We nearly became "one of those" boat owners, finally committing to finding a new owner for our classic Concordia rather than white-knuckling the dream that we would one day restore her. Even if we had the stamina, which we might have had once upon a time, we did not have the resources. My one regret is that we have no idea what happened to her after that. Based on the lack of any current information, it seems the new owner fell prey to the same affliction. At least he purportedly had a dry barn in which to store her. :sigh:
I am living on my sailboat in a boatyard in Port Townsend, Washington. We are surrounded by boats in various stages of renovation, and, yes, a few on death row. Great post!
Ah the famed wooden boat Mecca! I'm sure there are so many characters there, floating and walking alike...enjoy it all, there is something about a boatyard--history and the present collide. Great to hear from you, Jennifer. ~J
Every morning that I wander I spy something new to ponder, an unintentional poet and boatbuilder. One evening under darkening skies I am drawn to climb inside these two, to see what I can see. Regardless, it makes me melancholy. There is no one to save them.
A private message from a friend said, you know, J, sometimes the dreamers just get too old to continue even though they want to...she and hubby, both 80, left BC in 1988 on a ferro (?) cement 50 footer and never went back. Circumnavigation, imagination and flexibility. They were here when we hauled last year. Incredible people.
Hope this finds you well and enjoying some water time! J
Hopefully you are familiar with the story of Tom Robinson, a young Australian who designed and built his own ocean rowing boat, with the intention of crossing the Pacific from Peru back to Australia. His last landfall was Vanuatu. On the last leg of his journey he caught a rogue wave and was irrecoverably capsized.
An interesting sidebar to his story is that on the odd chance his small craft ended up on the rocks somewhere (which she eventually did), he did not encapsulate her in fiberglass. He wanted her to degrade leaving behind as small a footprint as possible.
"To Dream The Impossible Dream" - isn't that the best way to live a life? I think so. Your dream and vision are different from mine, but there is an honesty to it, which I admire. It's fantastic to learn new skills. I wish I had the propensity with tools. Alas, no. I leave that to my partner Emily, my daughter Kristen, and to you! I guess I'm just stuck in my head all the time imagining characters that have a story to tell. Wait - you do that, too - though with real people (though I have occasionally used real people to tell my stories, too.)! Amazing, Janice !!!
Awww. Thank you Lindsay! I came to this part of my life actually NOT a huge fan of tools but they have grown on me....the accidental boatbuilder. I just got a message that said "IF YOUR DREAMS DON'T SCARE YOU, THEY'RE TOO SMALL"....
I love wandering the nether regions of traditional boatyards to find the free or cheap projects. I have rebuilt or restored a few boats along the way, and it amazes me that more people don't do it.
Imagine this; you find an old wooden 40' sailing yacht that is past it's best, but was once loved and treasured, and in good sailing order might be worth $60k, maybe twice that. You can have it for peanuts, and all you have to do is restore it and make it sound and sailing again.
So you buy Howard Chapelle's book (bible) 'Boatbuilding', about $60, and a decent set of tools, maybe $300 to start, and you buy the boat for a nominal sum - word of advice, always pay something, and sign a proper contract with the official owner.
So the first month with be chucking rubbish and cleaning, no skill required. Keep everything if you don't know what it is - you'll be surprised how much some of it costs!
Then go through the work you need to do, make a plan on one side of A4 (no more, or you'll spend a month writing plans!), and start work. Generally it will look something like this: First make the deck watertight, then fix the hull structure, then the hull covering, and then work through the systems like engine, electrics and plumbing.
If I make it seem easy, it's not. It is hard, sometimes almost impossible work and it will test you every day, especially your commitment and your abilities to learn. You will make mistakes, many, many mistakes, and each one will teach you something. You will learn more than you have ever learned before, mostly stuff that few people ever learn today, and even fewer can teach you.
BUT, and it is a big but, the process and the end result will not just change your life, it will change you too! It will change your confidence, your attitudes, your skills and your approach to every other aspect of your life. The biggest surprise is that it is the journey, not the destination that is most important - you started out building a boat to have a boat. You come to realise that the process is actually worth far more than any boat.
And for a couple of year's work, and for a small fraction of the monetary cost of going out and buying one, you could end up with a new home, either tied up in your local port, or anchored in the Mediterranean or Caribbean - your choice.
And even if you take a decade doing it as you juggle work and family, or even if you never finish it, it will still change your life. You'll understand yourself better, learn skills, and maybe even try again in a few years time, with more understanding and better skills.
Because old boats are one of life's better addictions!
ALAA-- This is heartfelt, isn't it? You've been there, and been there, I would say. My husband has been boat-obsessed for fifty years so we always must explore and explore and ponder and imagine. The tool shed here holds a lifetime of collecting both the ordinary and the specialty stuff to make these come back alive.
