She sat in the yard next to the house. Resting on blocks of wood and supported on the sides by long timbers holding her erect. She was 28 feet six inches in length with a beam of seven feet at the gunwales.Her paint was faded and peeling in places. The bottom was covered with a green colored growth and small mussels. A traditional looking craft with a raised windshield enclosing three sides. The wheelhouse as it was called. I thought it was a yacht !
Where or how my father came to possess her I don't know. I remember her name. " The Montauk "
It was written in bold letters on her stern. She was magnificent. A single six cylinder Gray marine engine was nestled amidships coupled to what Dad called a reverse gear. This transmission also made it travel forward but Dad always called it the reverse gear. The engine was covered with a large wooden box. Out through the side of that box came the exhaust stack. It was just a plain large pipe that stuck up in the air. Careful not to touch that as when the boat was operating it was very hot indeed. Traveling forward in the boat there was the door to the cabin. The door was only a few feet in height. There was a section just above the door that could be removed to allow you to stand erect while descending the two steps into the cabin. That piece usually remained open.
The cabin was spartan. There was an area down each side for sleeping. There were cabinets on the walls. She had ,if I remember correctly ,three port holes on either side. The head was in the bow. A small amount of lighting was installed that ran off the batteries. I vividly remember those big old batteries sitting in the rear of the cabin. Large braided wires connected them together. A single large round wire lead to a huge knife switch. That switch always reminded me of something out of a Frankenstein movie. Igor,throw the switch. From the switch the wire lead to a fuse panel with a spaghetti of wires running all directions. All of this fully exposed.
It was on this boat that my Dad taught me about caulking a wooden boat. He had brown grocery sacks full of what he called oakum. Oakum,in case you don't know is nothing more than hemp or jute fibers. Lightly coated with tar it makes an excellent sealant. After we had scraped all the loose paint off and cleaned all the joints out of loose material we began. Using a tool like a large flat chisel we drove this oakum in the space between the planks. Dad told me ,don't call them boards boy,they're planks when working on a boat ! A lesson I never forgot. We worked from stem to stern. All the while Dad explaining about how to build boats and their various parts. He explained to me how once that oakum got wet it would swell up and fill the seam making it watertight. It took some time but we got her done.
Next came the painting. We put what Dad called bottom paint on her up to the waterline. A special type of paint that resists marine growth. Ours was a red color. The rest of the boat was given a fresh coat of white.
Even the transom was painted white.It was beautiful. Little else was done to her. This was no pleasure boat. This was a working boat. Used mostly for scalloping, but some clamming had been done with her.
I remember the smell of the cabin most of all. A mixture of wood,salt and fuel. I loved that smell and still do. It may sound like an odd combination but if I could bottle it, I would. A wonderful smell if ever there was one.
We went blue fishing with that boat. I recall trolling in three mile harbor and navigating through the gut. The gut was lined on either side by big granite rocks. The channel ran through there and could become very rough ,very quickly. A dangerous place to be. One had to pass through it to reach open water though. Aye Captain ,hold steady on the wheel and prepare to come about ! I helped pull many a scallop dredge over her gunwales as well.Well I remember the water running out of the scuppers and how slippery that deck became. The weather is normally quite cold when scalloping and that small cabin offered some relief from the elements. There was no heat in there but it did block the wind.
The day came when Dad sold that boat. I don't remember when or why. It just happened. As children we never questioned what Dad did or why he did it. She was an old boat when he acquired her. I'm guessing the upkeep on her was getting to be too much. How many of us got rid of those fine wooden crafts for the worry free material called,fiberglass. What a shame. Fiberglass my friends does not have the same wonderful smell as that old wood. The " Montauk " was a special boat. At one time she was" registered " That meant she didn't have to have those numbers painted on the sides of either bow. She was a registered vessel. A big deal and important. At least in my mind it was. When Dad owned it it was not registered and had numbers on it.
This wasn't the only boat named Montauk. I have heard of others. I doubt that she was the first . But I'll always remember that wonderful old boat. I do have two mementos from her. Her bell. It is a small bell made from brass. Dad kept that bell. He liked it and so do I. It is just stuck up in the attic for right now. Just sitting there and waiting for a new vessel. Perhaps it will find a new home someday. I'll have to remember to tell this story to the Grand Kids so they know about the bell and it's significance. The other item is the emergency bow light. This light ,with it's red and green lenses has a place to put a candle inside. There was a bracket fastened to the front of the cabin for mounting it. In that way if you suffer total lose of power you could still been seen. It makes a nice conversation piece. Been meaning to mount it on a board and light it up. Make a little project out of it.
