Good Memories

  I was on Facebook when I saw a photograph of a wooden cabin cruiser. The caption said it was a picture of when those folks had restored her. I love wooden boats. I don't own any wooden boats because they are expensive things to maintain, same reason I don't own any classic automobiles. But it sure brings a smile to my face to see them. My father had several of them over the years. Each one was a work in process and enjoyed only for a short time. You see in the 1960's on Long Island older boats were plentiful and most of them were wooden. Fiberglass had first been used following WW2 and only gained in popularity for it's ease in maintenance. Fiberglass was the thing and wooden boats were just old. Not old enough to really be considered a hobby or collectible, wooden boats could be purchased cheaply. My father worked at a boat yard and a marina at varying times. It was during those times he got those boats. Well, that's the way it usually happens. You work at the car dealership you get a car, you work at the clothing store, you get new clothes, you work at the boat yard, you get a boat. 

 Yesterday I was writing about my ancestors and what they did for a living. We don't often think of our parents as our ancestors, but they are. I'm an ancestor to my children and grandchildren! That doesn't sound quite right but it is. Then seeing a picture of that boat I was reminded once again of working with my Dad on wooden boats. I helped with the engines. Antique engines these days. Grey Marine was a name I remember well. Six cylinder in line engines with a reverse gear. Dad would talk about the heat exchangers, line shaft bearings and the screw. I helped running wiring from bow to stern. The earliest boat I remember him owning had a big old knife switch next to the batteries. It looked like something out of a Frankenstein movie. It was the main cut off for all the power. Once we had an electrical fire and Dad hollers open the knife switch! I did, the fire was put out, the wire replaced and we continued our voyage.

 The thing I remember the most was helping to do the " bottom. " That's what was said, we need to do the bottom. The boat was brought out of the water and trailered into the yard by the side of our house. No renting space at the boat yard for us, that was for people with money. Once positioned the boat was put on blocks. The blocks were whatever materials we had available at the time. The trailer would then be pulled out from under her and you were ready to go. First the bottom had to be scraped of barnacles and such. Labor intensive? You bet it was, and so was what was to come. Next we would strip the bottom. That was done using a blow torch and a putty knife. I remember well the sound of that blow torch, the smell and the fumes. That old bottom paint surely contained lead but it wasn't a concern. In fact, the lead made it strip a bit easier as it melted. Sanding came next to smooth that hull out. Of course you had to caulk her too. Dad had a big old paper bag full of oakum. It would be driven into the seams with a caulking iron. That was a long and somewhat tedious task but a vital one. Screw that up and your boat will leak. I can recall Dad filling the bilge with water while the boat was still on the blocks. The water would cause the wood to swell a bit creating a watertight seal. He couldn't fill it to the waterline of course but at least that much could be checked before launching her. Oh and of course a fresh coat of bottom paint would be applied, usually red for some reason although I do remember one being blue. And all of that was done by hand, no electric sanders or tools of any kind used. 

 Now there are still plenty of folks that know all about that process. Wooden boats are hobby craft these days enjoyed for their charm more than anything else. I am in the crowd that believes there is nothing better than a wooden boat. I love the smell, the sound and the way they ride in the water. They each have their own personality. They were built, not formed. In my mind that makes a difference. Fiberglass and resin doesn't have a soul, wood does. It was, after all, a living thing at one point. Making it into a boat only seems like the natural thing. A return to the water that made it grow in the first place. A homecoming of sorts. A romantic notion? Yes, perhaps it is but wooden boats have that appeal to me. I'm transported in time just by the sight of one. Memories of a time gone by I suppose. 

                      

 This is a blow torch in case you don't know. Yes, Dad had one and we used it all the time. Not just for stripping paint, it was used in plumbing to melt the lead for closet drains. Dad once toasted a sandwich with it! He did that to amuse me, and it did. Hey he wiped off the shovel first before putting the bread on it. Ah, good times, good days, and good memories.