Hot cakes! - Good Old Boat

 February 2008
Newsletter supplement for subscribers
Hot cakes!
O
Good Old Boat
were clueless when it comes to marketing, particularly in the area of sales anticipation. This time, it was the new Tom Payne
T-shirts, first mentioned in the December
newsletter. We said we had w-a-a-y too many
brand-new shirts on our shelves and asked for
help getting them moved out where they really
belong: on the sailors of good old boats.
As it turned out, having too many was not
the problem! We ran out of that first batch
(dozens of shirts!) before Christmas, did a
quick re-order, and had the back-ordered
shirts in the mail on the day before Christmas
Eve . . . in the Nick of time (a few sailors no
doubt received their shirts just in time for all
those “dressy” New Year’s Eve events).
So we’re covered now. Go ahead. Try us.
We can cover you and your crew in T-shirts
in celebration of all your special occasions:
Valentine’s Day . . . Easter . . . boat launch?
nce again the editors of
What makes your old boat good?
That is indeed the question, isn’t it? From your
point of view, what is it that makes your old
boat good? Why are you loyal to this boat?
Why have you invested so much of your own
blood, sweat, and tears into its maintenance
and upkeep? Why do you choose to make it
better as time goes on, rather than ignoring
it as it deteriorates? Why would you rather
be sailing than just about anyplace else on
earth?
Tell us what makes your old boat good in
400 to 750 words, and your response may be
published in the July 2008 10th anniversary
issue of Good Old Boat. We’ll send you some
nice things from our ship’s store as prize
goodies if your essay is selected.
Not every essay can be published in the
magazine, of course, but some of our other
favorites will find their way to this newsletter after our informal contest is over. After
all, there are just as many answers as there
are good old boaters. And every response is
entirely valid.
What have we done for you lately?
And we’re still looking for your input on this
question: What is the best tip you have read
in Good Old Boat? It might have been how
to do something better or it might have been
a money-saver. Please tell us (in something
under 100 words) how reading Good Old Boat
has rewarded you for subscribing. If all goes
as planned, we’ll be running some of these responses and readers’ photos in the July 2008
issue . . . our special anniversary issue.
What’s coming in March?
For the love of sailboats
• J/40 feature boat
• Chris-Craft Capri 30 review
• Hallberg-Rassy Monsum 31 review
• Good old vendor: Hilmark Boats
Speaking seriously
• Rigging maintenance
• Fume Detectors 101
• Anti-fouling paints
• Boom vang
• Losing engine coolant
• Winch repair
• Quarter berth-to-locker conversion.
Just for fun
• A Year in a Yawl excerpt
• The Revision thing
• Dinghies photo spread
What’s more
• Simple solutions: Sail track lubricator;
Scotch-Brite sander
• Quick and easy: Chain hook; Plastic scraper
Inside this issue
Continuing saga of Sparrow.....3
Book reviews...........................4
Remembering Falcon..............6
The Sinking of the
Barbara Ann...........................6
Looking for..............................8
Mail Buoy................................9
Calendar................................11
Excerpt from
The Practical
Encyclopedia of Boating ...........12
How to contact us
Michael Facius, Editor
612-605-8319
[email protected]
Jerry Powlas, Technical Editor
[email protected]
Pat Morris, Production Editor
651-797-3801
[email protected]
Good Old Boat Magazine
7340 Niagara Ln. N.
Maple Grove, MN 55311-2655
763-420-8923
763-420-8921 (fax)
http://www.goodoldboat.com
An episode in the continuing saga
of Sparrow, aka Affaire de Couer
I
1951 when I first met George Capern. The Korean “war”
was on. My brother, Charles, was in the U.S. Army and had
already been posted over there. George and I had joined the
Royal Canadian Navy, Fleet Air Arm, as mechanics. I was a rigger, and George was a fitter. We did not get to Korea.
In 1955, we went our separate ways but both ended up
in Sarnia, Ontario, by 1960. George had become an aircraft
technician, a commercial pilot, and was the airport manager,
while I had become a heavy-equipment mechanic, building an
overpass near the airport.
