My last boat was historic 1934 Monterey Clipper, the Blue Eagle (named for a program that was part of the National Reconciliation Act). Over the course of several years I scraped and painted, and scraped and painted, and scraped and painted, and.... well you get the idea. There was electrical work as well, not to mention dockside trips every day or two, just to check up on her. I rarely actually went out on her, fearing that iron fasteners over seven decades old could go at any time. Eventually I gave her to the San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf Historic Fishing Boat Association.
They were delighted! She is in wonderful shape for her age they tell me, and they feel such a connection to the fishermen of decades past as they proudly scrape and paint her. They discuss color schemes, and period correct restoration ideas, and had many volunteers show up to refasten the hull. It seemed everyone wanted a piece of the action; a chance to work on this marvelous old ship. When they talk to me about the boat it is always in terms of what project they are doing, and what is going to be next. True, they have taken her out a few times, but that hardly gets a mention.
Once again we see how people seek different things from their boats. I still miss her (they allow me to visit whenever I wish), and in many ways suspect she was the best boat I've ever owned, or will own; but then I put my engines in the water, start them right up, and go for a cruise just because I had a few hours free. My hands don't even get coated in decades old oil from keeping the holes in the ribs open so the bilge water can flow to the bilge pump, and I know I made the right choice, and I wouldn't have it any other way. And yet as I watch them working on her, their hands all grimy, covered in sweat and flecks of paint, I realized that neither would they.
David B.