This was to be my tender for a 38ft. schooner I had recently bought. However, things shifted quickly. As I drove past a new chain seafood restaurant being built, I saw a beautiful row boat. So, I stopped and asked a man watching the construction site. He turned out to be the architect. I asked if the boat was for sale.
He told me, “No.” -- That it was going to be used as decoration and will be hung from the ceiling in the bar. In fact, he had put an add in the paper for small old rowboats, and he had 40 similar boats. I was amazed.
I responded, “If you hang it from the ceiling it will break her back, crack the ribs and buckle her planks.”
He responded, “What do I care. I’ll just put another one up.”
So I said, “This a very special boat. It was designed by William Atkins and she’s called HANDY ANDY. Won’t you please sell it to me. I will pay what you ask.”
He said, “Nope.”
I said, “It won’t last but a few years, and I’m currently in boat school. I want to re-build her and pull the lines off.”
He said, “Nope.”
I was bummed out and headed home. I then saw my friend Lex and told him the story. He asked what shape the boat was in. I told him it was pretty poor. The transom is rotten, several planks are sprung, and over half the ribs are cracked.
Lex had been watching me rebuild my dinghy. I got up to go work on it and he said let’s have dinner together. We cooked up a fine feast out of his garden and I had fresh crawfish and a Corona to offer. After dinner we talked about boats, responsibility, and aesthetics. In that moment, we both decided the right action was to load up my dinghy and drive to the restaurant site and make an exchange. But the question of: Will the boat still be there? started to fill our minds.
We agreed the architect would think no-one would steal a rotten derelict like this. So, off we went with my boat in the pickup bed. Well sure enough, there she was. She was beautiful in the moonlight. All went smoothly partly because it was 2:00 A.M.
The next day I took the boat to Gompers (the boat building school I attended.) The instructor sarcastically commented, “Nice.”
I repaired it and added new ribs. I took out the rot, repaired the ribs, refastened the planks, sanded, and repainted her. Wow! Did she row beautifully -- even at 30knots of wind.
So, I decided to go sailing and head out through the locks into Puget Sound. I rafted to the forward bulwarks (a railing around the deck of a boat to keep things from going overboard and the seas from coming aboard,) in the locks and a sailboat pulled in next to me. What a mess this guy had. He had sheets, halyards (halyards are used to raise sails (or yards on square-rigged vessels,) and line all over the deck – which was very slip-shod.
I sailed all day in strong wind and returned to the locks with my dinghy tied to the stern. Here comes this same guy, and ties up next to me. He tied his boat to the stern of my boat. But, neglected to tie his bow-line to my boat. So, as the locks opened I could see his bow swing away with the surge of water entering the locks.
I yelled, “Your bow-line is loose.” He ran forward and cleated off the line. And, as the boat had now swung out to 90° from my boat, the ¾" line stretched and broke with an explosive sound, (with his boat now loose except for the stern line.) His boat swung around smashing my dinghy first, and then stove-in three of my planks, and I was sinking.
I grabbed my bedding and plugged the hole (interspersed with various curse words.) My new acquaintance in the other boat asked if it was his fault. After a brief discussion the Lock Master ordered me back to my corner.
The Lock Master vouched on my behalf legally. It turned out the boat was owned by a brokerage and they wanted their new employee to get a new experience.
My new acquaintance informed me he was the father of a new son and needed the job. I told him I would take his son in lieu of repair damages. He gave me a faint smile.
He begged me not tell his employer as he would loose his job. I eventually got reimbursed for some of the damage. But the best thing that happened was I now had the money to buy materials for a new boat.
I bought the planking from Bob Fowler on Orcas Island. He had milled it up out of a beach-combed red cedar that had growth rings 8 per ¼". I eventually built the boat at Gompers Boat School and we made a mold for fiberglass boats. My instructors named it after me: "Forbes Folly".
To this day, the mold is still being used, and the boat is still being reproduced in fiberglass.