We met again since our sons played hockey in the same
league. Subsequently, I took a flight with George on some
foundry business over to Ohio. We had a great opportunity
to catch up, and I learned that George was to assemble a new
kit boat brought in from California. This became the 41-foot
Rhodes Bounty named Affaire de Couer. Later, with Bob
Walkinshaw as owner, she was to be named Sparrow.
With friends, we arranged a charter of the Affaire about
1968, after she had been put into charter service down in the
Grenadines, sailing out of St. Georges. George, who was now
an accomplished sailor, had delivered the boat.
Seeing that beautiful boat on the dock at St. Georges was
simply a thrill. All we had to do was provision and get out to
sea for the adventure of a lifetime. That it was!
By nightfall we had sailed northward along the coast but
the engine quit. Thankfully, it was a quiet night: no wind or
waves and pitch black. We decided to turn toward shore and
anchor in a bay . . . where it seemed the bottom was nowhere to
be found. We had the entire scope out and crept inshore until it
hooked. We made the decision to return to the marina after a
restless night in that bay.
In the morning, the engine started right up but it quit several times on the return trip. We sailed a bit and arrived at the
marina in the evening. We made fast to await the mechanics
from the marina in the early morning. Then to bed.
We awoke, very early, to find the floorboards afloat and
water up to the companionway ladder. Panic stations! Bailing
was immediately commenced with a bucket brigade. As we
reduced the quantity of water in the boat, we discovered that
the switch for the bilge pump had been switched off during the
night . . . hence the volume of water in the boat. (I must confess
that it was I who had kicked off the switch while asleep in the
pilot berth).
With the pump working, the boat soon emptied but more
water kept coming in. We could not find out the entry point
until the mechanics came by. They soon determined that
t was
by Allan Browne
a grease fitting in the shaft assembly had worked out; the
repair was made. But, of course, the cleanup took longer that
anticipated . . . eating into our charter time.
Finally, we were ready to go again, except the motor quit
once more on a test run. This puzzled the mechanic who, after
a minute’s thought, asked for half a grapefruit. He took it, hunkered in the engine compartment, then came on deck to wait.
Finally, he tried the engine. It started up and purred nice as
could be. Seems the coil was the culprit and when cooled with
the grapefruit, it responded; the problem was solved.
Of course, there was not a coil in stock for the repair and
our time was running out. That was more or less the end of our
once-in-a-lifetime Caribbean charter. We all flew home somewhat disappointed, but tanned.
Moving through the years to 2005, I am now living in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. I volunteered at the Fisheries Museum Boat
Shop. It was there that I met Bob Walkinshaw. A lot of talk
goes on in that shop with people dropping by to chat about this
and that. It was during one of these chats when Grenada was
mentioned in passing that I remarked on our charter some 37
years ago.
My last knowledge of the Affaire de Couer was that she had
been chartered and stolen by some dope(y) people and was
found sunk in Florida. End of story.
But Bob piped up to say he had purchased a boat that had
been sunk in Florida, that he had refurbished it, and that he
had sailed it for many seasons along the eastern seaboard
before selling the boat once more to go where . . . who knows?
What are the chances that this could be the same boat after all
this time?
But it was. Affaire de Couer had surfaced again in our lives
after a hiatus of some 40 years. Bob had pictures and I was
delighted to learn that he bought the boat in Sarnia from John
Blunt, who had the boat raised out of the muck in Florida.
Coincidentally, George Capern and I had remained in touch
over the years. I was able to send him Bob’s article about Sparrow and so the circle is complete now that a further communication has been received from the present owner, Ken Knerr.
It certainly does make one wonder about who else may have
been involved in the history of this excellent Philip Rhodesdesigned sailboat. It appears that she is in excellent shape
down in Georgia under Ken’s ownership. I would love to take a
trip with George and Bob to go and visit — perhaps to resume
my charter?
So now, in the words of an excellent broadcaster, “you know
the rest of the story.”
