Just a thought
I was sitting on Alki beach in West Seattle talking to my good friend Tlaloc. We were still fairly young at the time but had been out in the world a while. I had been working a string of labor jobs, seemingly getting nowhere and was a bit disenchanted with the world. As a child I had been promised this grand American Dream but what I found was a far cry from idyllic. While we were talking I stumbled upon a little Idea that would grow into a passion which would wind up shaping the rest of my life. Sitting there listening to the water gently lap up on the beach, the cool onshore breeze was just a bit to cold for comfort. I was remembering fondly the lazy summer afternoons spent on the little power boat a buddy of ours had. I thought about that for a while and said "Wouldn't it be nice to leave this disappointing life behind and just go sailing. I mean just get rid of everything, get on a boat and go wherever you want and do whatever you want?". We reasoned that it would need to be a sail boat as I would undoubtedly be unable to afford any fuel.
It was nothing really, just one of many such conversations we had. I imagine these are the sorts of conversations that all people have, young or old. They are trivial and almost meaningless. I say almost because they tend to inform our way of thinking in subtle ways. Only for me, this time it would not be so subtle. This idea ate away at me and ate away at me until one day I said "Fuck it, I should stop dreaming about this and just go and do it already".
The Swift Lady
I set about making my dream a reality. I quickly discovered that I did not know nearly enough about boats to be purchasing one. I began reading books on the subject and talking to everyone I could find who knew anything about them. I had a job at the time that had me spending countless hours flying. I spent those hours studying everything boat. I studied things from hull designs to rig designs to construction methods. I studied electronics and wiring, mechanical systems, engines, sail construction and repair, the list goes on and on.After a few years I felt I had enough basic knowledge to make some informed choices. I then turned my attention to the next little hurdle, money. In short I didn't have any. I saved every spare cent and scrimped on everything I could think of. I managed to put a few thousand dollars in the bank, which was not nearly enough. In addition to this little savings I had been putting some 2% of my income into a retirement plan for around 10 years. I found out that I could take a personal loan out against that retirement. This was a neat little trick because the interest on the loan went back into the retirement account, in essence I could take a loan out against myself and pay myself interest. How cool is that? I pooled all of my money and came up with twelve thousand dollars. It would simply have to be enough.
It might go without saying, but I had been looking at brokerage listings and marinas somewhat casually during that time. It now got serious. I created a basic list of criteria that would make up the perfect boat. It went something like this:
- Aluminum hull and decks
- Ketch rigged
- Engine with at least 1 horsepower per foot of waterline length
- Propane stove and oven
- Full keel with cutaway forefoot
- Soft chine hull
- Well appointed
- Sea-kindly
- etc....
Then one day I found it. I was on my way out of the house and was going to be flying down to Charleston, South Carolina. I had a few minutes to spare so I sat down to peruse the online brokerage sites. I found a new listing for a boat in Beaufort, South Carolina, a short one hour drive from Charleston. What chance, I thought, it must be serendipity. Later that afternoon I looked the boat over and offered full price on the spot.
I purchased this 1963, 45 foot sail boat for $10,000 dollars. It was built in aluminum by the Pasch Marine yard in Erie, Pennsylvania. It was designed by the renowned naval architect Carl Alberg. As the boat was in South Carolina and I was living in New Jersey it necessitated a bit of a journey.
I spent a week that fall with Tlaloc working on the boat and in essence figuring out all of the things that were broken and in need of repair. In February a friend and I traveled down to South Carolina with the intention of sailing the boat up after making a few of these repairs. We wound up spending two weeks working on the boat before we could even get off the dock and put the sails up for a day sail. A few days later, at the absolute last minute, we set off, tired and exhausted. We got about an hour out of port before the boat developed an uncanny banging sound every time the rudder was turned to port. After a while looking around for the problem, we decided to return to the dock and postpone the trip.
A few months later we tried again. We spent another two weeks working on the boat. Brought along two additional people for crew and set sail. We dropped off two crew in Cape Hatteras as they were unable to get over their sea-sickness. However, after 14 days at sea, we raised Barnegat light and sailed into New Jersey.
Once in New Jersey I proceeded to refit the old boat. I tore everything out, right down to the aluminum hull. I installed insulation, wiring, furniture and all manner of things. I was nearly broke at the time and was funding the refit on my meager income. Things progressed at a painfully slow rate. Then one morning I woke up (I was living on board at the time) and heard the sound of running water. This was quite strange as there was no running water on board, no working pump, not even a garden hose from the dock. After a few minutes of investigation I discovered the source of the sound. It seems the aluminum hull had corroded straight through and a hole about the size of a dime had opened up in the bottom of the boat. I was sinking! After a few moments of panic I crammed a bunch of epoxy in the hole and proceeded to calm down.
As it turned out, the hull was badly corroded in many places. The repairs were way outside of any reasonable hope of my little budget and in turn I had to sell the boat. I had been living on it for nearly six years at that point.
