What to look for when buying a Shipping Container, for building a home

What to look for when buying a Shipping Container, for building a home.

Let’s go over a few basics. The containers are called Connex Boxes. They are constructed of a metal known as Cortin, which is very strong and rust resistant. They come in several sizes. The standard width is eight feet. There are three height options; Half Cube at four feet, Full Cube or eight feet and High Cube or nine and a half feet. As far as the length they come in 20 feet, 40 feet, and 60 feet. There are variation and custom sizes, on all of these numbers to accommodate different products.

They come insulated and not insulated. The floors are made of hard wood. The doors are standard on one end, full height.

Due to their extreme strength they are a great candidate for creative structure design. The following is personal observation and assumptions on perspective uses for housing. I am in no way an engineer or qualified to discuss structural issues of heavy construction. But I have done a lot of building and been successful. I use my own common sense and am responsible for my own failures. In other words if this article leads you to try something dangerous or foolish you’re on your own… no guarantees.

These amazing boxes are inexpensive, strong, and versatile and can be stacked in an almost unlimited array of different forms.

When buying, I look for straight boxes that have not been patched excessively with floors that are not chewed up and doors that open fairly easily and gaskets that are not shot. The person selling will tell you that you will not find one like this, but the extra time you spend on finding a straight box will pay off later.

I’ve found that you can cut in windows and doors just about anywhere you desire. You will want to have a level pad ready with access for the large semi- truck and lowboy trailer. I’d say a straight shot at least 80 feet long and 16-20 feet wide. I landed mine within 10 feet of its final destination and then a friend with a large backhoe pushed it into place. I then used a six-ton bottle jack to raise the box and used large concrete shims to set the box level. Then I poured a concrete curb for the box to rest on. Next time I’ll do all the curb work first, with deep reinforced footings that have weld plates and a copper grounding cable.

I chose the High Cube because the extra height allows room for mechanical and an insulated drop ceiling. I don’t like the insulated boxes because they are often manufactured in countries with lax material standards and so I question the spray in foam as far as environmentally and our personal health. Also some of the insulated boxes are not made of cortin and lack the structural strength to alter and stack in any way desired.

That’s the basics if you have comments, corrections to my information or any thoughts please forward.

Warmly

Mad Coyote Joe

Shipping Container Building Update

Connex Box update

As some of you know I’m interested in low cost housing. My reasoning is simple. In a world where the average American worker makes $20,000 to $35,000 a year and the average house sells for around $200,000 the average family will soon be renting instead of owning. We need an alternative that an unskilled laborer can handle; so I’m looking at Rammed Earth, Straw bale, Adobe bricks, Cast in Place Adobe, a product called Super Adobe and Connex box; also called Shipping container, buildings. I’m building a cooking school out of straw bales and a studio out of Connex boxes.

Let’s talk about the Connex box structure. I chose a decommissioned box (no longer being used for international shipping) that was 40 feet long and 8 feet wide and what is called “High Cube” 9.5 feet tall (standard boxes are 8 feet tall.) These boxes come with wooden floors and can handle a properly engineered roof load of around a half million pounds, which allows them to be stacked in interesting ways.

Foundation poured of concrete with rebar to hold fencing a center of wall

The box cast me $2700, delivered, which is cheaper and stronger than the pre-fabed sheds and garages offered currently. I use a cutoff wheel to cut in my windows and doors and if need be it can be moved.

I’m wrapping three sides in 2-inch foam for insulation and on the south side I’m attaching a 1-foot thick cast in place adobe wall.

Fencing in place, notice the scrap wood I use to hold the form at proper width

In the wall I’m adding a diaphragm of used chain link fencing in the center of the wall and attaching more 2-inch foam on the outside of this wall, for insulated thermal mass.

Rebar holding the foam, all of this had to be replaced, the wire is working fine

I had been tieing the fence to the box and the foam to the fencing, creating tension to hold the foam in place and giving me the ability to tie wire mesh at a later point for a stucco finish.

I was doing the tieing with cheap nylon twine, which is strong and wont rust like tie wire.

I drilled hundreds of hole to hold the twine. The new strapping is a much better choice

The other day I was getting some adobe poured in the forms and the chain link fencing came loose from the box. What I hadn’t planned for was the fact that the twine is not UV resistant and all of my twine had basically decomposed.

Plan B, I’m now using Plumber’s tape which is a cheap form of strapping.

This shot shows how strong the twine is and it will work well if you are not waiting to stucco

I can use a screw gun to pull the screws and then re-screw the plumber’s tape in place to hold the fencing at center wall and then I’m using galvanized wire to hold the foam in place and I can use it to attach the stucco wire later. I plan on making a living roof to finish the studio off. Please comment or ask any questions that you may have. This project is a learning lab and I will post my findings.

Coments are King!

