I used to be very gun ho about using breathing protection.

Then once I started to use epoxy and polyester resins I started to get a cough after every boat session, and it dawned on me that I needed to be a lot more careful.

I bought the best filter mask I could find, and special filter cartridges that would filter organic vapour.

These are expensive but worked great, at least on the first day.  On the second day they were not so good, and by the third day they were useless.

I hunted up information on them, and found that they used activated carbon as the filtering medium.

Once the packets are opened and the filters exposed to the air, the activated carbon starts abosrbing moisture and vapours from the air whether or not I am breathing through them.

The trick to getting the best life out of them is to put them in an airtight container when not in use.  This extended their life a bit, but still not as much as I would like.

The next step I am going to try is to put a dessicating agent (silica gel) in the container with the filters to keep the air as dry as possible.  Be interesting to see how this goes.

When that fat old sun in the sky is falling
Summer evenin’ birds are calling
Summer’s Sunday and a year
The sound of music in my ears
Distant bells
New mown grass smells so sweet
By the river holding hands
Roll me up and lay me down

I also use a jumbo sized extraction fan borrowed from the boat yard to keep the concentration of noxious fumes down to a minimum inside the boat.

And if you see
Don’t make a sound
Pick your feet up off the ground
And if you hear as the warm night falls
The silver sound from a time so strange
Sing to me
Sing to me

With all this breathing protection I can get on with building the galley.  Here the shelves are in place and cleaned up ready for the final touch up of paint before the sides and top go on.

When that fat old sun in the sky is falling
Summer evenin’ birds are calling
Children’s laughter in my ears
The last sunlight disappears
And if you see
Don’t make a sound
Pick your feet up off the ground
And if you hear as the warm night falls
The silver sound from a time so strange
Sing to me
Sing to me

Fat old sun, Pink Floyd 

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