Return to the land
I moved to Brooklyn, New York then and began to scour the brokerage listings and marinas once more for a vessel that would meet my criteria. My criteria had evolved somewhat after my experience with the Swift Lady. I will not list it all out here, but suffice to say the list was substantially longer and the willingness to compromise greatly reduced. This basically made any hope of finding a boat that met my criteria and budget rather hopeless. After a while I concluded that the only way I was going to be able to afford my perfect boat was to build it myself. So I did the only logical thing and set to making a plan.I moved to the Pacific Northwest as prices there are low enough that I could afford to get a piece of property big enough to build a shop. I of course would need a place in which to construct the boat. It took a few years of saving and a change of careers (to make a bit more money) but I finally got a little piece of land that was big enough to build a shop.
I was certainly not sitting idly by in those intervening years. I had been planning and researching. I read every book and magazine article on metal boat building. Scoured the online forums. Followed the blogs of everyone I could find who was building or had built their own metal boat. I created spreadsheets comparing every conceivable aspect of various designs. I ordered study plans (boat building drawings) for several designs so I could compare them in greater detail. I created spreadsheets detailing the cost of materials, equipment and tools for both the boat and the shop. I was planning out how much money I would have and estimating how long it would likely take given the number of hours I could work each week.
Then I read in this book or article (which for the life of me I can't find now) and came across this little nugget of information. It went something like this "Some people enjoy building boats, some people enjoy sailing boats, but it is the rare person who enjoys both". Now that got me to thinking. Not only was I looking at around ten years to build a boat but I was quite sure that I would not actually enjoy the process. After all the entire point of this venture was to go sailing. That was when I realized that in working on this plan I had actually set myself up to be able to afford one of the used boats that met my criteria. Remember that little career change?
Back to the beginning
Armed with a slightly larger budget, I once again began scouring the brokerage listings and marinas for a boat that would satisfy my needs. I found quite a few that appeared quite promising at first. However I was once again reminded of the ridiculous price of boats and the incredible maintenance requirements, which if not kept up with, soon turn into large projects. Eventually I found a boat that looked really promising. It was a ketch rigged boat built in steel by the guy who literally wrote the book on steel boat building[1]. So armed with my camera and a plane ticket I dashed all the way across the country to have the boat surveyed with every intention of purchasing it.
It was a lovely boat, incredibly sturdy, well appointed with quite a lot of equipment on-board and it had already circumnavigated once. A good sign indeed. Then disaster struck. The boat had been sold to an unfortunate fellow who died of a heart attack within three months of acquiring it. The boat then sat (in probate) for the next eight years. During that time the earth under the stands had settled somewhat and the boat was resting slightly bow down. This allowed the small amount of water that ran down the mast to accumulate in an inaccessible part of the bilge. Over the years this little puddle caused some rather serious corrosion. In fact when the surveyor taped the corroded area with his little hammer it broke all the way through. While this was not the only thing wrong with the boat it was the most definitely the last straw.
Now this might be obvious to you by this point in the story, but after my experience with the Swift Lady, I am quite skittish of hull corrosion issues. At least I got a little trip to Maine out of the deal.
Back to the brokerage listings. I immediately found this awesome boat in Hawaii that was built in aluminum. Now it wasn't quite right but I was getting quite desperate. I began perusing it.
This boat was about half way through a refit and had some rather questionable repairs. Add to that the (as I discovered) rather expensive moorage fees and it was looking worse by the minute. I decided to plow ahead despite the obvious problems. I was in the midst of purchasing some plane tickets to fly out and inspect this vessel when a thought struck me. "I am forcing it". It was true, I wanted so badly for my dream to make progress that I was willing to compromise far too much to make it happen. I reasoned that I would simply need to take a breath and be a bit more patient. I decided to refocus my energy into other aspects of my life and put the dream on hold once more.
The Simba
Then a few days later (I was utterly bored at work) I was casually perusing the online brokerage sites and came across the Simba.
I thought "I just put this whole thing on hold, surely I cant find the right boat so quickly". I decided to wait a few days while I mulled things over. It happened like it always does. I just keep thinking about it and returning to the listing. Finally I decided to go for it.
I will spare you the arduous details of the trip (the boat is in Rhode Island), the survey and the massive headache that negotiating and closing on a boat entails. Suffice it to say, I bought it.
Whats Next
Well, that about wraps it up. I am the proud owner of a boat that is located on the other side of the continent from me. It needs a bit of work to get it ready for the journey and I have quite a lot of work to do before I can travel cross-country to begin fixing it up. There is a lot of uncertainty in my future, but the one thing I know for sure is that it will be quite the adventure. And a new adventure is just the sort of thing I am ready for.1 Steel Away, Shelia Moir and Lecain W. Smith, June 1986 ISBN-10: 0961550805
The adventure continues!
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