The decision to build a boat grew out of my wife’s and my love for sailing, which began only five years ago, in 2003. We had purchased and taught ourselves to sail a Catalina 30, which wooden boat purists will call a “plastic” boat, because of the hull material being fiberglass.
I was bitten hard by the sailing bug, and spent nearly every weekend at Lake Mead sailing or working on our boat. Unlike other sailors, I didn’t get very interested in racing. What appealed to me were the pulleys, lines, ropes, and simple ways things are done on our old boat. I liked the seamanship, knot-tying skills, and different sailboat design evolutions. This led to my learning more about the history of sailing and old fashioned boats, which meant reading about wooden boats.
I also stumbled upon websites, like Glen-L, that sold boat kits and plans. The thought of building a boat myself did not appeal to me, seeming like a monumental task. Besides, where would I do such a thing? We live in a neighborhood with an Association that seems to frown upon anything out of ordinary, cookie-cutter suburbia. And I had never really done any woodworking, although my father is a master craftsman of wood.
A couple of years ago, my next door neighbor was getting ready to move and brought over a stack of back-issues of WoodenBoat magazine because he knew I liked boats. I ignored them for months because the issue on top of the stack had a wooden powerboat on the cover, and I only liked sailboats. And besides, I wasn’t too interested in wooden anything. One day, out of boredom, I thumbed through an issue. “Hey,” I told my wife, “these magazines have a lot of sailboats in them.”
To most people, wooden boats are strange and esoteric. We are told they are too much work. We are told they don’t make them anymore. We know nothing about them. The truth is, there has been a huge resurgence of people refurbishing wooden boats and building new ones from scratch, often using ancient techniques. One look at WoodenBoat magazine discourages, because the techniques look difficult to learn and understand. A closer look encourages, because one notices that these are normal people, and normal people are able to build boats, given enough determination and time.
About the time I was enjoying my neighbor’s old magazines, I came across a book called Wooden Boats: In Pursuit of the Perfect Craft at an American Boatyard by Michael Ruhlman. The book is the wonderful story of a modern boatyard in Martha’s Vineyard whose owners and hired hands build wooden boats the traditional way. I was so inspired, I wanted to quit my job and go work at that boatyard to learn about building wooden sailboats. The more practical idea of building my own boat in my garage began to resurface. I spoke with my wife. In an effort to keep the garage as clean as possible, I came up with the idea of building everything but the hull first, which I figured would take me a year. (From what I could determine, most plans and kits call for building the hull first.) I imagined this would save me from storing an unfinished hull for a year, and besides, if I decided not to follow through and complete the project, I would only have little pieces like seats and tiller to throw away.
My search for the boat to build began. At first, I was going to build a Nutshell Pram by Joel White. I liked everything I read about that little boat, and even built a model one for inspiration. I saw many other designs, though, and could not decide on one. I was looking through the book Fifty Wooden Boats when I found the Marisol skiff. What I liked about it was the extremely detailed plans, and miniature version of the plans in book form, which I purchased. Without the benefit of a boatbuilder’s eye, I had no idea how complicated this boat actually is. The gunter rig and scrolled frames are a challenge for a newbie, but I had decided, and ordered the full plans.
The Marisol skiff is not a kit. I started with raw lumber, most of which was hardwoods my dad had left over in his garage from his woodworking days. There was Honduran mahogany, cherry, lots of maple, and some walnut. I had some teak scraps from working on the Arran Mor, our Catalina 30.
So I began. I started with some deadeyes, then the centerboard, and then rudder, tiller, and other small parts. The pictures tell the story of construction up to this point.
To date, which is April 2008, I’ve been working on the boat, which is named “Maddie” after our granddaughter, for a little over a year. I’m about four-fifths finished and hope to be sailing soon. I have posted some builder’s notes here for those builders out there who may benefit from some of the lessons I've learned along the way.
On a more spiritual note, I want to say that the satisfaction I’ve derived so far from this project has surpassed anything I would have expected. At first, I thought only of getting through all the work and getting out on the water. As time passed, and I realized that you don’t build a boat overnight, I had to change my attitude to one of learning to “enjoy the journey, not think about the destination”. There is something special about working with wood, about taking a once-living, natural material and shaping things from it. The smell of the different woods when you cut them, the texture, the look of it when it is varnished, all of this is quite enjoyable. I’m getting close to finishing this boat, and I almost don’t want it to end. Of course, being out in the wind on the water is my idea of heaven.
UPDATE: "Maddie" was launched September 27. 2008. Pics HERE.
YOU-TUBE link of christening HERE.
Our Catalina 30 and other pics. |