Listen to stories of the sea
www.AudioSeaStories.com
2 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
How you got started sailing
We asked how you started sailing — and you’ve been telling us
Learning the hard way
I learned to sail in the summer of 1969 — I was newly mustered out of the Navy and I had just started college in Florida.
My roommate at the time, Mike, owned a house on the shores
of Lake Carroll in Tampa. Our neighbors had a Sunfish that
was available for our use. A Sunfish isn’t much more than a
surfboard with a lateen rig, a rudimentary rudder, and centerboard. There were only two lines to learn: a halyard and sheet.
a basic boat.
Mike and I often went sailing after class, and although he
often offered to teach me how, I had little interest in the sport.
I was obsessed with sports cars and was dedicated to competing and officiating in rallies, autocrosses, and gymkhanas.
Besides, I had just been part of the navigation team of a missile
frigate; somehow, mastering a 12-foot board with a triangular
sail just didn’t seem to be worth my effort.
One windy afternoon, as we often did, we went for a sail.
Mike raced downwind to the center of the lake and, with no
warning, and even less ceremony, dove into the water and
started swimming back to shore. “It’s about time you learned
how to do this,” he called out as he stroked for home. I was on
my own.
I had obviously not been paying attention. I could not coordinate rudder and sheet, and before I knew it, I was knocked
down. That pretty much describes the rest of the afternoon
— when I was not stuck in irons, luffing and going nowhere,
I was usually in the water. I had seen Mike recover from a
knockdown and I knew that drill fairly well, but I hadn’t realized he first maneuvered the bow into the wind and loosened
the sheet prior to righting the boat. Consequently, after righting the Sunfish, I usually found myself in the water moments
later, usually under the sail, but sometimes on top of it. When I
finally managed to climb aboard, I usually jibed and would get
knocked down again. This went on, with variations, for what
seemed an eternity. I just couldn’t seem to get it to go the way
I wanted, and it seemed to have a mind of its own, either stubbornly in stays, going nowhere, or scooting along ever further
from home.
By this time, I had been blown clear across the lake and, on
one particularly nasty jibe, I capsized completely, digging the
top of the mast into the lake’s muddy bottom. I wouldn’t even be
able to pull the boat up on the beach and call for help! I eventually had to swim under the boat, grab the mast and unstep it
while hanging onto it upside down under water, then tie the rig
to the boat so it would not sink or drift away while I righted the
craft, re-stepped the mast, hoisted the sail, replaced rudder and
centerboard, and figured out what to do next.
I finally got the hang of it and started to tack back to my
side of the lake. It only took me a few more knockdowns and
missed tacks and at least one ferocious jibe, but by the time I
got to our beach, several hours later, I felt like an expert.
And I was hooked. I never felt any desire to race my car again.
Henry Cordova
Renewing a passion — affordably
As a youngster, I sailed dinghies and even a canoe with a sailing rig. But as the years passed, I had few opportunities to set
the sail. Marriage, raising a family, and career took precedence
over my one-time passion and it was settled in my mind that
sailing would never be something that I could afford. Like so
many, I walked through harbors admiring those who had the
means to set sail.
One of my friends bought a 30-foot Catalina and invited
me to sail with him a couple of times. I went home to my wife,
Hope, and said, “If Bruce can do it, so can I.” The hunt was on;
I was going to buy my own boat. My much more practical wife
protested but I was determined. I was off to the Strictly Sail
boat show in Chicago to look for my boat.
One booth caught my attention, Olson’s Classic Yachts. For
$2,500 I could sail a 36-foot Islander for the summer out of
Monroe Harbor. In comparison to some of the other concepts
of leasesharing, this was by far the least expensive and appeared the most feasible for someone on my budget.
I continued to wander about the show and ran into an old
friend who used to belong to one of the churches I had pastored. We chatted a bit, and then he said he had to get back to
his booth.
“What booth is that, Charlie?” I asked.
“Olson’s Classic Yachts.”
It was a sign! I went back to the booth with Charlie Olson
and signed up to sail on his Morgan 33. A few months later,
after taking lessons and reading everything I could get my
hands on about sailing, I was setting sail out of Monroe Harbor
in downtown Chicago.