Comments are king if you are enjoying these posts you cane help us. My partner in this TV venture Raul Odonnel said to me the other day “Comments are king!” Raul is right if you feel anything, right, wrong or indifferent, please let us know. It guides us and tells us we are giving you something that you are reading and hopefully enjoying. Either way, let us know and we will respond!

"Alice" a Chapter in my up coming Novel Willie

This is a chapter in my up coming Novel Willie. Please send any comments that you may have or share it with friends that might like reading this.

Alice

1642 words

by Daigneault

“Joe, it’s Bill, I’m in the city jail on Trent Avenue. They want $85 for bail, could you go to my place, I’ve got a few bucks stashed behind my TV inside an old chessboard. Just bring the box with you and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Joe finds the key under the mat just where Billy had said it would be. He opens the door, walks over to the big, wooden television cabinet and feels around behind it. The wooden box with the chessboard printed on the lid was there, just like he had said. Joe walks back to the door, opens it and starts to step out.

He hears the distinctive metallic click of a shotgun slide, jacking a shell into its chamber. He instinctively, slows to a snails pace, raising his hands.

“That’s right… nice and easy. Step out slowly and keep those hands up,” says a big, rugged looking, detective, that is holding the pump riot gun, dead center on Joe. There are five other men, two more in suits and the other three wearing police uniforms. All have their guns drawn. Joe has a bad reputation.

While the first detective keeps the shotgun on Joe the two other detectives carefully approach. One takes the chess set away from Joe, while the other slaps the handcuffs on and grabs Joe firmly by the back of his shirt and pushes him toward a waiting squad car. One of the detectives opens the chess set and pulls out a plastic bag of small, black capsules. He utters, “Black beauties… must be 300 here. Pal you’re in for some time.”

Immediately Joe knows two things; first if they do a record check on him he’s gone for at least five years without this bullshit charge, and second, Billy sold him out. Billy’s reward from Joe could wait he had bigger problems.

Back at the station, Joe calls Alice and fills her in. Without being told she knows what to do and as soon as she hangs up with Joe she calls the lawyer.

“Look honey, I won’t bullshit you. He’s fucked. He’s looking at a minimum of seven years,” says Joe’s lawyer.

The year is 1964. Alice, twenty–eight years old, thin and unassuming, wipes down the long white counter, straightening the stainless steel napkin holders, plastic bowls filled with packets of sugar and the pancake syrup as she works her way down to top off his coffee. She is wearing a pink dress and an apron with black trim.

The lawyer keeps wiping off the beads of sweat, that are forming on his huge, bulldog like face. Red-eyed, peering at Alice over the top of his black-rimmed glasses and looking like he crawled out of a laundry hamper, his gray suit and dark blue tie need pressing. He’s been representing Joe for the past 15 years. Although she has never meet him before, she has heard plenty, about all the times he’s gotten Joe out of serious beefs in the past. She also knows if he drove all the way from Dallas last night to make the arraignment, this must be bad.

“What about bail” she asks?

“Bail… yeah the judge offered bail. Five thousand and he can get out until the trial. You wouldn’t have five grand lying around would you?” he asks.

“We don’t have that kind of cash, we don’t have $500”, says Alice.

The cook taps the bell on the counter, “Order up, Alice,” he says, as he slides two, dinghy plates of ham, eggs and hash browns into the service window. Alice turns around and stacks the plates on one arm along with two smaller plates of buttered toast. Grabbing a coffee pot with her free hand, she takes care of her customers and comes back to the lawyer.

“How long does he have?” she asks.

“I’d say three or four days… after that his paper will start to catch up with him and they’ll rescind the bail offer. How are you holding up,” he asks?

“Well… I’m married to a man that lives in a world that I’m not supposed to know about. I thought he was working again… when he left yesterday morning… something in the way he was moving when he walked out the door… I could see he had something on his mind. Like he was being overly careful… apparently not careful enough! He has friends with that kind of money but I don’t know them. I’ve never been to jail or in any real trouble. I’ll be fine… if we can just get him out we could disappear.” The words tumble off her lips as a distant thought. Suddenly she snaps back into the coffee shop and has a look of clarity as she tells the lawyer, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine… we’ll be fine.”

Two hours later, across town Alice is wearing a scarf over her hair, a tan, full length, rain slicker and a pair of large, round, black sunglasses. Parking on the side of the building, she knows there is no turning back. She leaves the car running. Stepping from the car, with her heart almost jumping out of her chest, she tries to catch her breath, finding it hard to concentrate over the deafening rush of blood in her ears that sounds like a thundering locomotive. Walking into the bank, through the heavy glass doors, time is bending…moving sideways. Crossing the room, she feels like she’s wading, uphill, through a wall of honey. She watches what looks like someone else’s hand give, the teller the note. He reads it and reaches for the drawer… for the money. Yes… he’s putting the bills in a bank bag. Then she watches him slip his other hand under the counter. Lucidity gone, she barely registers the ringing of the alarm and wave of commotion. People start ducking and running in a slow-motion panic. And then like a sudden slap on a cold face in the dead of winter, the bank comes into sharp focus. The alarm is screaming. Every eye is on her. She is staring down the length of her arm, across the span, of the shiny black barrel, of an enormous revolver, that she is now pointing directly into the anxious eyes, of the bank teller, who is holding out the bag of cash. She grabs the bag and runs to the big glass door. Reaching for the brass push plate, she sees a massive fist, flash into the corner of her eye. The room suddenly flips sideways with a sickening crunch that throws her off her feet. Flying into the immense, plate glass door, face first, another smashing sound is followed by the warm rush of blood in her eyes and mouth.

