A STEADFAST LIFE III of III
The Second 45 Years, From Her Point of View
It takes a while to tell my story—back to the rebuild next week!
If you’re catching up, grab a cuppa:
Welcome back; here’s a taste of the second half of my life; way too much to detail here! I’ve had three engines in ninety years, the original 150 HP gas, and then a cool Fairbanks-Morse diesel that came from the New York City Fire Department! I was re-powered again at 50, with a big, green, chugging Detroit Diesel 4-71. I have a feeling that loud, hot, rhythmic beast will run forever.
The gentle giant hippie that acquired me in 1980 had something to do with that new-to-me engine. As I indicated last week, a considerable amount of my structure had reached the end of its useful life. Fact is fact, no matter what, when SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE, wood eventually, naturally, deteriorates. Fortunately, this particular hippie was very smart, a true boat lover, and on the crazy side; it wasn’t long until he moved aboard! We spent a couple of years exploring the Caribbean, in particular St. John, fishing for conch and taking them to the nearest bar to see what he could trade for, if you know what I mean, (wink, wink). Happy, carefree times.
Reality hit in spring of 1982 and he determined Fajardo, Puerto Rico, to be the best place for my (very) extensive rebuild. I was in desperate need! The life expectancy of wooden yachts is only thirty or forty years, so I was pleased as punch that someone was in fact nuts enough to undertake such a project. He saved as much as was practical including the main structure, bronze hardware, and intricate, special teak pieces such as hatches and doors. They are stunning to this day.
Dmitri went big big BIG, deciding to raise the mast heights to make me a better sailer which led to extending and redesigning my keel, adding considerable weight and depth to my already sturdy frame. The main mast was extended from 48 feet to 64.5, mizzen mast to ratio. The standardized height of bridges (in North America) is sixty-five feet; (as a side note, my current caretakers are not willing to risk me with a cushion of only six inches, so we don’t venture near bridges that don’t open unless they are far above my rig).
I had a lovely ocean view but as you may imagine, the logistics and the finances were challenging; I was left for periods of time during acquisitions, and there was a hurricane or two thrown in for good measure. The proper materials were hard to locate and even harder to transport. I still carry some typed receipts for the larger items such as my massive windlass (used to retrieve the anchor). Delivery was prohibitive from places like Maine where the bronze parts were cast.
In addition to replacing over eighty planks, Dmitri stripped and modified my interior, making practical changes. The galley and the main saloon were combined, creating four bunks in the forepeak. There really, really, REALLY, was a lot to this rebuild. I was ‘on the hard’ for just over eight years before I looked like myself now. Finally his friends came along and said, in effect:
“For goodness sakes, we have to get this vessel back in the water or you’ll go mad!”
So in I went. All boats are continual projects anyway, especially the wooden ones. I was happy to be floating even with ongoing interior work that included such colors as lavender and baby blue. Oh, the personalities I’ve carried!
Over the next two+ decades, Dmitri was a constant and his daughter, too, spent years on my decks; I don’t pretend to have kept track of his loving nature. We sailed the Caribbean and East Coast of North America offering charters and “Bed & Biscuit” style lodging at the WoodenBoat Show in Mystic. After thirty years together, around 2010, he sadly decided to sell me to a young, enthusiastic couple looking for a Charter Boat to live on and give tours in Maine; after a change from my almost-famous yellow stripe to a startling tomato red, we headed north! I got my first feature article in WoodenBoat magazine, June 2015, entitled “A Working Boat in Yacht’s Clothing.”
The Maine summers were short and busy, the winters were brutal. Kate and Zander began a family and by 2020, with three children, decided that something had to give; it was me that went; they did not have time to take proper care any longer. That’s when I first met the Sailor/Surveyor and the wild-haired woman who have pretty much dedicated themselves to my cause and our life together.
Saving maritime history is no easy task.
Last summer I was feeling my age with the deterioration in my bow but that has been painstakingly replaced! Missed that? See these SPARRING ARCHIVES too.
Now you know THE REST OF THE STORY! Cannot even express how pleased I am that you stayed aboard; I found it hard to pick out what to tell you, it’s all been so interesting. Think how much you’ll learn if you SUBSCRIBE!
LIVE YOUR LIFE! It’s the only one you’ve got. ~STEADFAST
IF YOU ENJOY MY WORK please LIKE & share by RESTACKING (little round arrows) or send this along to someone with a random interest in history, wood or water. We’d be grateful. ~J
Yup!! No doubt about it, she of many names, now Steadfast, is a very lucky boat…..and her people have loved, loved, loved her…..in turn the seas have allowed her to bring them back safe and with more than when they departed…..
I love hearing from Steadfast's POV. What a lass she is! And what a potpourri of love she's had from so many sources over her long and lively life, some 'on hard,' some on the high seas. And how exciting that you know all this about her, Janice Anne. Kudos for investigating every nook and cranny of her courageous journey--straight into your heart!!