Charlie Olson is a retired marketing professor who had
a great idea and, with his wife, Marilyn, made it work. They
purchase older boats, and leaseshare them out each summer.
He has developed various plans for the different boats, which
include a Catalina 27, a 33-foot Morgan, two Islander 36s and a
Morgan 42. The boats are either moored in Monroe Harbor or
docked in Burnham Harbor in Chicago.
Each of the past four summers, Hope and I have enjoyed our
daysails out of Chicago. It has been a great opportunity to introduce friends to a passion that I had suppressed for many years,
but now have been set free to enjoy. Hope was reluctant (to say
the least) at first, but now is seasoned and was even willing to
spend six days leasing a 40-foot center cockpit Beneteau in the
British Virgin Islands last spring, and she’s willing to go again!
This fall, I’ve formed a partnership to purchase our own
boat. We’re in the market for a good old boat.
I have to admit: once again, my wife was right. It didn’t
make sense to buy a boat myself back then. It took Charlie and
Olson’s Classic Yachts <http://www.sailsharechicago.com> to
let me see that. Although I’m ready to take the next step and
become a part owner in a boat, I am indebted to Charlie and
Marilyn for giving me a way to renew my passion.
3 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
Paul Hedberg
Book reviews
Skywatchers 08: A Skyguide Calendar, by Ben
Shadick (Heritage House,
2007; 28 pages; $16.95
Canada, $12.95 U.S.)
Review by Karen Larson
Minneapolis, Minn.
The night sky is full of
starry friends. The trouble
is that most city folk (even
the sailors among us) are
unfamiliar with these regular visitors. For those, like me, who would like to get to know
the night stars — as well as for the advanced stargazers among
us — the Skywatchers 08 calendar is a treasure. You could
hang this calendar on the wall, I suppose, but it’s going to be
much more useful to me as a training tool on the boat . . . out
there where the sky is black and the stars are the brightest.
Author Stan Shadick teaches astronomy courses at the University of Saskatchewan and tells the recreational stargazers
among us: “I hope to share with the reader some of the excitement of recent astronomical discoveries, along with the charm
of ancient tales and First Nations legends about the constellations.” How does he propose to do this? Flip to any page of this
calendar and you’ll understand instantly.
Each calendar page has a notation on every day of the
month, with such useful information as this one selected
randomly for January 23: “The ancient Greek and Roman
mythmakers imagined that Cetus constellation depicted a
whale. The great beast was sent by Neptune to ravish the coast
of Ethiopia after Queen Cassiopeia bragged that she was more
beautiful than Neptune’s nymphs.” The following day features
a more technical blurb: “About 4 hours after sunset, look for
Saturn rising above the eastern horizon. The ringed planet will
be just 3 degrees to the left of the waning gibbous Moon, as
shown on the map below.”
With the help of a small map in the lower corner, you should
be able to find Saturn, as promised. And with the full-sized
image of the Chicago night skyline, you should be able to
recognize the stars in the January night sky. Flip through the
calendar pages and the skylines change from Toronto to London to Vancouver to Baltimore and so on.
This isn’t just a 12-page full-color calendar for the wall. The
publishers thoughtfully added pages so Ben Shadick could
give us additional background, trivia, resources for stargazers,
full-sky maps by season, and planetary conjunctions of interest (Saturn and Mars will be very close together on July 10, for
example).
If you’re in Canada, Europe, or the northern half of the
United States (anywhere between the 37th and 60th parallels),
this calendar will be extremely useful every month of the year.
Don’t be dismayed that we received this gem late in the year
and its review doesn’t appear until the February newsletter.
For those who are in the northern part of the northern hemisphere, it’s been a bit chilly for stargazing anyway. Spring is on
the way. Now’s the time to get the calendar.
Cochrane, The Real Master and Commander, by David
Cordingly (Bloomsbury USA, 2007; 362 pages; $32.50)
Review by Patty Facius
Minneapolis, Minn.