I wrote you a response about this but I'll be darned if I'm not sure where it went! The first vessel I ever met, truly met, was a disregarded Tartan 37, parked in at a boatyard here on the Bay. My intro to boats involved fiberglass and re-coring her decks and cockpit. It was an eye-opener, and then, when I got to the Bahamas, all worthwhile. Life-changing is a tremendous understatement. This vessel, of course, changed it all once again, and again, and again, and has taken over our life, sailed it down a far different path than I ever imagined. This girl will never be finished... I am so honored you took the time here, to express all this, I got lost in your commentary, so close to home. Thank you. ~J
WOW!! Straight from tree to vessel, that is art, and dedication for certain. Very impressive. AND you moved on to something less biodegradable. What a beautiful, alternative life. Where do you keep her?! What's her name, if I may inquire? I'll have to jump back on your profile, I did not realize you were a liveaboard. Here in the US they are making things more and more complicated for us with regulations. And it is a problem to get insurance, too, even liability. But I wouldn't trade it.
Interesting read. It made me think of when I was a kid. We lived near a cemetery and we would walk around it and figure out how old they were and what happened to them. Boatyard grave yards give me the same feeling and many questions in my mind. Until next week my friend. Thank you!
Honestly that is an amazing comparison, Debby. My dad and I used to walk through a cemetery near our home that went back through the 1700s. I was also fascinated thinking about what happened....why....and saddened, in some cases. The end of anything is an impactful mystery, if it's something important. You know that very well. I am so grateful that you follow us here. ~J
There was a boat that looked very similar to the picture of Maestra that was in the slip next to my boat when it was at a marina on the Eastern Shore.
One weekend, she was floating. The next week, only the top of her saloon roof was showing. The following week, there was an excavator with a claw attachment and several construction site dumpsters filled with broken wood.
It makes my test tighten up! That gorgeous schooner will have the same fate. It seems so wasteful on so many levels but I get it, too. On Tilghman Island there was a super-cool, barnacle encrusted Skipjack and then one day the same thing happened. It fit into a single dumpster. All that history. But I guess we'll fit into something much smaller than that when we're done.... thanks Switter. ~J
We nearly became "one of those" boat owners, finally committing to finding a new owner for our classic Concordia rather than white-knuckling the dream that we would one day restore her. Even if we had the stamina, which we might have had once upon a time, we did not have the resources. My one regret is that we have no idea what happened to her after that. Based on the lack of any current information, it seems the new owner fell prey to the same affliction. At least he purportedly had a dry barn in which to store her. :sigh:
Steadfast is a lucky vessel!
I am living on my sailboat in a boatyard in Port Townsend, Washington. We are surrounded by boats in various stages of renovation, and, yes, a few on death row. Great post!
Ah the famed wooden boat Mecca! I'm sure there are so many characters there, floating and walking alike...enjoy it all, there is something about a boatyard--history and the present collide. Great to hear from you, Jennifer. ~J
So many layers to this onion …
Every morning that I wander I spy something new to ponder, an unintentional poet and boatbuilder. One evening under darkening skies I am drawn to climb inside these two, to see what I can see. Regardless, it makes me melancholy. There is no one to save them.
A private message from a friend said, you know, J, sometimes the dreamers just get too old to continue even though they want to...she and hubby, both 80, left BC in 1988 on a ferro (?) cement 50 footer and never went back. Circumnavigation, imagination and flexibility. They were here when we hauled last year. Incredible people.
Hope this finds you well and enjoying some water time! J
Hopefully you are familiar with the story of Tom Robinson, a young Australian who designed and built his own ocean rowing boat, with the intention of crossing the Pacific from Peru back to Australia. His last landfall was Vanuatu. On the last leg of his journey he caught a rogue wave and was irrecoverably capsized.
An interesting sidebar to his story is that on the odd chance his small craft ended up on the rocks somewhere (which she eventually did), he did not encapsulate her in fiberglass. He wanted her to degrade leaving behind as small a footprint as possible.
https://www.tomrobinsonboats.com/a-record-breaking-voyage
"To Dream The Impossible Dream" - isn't that the best way to live a life? I think so. Your dream and vision are different from mine, but there is an honesty to it, which I admire. It's fantastic to learn new skills. I wish I had the propensity with tools. Alas, no. I leave that to my partner Emily, my daughter Kristen, and to you! I guess I'm just stuck in my head all the time imagining characters that have a story to tell. Wait - you do that, too - though with real people (though I have occasionally used real people to tell my stories, too.)! Amazing, Janice !!!