She hears, “Don’t fucking move!” along with the distinct ‘click’ of a cocking pistol that is being pressed firmly against the back of her head. The blood dripping from her mouth, tastes like wet copper. Pain is shooting through the side of her smashed face and jaw. Oddly the marble floor feels cool… almost comforting to her cheek. Someone takes the pistol from her hand and then the bag of money. She is slowly rolled over by a bulky, middle-aged man, wearing a guard’s uniform. She hadn’t noticed him while entering the bank.

“A woman… it’s a goddamn woman! Just what were you thinking?” he mutters, while shaking his head.

Her trial was a mere formality. The judge gave her three years like he was sending her to summer camp. Doing three years in a State of Georgia work camp for women is like 50 years in the modern joints around the country. Alice was familiar with hard work. She had been working since she was 14, but this was something different. Her cellmates were mostly poor, angry blacks, bull dykes, and mentally ill housewives that had been thrown away by their husbands or hookers and junkies, any of whom will cut your throat, rape you or give you a beating in the showers as soon as talk with you. And then there are the guards; prison guards are the very bottom of the barrel. And women’s prison guards in Georgia are the worst of the worst. For the most part they are a bunch of uneducated, rednecks that love the idea of having control over a large group of trashy women that are in need of favors. Favors like; a shower once a week or seeing the doctor when they have a wound or a fever, or access to their lawyer.

In a women’s joint there are only a few forms of currency, drugs, cigarettes, weapons or violence and when all else fails for these women…the thing they’ve been trading all their lives, pussy.

Alice is a hard woman, but she has to fight almost everyday just to stay alive. The feds waited three months before coming to have a chat with her. She shows to the interview with a swollen lip and fresh, dark, bruise over her left eye and cheek.

“Look honey, all we want is the names of your husbands friends around the country. You give us five names that check out and we’ll arrange for there to be an error in your trial transcripts. You’ll go home and no one will ever know, not even Joe. We know that he’s connected. If you don’t go along we’ll make sure that you do every fucking day of your time in this shit-hole, no parole, no probation,” says the squeaky clean, fed wearing a gray suit and Ray-ban sunglasses.

Alice looks the fed that is doing the talking straight in the eye and says, “You must be mistaken… I have no idea what you’re talking about. So if we’re done I’d like to go back to my cell now.”

###

Shipping Container Houses

Shipping Container houses

One of the areas of study that I have concerned my self with over the years is low cost housing. I’ve built with adobe and straw bale, and my friend Ed has used giant foam blocks and recycled lumber; always looking for a method that provides structure, insulation and an esthetic that one can enjoy.

Along the way I became aware of shipping containers also known as Connex boxes. They are strong, structural and best of all cheap.

Architects are using them in different arrangements to build houses and offices.

My interest was in building a second home for Kathy and myself or a home for one or both of our children. Drywall can be screwed to the interior walls and foam glued to the exterior providing a strong, well insulated structure. I wanted to add mass so I decided on using a system that I have been working on in my landscape for the past few years. I have been building walls out of cast in place adobe.

I use just plain old dirt out of my yard. I mix water into the dirt, in a wheelbarrow and pour it into a form. This is placed on a concrete foundation that comes above the ground by about five inches to create a break between the earth for reasons of termites and water. Once the mud sets up I remove the forms and move them up, for the next pour. The earth, dried in this Arizona sun, is rock hard. After the walls are finished I drive ring-shank nails into the adobe to hold stucco netting and then cover it with a coat of fiber-strengthened stucco. The end result is massive, bullet proof (literally) and very inexpensive.

In applying this to shipping container construction I am adding a two-inch layer of foam used both as a form and as future insulation.

As with my walls I’m placing a vertical layer of recycled chain link fencing to add both reinforcement and a structural diaphragm.

I’m tying this to the box along with running a nylon twine to the exterior of the foam for stucco wire connection. I chose the twine over tie wire as wire can both stretch and rust, twine will do neither. The end product will be a layer of insulation, which I run down below grade about eight inches to create a thermal break from the brutal Arizona sun.

Then I have one foot of adobe for mass and then the box it’s self. I plan on doing a living roof. Please ask any questions or leave any comments that you might have.