Gimme that old-time religion.
Now I'm a missionary
By Martin van der Wal from TELL TALES
The Blessing of the Waters - Brightlingsea 2017
The readers who might have brushed past a few of my previous posts regarding the love of wooden boats are aware I’ve described it as a mystery cult. Let’s face it; it’s a complete mystery to most people. Why would anyone go past the convenience of vessels moulded from petrochemical resins and deliberately choose something hand-made from tree. It will obviously require more time spent on maintenance, more time spent on regular care, more money, more self-education, more patience, more commitment. Commitment ! Oh Yeah ! You neglect a wooden boat and she will bite your arse big-time.
Virtually every dream a sailor has is in some way a dream of measuring up. Most are content to measure up to the weather, the navigation, the Finish Line, the tidy lockers. Wooden boaters have all these yardsticks in common with their petrochemical compadres, it’s just they want to go one step further. This step is often into the unknown, often open to self-questioning, sometimes regretted. It’s a desire to measure up to the embedded values inherent in unique craftsmanship using nature grown materials on the one hand and the need to engage in a comfort-zone avoidance strategy on the other, measuring oneself against resilience.
The contemporary meme describing this avoidance of comfort is ‘ Friction Maxxing.’ For some people ‘comfort’ is a type of slow-death. A slippery slope down to CKM Syndrome. And we are surrounded by it. On every-side it creeps towards us, stifling our self-reliance, dumbing us down, isolating us from reality. Need a meal ? DoorDash it. Need an answer ? AI’s got it. Send a Email — Chatty’s there. Entertainment— An embarrassment of Apps awaits. Our culture is top heavy, it wants to make bottoms of us all.
Playing with wooden boats: Well ! You want friction maxxing — you got it !
OK ! You've decided to join the cult, the petrochemical path is just too ordinary — you're hankering to join those who know the difference between a futtock and a floor. Yep, get ready to learn the secret language; (and look out for the secret handshake. Eek! What IS that sticky stuff !!?) You’ve got a serious headfuck coming your way, throw out all sleazy modern ideas of making as much of life as easy as possible.
The Ancient Greeks had two words for ‘happiness’.
Hedonia - temporary emotional highs - comfort - a full stomach.
Eudaimonia - the pursuit of a meaningful life, reaching your highest potential.
Every boat, every time you drop the mooring, will usually give you a measure of Hedonia, the Eudaimonia part must however be consciously sought. That path inevitably requires embracing hard lessons. No pain no gain.
So you're opting for friction maxxing. Will it polish you or burn you. You better walk into the mystery with your eyes open. Wooden boats, like all boats, are a test. For some it's a simple test; how deep is my wallet, I’ll pay for everything. For others it’s a test of personal budget and project management. What can I learn to do —( keep pushing that envelope) ? What do I have to pay others to do ? That's the nuts and bolts of maintenance dealt with. Then there’s sailing the damn thing. It’s very unlikely to spin on a sixpence, indeed it might be quite stubbornly attached to the straight line it’s already on. Learn all it’s unique characteristics before getting ahead of yourself, give everything a wide berth at first.
The Stoics have it that the sure path to reaching your highest potential is through ‘virtue’. Virtue means different things to different cultures but the common thread is a type of honesty. The thing about a wooden boat is that honesty is definitely the best policy. She was built by honest toil out of honest materials, (if not; avoid like the plague). Your obligation is to carry that thread of honesty forward as her future unfolds. That in turn will teach you lessons about honesty. You will be tempted to cheat on her ! The short-cut, the cheapest, the cover-up, the neglect, believe me they will all come back to haunt you and your bank balance in the future. By all means never forget the ‘Stitch in time saves nine’; indeed it does, but make it a good stitch, and one which won't make it harder to do the job properly when you get to it.
This is beginning to sound like a sermon for the newly converted. Sorry ‘bout that ! Just that two long-term crew members of mine have joined our cult in the last two weeks, so newbies are on my mind.
Hoana seeped into their soul and I garnished with a little brainwashing. They both looked half-seriously and hesitantly at what the market had offered over the last several years. They weren't stuck on wood but the old resin boats they looked at for the money they could afford had a lot of things wrong with them; it was to be the first boat for both.
I was looking for serendipitous timing, I knew a couple of outstanding wooden vessels were coming on the market.
Skagerrak ( Knud Reimers Albatross 32 ) was the first to find her new owner. Fred has raced with me for thirteen years and Lindsay Buckmaster who he bought her off is an old friend of Hoana. Everytime I sit on the cockpit slats and put my hand on her tiller I’m touching his craftsmanship. He was a gracious and helpful font of knowledge when I was a newbie. Lindsay’s day job was metallurgist, but he’s built three yachts, restored others, and has countless sea-miles under his belt. He’s owned Skagerrak twice. First he restored her and sold her on. Then a couple of owners later she was in a neglected state. He repurchased her and brought her back up to scratch. The pre-purchase surveyor was astounded; totally dry boat, and everything in tip-top condition. Fred is sailing off on a firm foundation in a strongly built boat made of the finest timbers with a serious pedigree for a very reasonable price.
Skagerrak
Fred looks pretty happy with his first time out on Skagerrak
Retired Master Shipwright Ian Smith found himself over-boated. His latest, the one he’s keeping, is the Ranger 24 Volunteer. She has just won Classic Boat UK magazines; 2026 prize for ‘Modern Classics Sail’. The decade he spent building her in his garage being
Two outstanding vessels in excellent condition purchased for very reasonable money by modern younger people looking to find their analogue islands ( see previous post Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep ) with a bit of friction maxxing thrown in to spice it up. I’m hoping this is a trend. My other crew members are green with envy.
Yet another previous post ( Virtue Signalling ) took a dive into my very own pursuit of eudaimonia during 40 years of Hoana ownership.
Looking back I can't help looking forward, really looking forward, to whatever the future holds with Hoana. My sincere hope is that my shipmates, (they’ve promised to keep racing with me,) have as rich and rewarding an experience with their boats as I have had with mine. Praise the Lord and pass the sandpaper.properly rewarded with this prestigious global award. Craftsmanship of the highest order is also evident in the boat he and his son built back in 2007. Serenity (Lyle Hess 24 Bristol Channel Cutter), a sister-ship to the Serrafyn made famous by Lynne and Larry Pardey. Arslan arrived from Turkey around twelve years ago and it was not long before he, like Fred from Colorado , were learning how to sail on Hoana. Arslan is now the proud owner of a gaff topsail cutter; a little ship in excellent condition, new rigging, a near new motor, strip-planked, glass sheathed; turnkey.
Serenity
First time on Serenity’s helm for Arslan
Two outstanding vessels in excellent condition purchased for very reasonable money by modern younger people looking to find their analogue islands ( see previous post Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep ) with a bit of friction maxxing thrown in to spice it up. I’m hoping this is a trend. My other crew members are green with envy.
Yet another previous post ( Virtue Signalling ) took a dive into my very own pursuit of eudaimonia during 40 years of Hoana ownership.
Looking back I can't help looking forward, really looking forward, to whatever the future holds with Hoana. My sincere hope is that my shipmates, (they’ve promised to keep racing with me,) have as rich and rewarding an experience with their boats as I have had with mine. Praise the Lord and pass the sandpaper.