Awww. Thank you Lindsay! I came to this part of my life actually NOT a huge fan of tools but they have grown on me....the accidental boatbuilder. I just got a message that said "IF YOUR DREAMS DON'T SCARE YOU, THEY'RE TOO SMALL"....
I love wandering the nether regions of traditional boatyards to find the free or cheap projects. I have rebuilt or restored a few boats along the way, and it amazes me that more people don't do it.
Imagine this; you find an old wooden 40' sailing yacht that is past it's best, but was once loved and treasured, and in good sailing order might be worth $60k, maybe twice that. You can have it for peanuts, and all you have to do is restore it and make it sound and sailing again.
So you buy Howard Chapelle's book (bible) 'Boatbuilding', about $60, and a decent set of tools, maybe $300 to start, and you buy the boat for a nominal sum - word of advice, always pay something, and sign a proper contract with the official owner.
So the first month with be chucking rubbish and cleaning, no skill required. Keep everything if you don't know what it is - you'll be surprised how much some of it costs!
Then go through the work you need to do, make a plan on one side of A4 (no more, or you'll spend a month writing plans!), and start work. Generally it will look something like this: First make the deck watertight, then fix the hull structure, then the hull covering, and then work through the systems like engine, electrics and plumbing.
If I make it seem easy, it's not. It is hard, sometimes almost impossible work and it will test you every day, especially your commitment and your abilities to learn. You will make mistakes, many, many mistakes, and each one will teach you something. You will learn more than you have ever learned before, mostly stuff that few people ever learn today, and even fewer can teach you.
BUT, and it is a big but, the process and the end result will not just change your life, it will change you too! It will change your confidence, your attitudes, your skills and your approach to every other aspect of your life. The biggest surprise is that it is the journey, not the destination that is most important - you started out building a boat to have a boat. You come to realise that the process is actually worth far more than any boat.
And for a couple of year's work, and for a small fraction of the monetary cost of going out and buying one, you could end up with a new home, either tied up in your local port, or anchored in the Mediterranean or Caribbean - your choice.
And even if you take a decade doing it as you juggle work and family, or even if you never finish it, it will still change your life. You'll understand yourself better, learn skills, and maybe even try again in a few years time, with more understanding and better skills.
Because old boats are one of life's better addictions!
ALAA-- This is heartfelt, isn't it? You've been there, and been there, I would say. My husband has been boat-obsessed for fifty years so we always must explore and explore and ponder and imagine. The tool shed here holds a lifetime of collecting both the ordinary and the specialty stuff to make these come back alive.
I wrote you a response about this but I'll be darned if I'm not sure where it went! The first vessel I ever met, truly met, was a disregarded Tartan 37, parked in at a boatyard here on the Bay. My intro to boats involved fiberglass and re-coring her decks and cockpit. It was an eye-opener, and then, when I got to the Bahamas, all worthwhile. Life-changing is a tremendous understatement. This vessel, of course, changed it all once again, and again, and again, and has taken over our life, sailed it down a far different path than I ever imagined. This girl will never be finished... I am so honored you took the time here, to express all this, I got lost in your commentary, so close to home. Thank you. ~J
WOW!! Straight from tree to vessel, that is art, and dedication for certain. Very impressive. AND you moved on to something less biodegradable. What a beautiful, alternative life. Where do you keep her?! What's her name, if I may inquire? I'll have to jump back on your profile, I did not realize you were a liveaboard. Here in the US they are making things more and more complicated for us with regulations. And it is a problem to get insurance, too, even liability. But I wouldn't trade it.
Interesting read. It made me think of when I was a kid. We lived near a cemetery and we would walk around it and figure out how old they were and what happened to them. Boatyard grave yards give me the same feeling and many questions in my mind. Until next week my friend. Thank you!
Honestly that is an amazing comparison, Debby. My dad and I used to walk through a cemetery near our home that went back through the 1700s. I was also fascinated thinking about what happened....why....and saddened, in some cases. The end of anything is an impactful mystery, if it's something important. You know that very well. I am so grateful that you follow us here. ~J
There was a boat that looked very similar to the picture of Maestra that was in the slip next to my boat when it was at a marina on the Eastern Shore.
One weekend, she was floating. The next week, only the top of her saloon roof was showing. The following week, there was an excavator with a claw attachment and several construction site dumpsters filled with broken wood.
So sad.
It makes my test tighten up! That gorgeous schooner will have the same fate. It seems so wasteful on so many levels but I get it, too. On Tilghman Island there was a super-cool, barnacle encrusted Skipjack and then one day the same thing happened. It fit into a single dumpster. All that history. But I guess we'll fit into something much smaller than that when we're done.... thanks Switter. ~J
First sentence, in order to make any sense....was chest NOT test. Yeesh.