This is just another memory from my youth. Growing up on an Island it is a good thing to know about boats and boat building.You never know.There is a whole lot more I wished I had paid more attention too. Youth is wasted on the young ! Somebody said that and they certainly are right about that.
Where or how my father came to possess her I don't know. I remember her name. " The Montauk "
It was written in bold letters on her stern. She was magnificent. A single six cylinder Gray marine engine was nestled amidships coupled to what Dad called a reverse gear. This transmission also made it travel forward but Dad always called it the reverse gear. The engine was covered with a large wooden box. Out through the side of that box came the exhaust stack. It was just a plain large pipe that stuck up in the air. Careful not to touch that as when the boat was operating it was very hot indeed. Traveling forward in the boat there was the door to the cabin. The door was only a few feet in height. There was a section just above the door that could be removed to allow you to stand erect while descending the two steps into the cabin. That piece usually remained open.
The cabin was spartan. There was an area down each side for sleeping. There were cabinets on the walls. She had ,if I remember correctly ,three port holes on either side. The head was in the bow. A small amount of lighting was installed that ran off the batteries. I vividly remember those big old batteries sitting in the rear of the cabin. Large braided wires connected them together. A single large round wire lead to a huge knife switch. That switch always reminded me of something out of a Frankenstein movie. Igor,throw the switch. From the switch the wire lead to a fuse panel with a spaghetti of wires running all directions. All of this fully exposed.
It was on this boat that my Dad taught me about caulking a wooden boat. He had brown grocery sacks full of what he called oakum. Oakum,in case you don't know is nothing more than hemp or jute fibers. Lightly coated with tar it makes an excellent sealant. After we had scraped all the loose paint off and cleaned all the joints out of loose material we began. Using a tool like a large flat chisel we drove this oakum in the space between the planks. Dad told me ,don't call them boards boy,they're planks when working on a boat ! A lesson I never forgot. We worked from stem to stern. All the while Dad explaining about how to build boats and their various parts. He explained to me how once that oakum got wet it would swell up and fill the seam making it watertight. It took some time but we got her done.
Next came the painting. We put what Dad called bottom paint on her up to the waterline. A special type of paint that resists marine growth. Ours was a red color. The rest of the boat was given a fresh coat of white.
Even the transom was painted white.It was beautiful. Little else was done to her. This was no pleasure boat. This was a working boat. Used mostly for scalloping, but some clamming had been done with her.
I remember the smell of the cabin most of all. A mixture of wood,salt and fuel. I loved that smell and still do. It may sound like an odd combination but if I could bottle it, I would. A wonderful smell if ever there was one.
We went blue fishing with that boat. I recall trolling in three mile harbor and navigating through the gut. The gut was lined on either side by big granite rocks. The channel ran through there and could become very rough ,very quickly. A dangerous place to be. One had to pass through it to reach open water though. Aye Captain ,hold steady on the wheel and prepare to come about ! I helped pull many a scallop dredge over her gunwales as well.Well I remember the water running out of the scuppers and how slippery that deck became. The weather is normally quite cold when scalloping and that small cabin offered some relief from the elements. There was no heat in there but it did block the wind.
The day came when Dad sold that boat. I don't remember when or why. It just happened. As children we never questioned what Dad did or why he did it. She was an old boat when he acquired her. I'm guessing the upkeep on her was getting to be too much. How many of us got rid of those fine wooden crafts for the worry free material called,fiberglass. What a shame. Fiberglass my friends does not have the same wonderful smell as that old wood. The " Montauk " was a special boat. At one time she was" registered " That meant she didn't have to have those numbers painted on the sides of either bow. She was a registered vessel. A big deal and important. At least in my mind it was. When Dad owned it it was not registered and had numbers on it.
This wasn't the only boat named Montauk. I have heard of others. I doubt that she was the first . But I'll always remember that wonderful old boat. I do have two mementos from her. Her bell. It is a small bell made from brass. Dad kept that bell. He liked it and so do I. It is just stuck up in the attic for right now. Just sitting there and waiting for a new vessel. Perhaps it will find a new home someday. I'll have to remember to tell this story to the Grand Kids so they know about the bell and it's significance. The other item is the emergency bow light. This light ,with it's red and green lenses has a place to put a candle inside. There was a bracket fastened to the front of the cabin for mounting it. In that way if you suffer total lose of power you could still been seen. It makes a nice conversation piece. Been meaning to mount it on a board and light it up. Make a little project out of it.
This is just another memory from my youth. Growing up on an Island it is a good thing to know about boats and boat building.You never know.There is a whole lot more I wished I had paid more attention too. Youth is wasted on the young ! Somebody said that and they certainly are right about that.
 |
| Still rings true. |
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| A Relic from the past. |
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