It’s no news to serious readers of
Patrick O’Brian’s Jack Aubrey series
that their hero’s character is based
on the real life naval career and exploits of the late 18th and early 19th
century British frigate commander,
Thomas Cochrane. What may surprise those readers, however, is the
extent of the similarities between
the historical figure and the fictional
character: a captain loved and
respected by his crews; a captain
well-known for his brilliant tactics
and seamanship; a close friend who
serves as his ship’s surgeon; a man
whose life seems almost charmed
at sea but prone to controversy and ill-fated efforts on land,
culminating in a ruinous stock market scandal. Sound familiar, JA readers?
Other authors, including C.S. Forester for his Horatio Hornblower series, have also drawn on Cochrane’s naval experiences. But author David Cordingly’s purpose for writing this book
is not to pay homage to Cochrane’s literary legacy. Instead,
Cordingly concentrates on his subject’s historical legacy that,
according to the author, has not been fully recognized or appreciated by British naval historians.
The author tells the story of an ambitious man who was
born into Scottish nobility and entered the British navy relatively late in life (at age 17) because the family fortune had
been squandered by his father. If the young Lord Cochrane
were to become a wealthy man, he would need to find a way to
make his own fortune. At the same time, war with France was
imminent. And serving in the British navy in time of war offered excellent prospects for quick promotion and prize money.
But Cochrane turns out to be more than a resourceful and
zealous Napoleonic-war era British naval captain. He is a man
motivated by money, yet highly principled, and driven to fight
for his honor, reputation, and place in history.
Cochrane was born a bit ahead of his time and suffered for
it. He was elected to the British Parliament, where he fought
for social reform and made many political enemies who considered him and his political allies as radicals and firebrands
for revolution. Cochrane also made enemies of his superiors
in the Admiralty by using his seat in Parliament to publicly
criticize and condemn the navy’s traditions of flogging, press
gangs, and overall poor treatment of its sailors. Not until years
after he had left Parliament was Britain and its navy ready to
enact the social and naval reforms he championed.
Cordingly assists the reader with an excellent glossary of
18th century naval terminology. Maps, battle diagrams and
a cutaway line drawing with named parts of a 38-gun frigate
(one of Cochrane’s commands) are also great aids to the reader. The book includes beautiful color plate portraits and paint-
4 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
ings of the period, all relevant to Cochrane’s life at sea and on
land. This book is well-researched and dense with background,
not only about his subject but also about the political, social
and naval life in 18th and 19th century Britain. Cordingly’s
sources include the Cochrane family archives, transcripts of
courts-martial, civil court lawsuits, ships’ logs and Cochrane’s
controversial autobiography, The Autobiography of a Seaman.
This book certainly stands on its own as an excellent
biography for historians or readers who are interested in naval
history. If you fall into the latter category, and are also a Jack
Aubrey fan, you will enjoy the best of both worlds.
Cruising with Bettie, by Bob Steadman and Kay Nottbusch, DVD and
slide show (produced by Bob Steadman, 2007; 51 minutes; $19.95 —
available from <http//www.TheSailingChannel.com>)
Review by Karen Larson
Minneapolis, Minn.
Good Old Boat writer, Bob Steadman, and his partner, Kay Nottbusch, want to share their cruising
adventures with the rest of us . . .
those sailors who are dreaming, but not yet experiencing, the
cruising lifestyle. Since leaving Los Angeles three years ago,
they’ve cruised with a video camera or two, taken delight in
experiencing new cultures and activities, and made good use
of Bob’s experience as a professional cinematographer. This
54-minute DVD, supplemented with a visually rich slideshow, is
a real treat for armchair sailors.
In 10,000 miles, Bob and Kay take us to the offshore
islands of the Baja; to the mangroves of Bahia Tenecatita;
to the Gulf of Tuantepec and beyond to El Salvador. They
go hi-lining in Costa Rica, and dine in a restaurant full of
monkeys and a tiki bar that is a swimming pool. They dive
in Costa Rica, transit the Panama Canal, explore the Caribbean coast of Panama, and visit the San Blas Islands. They
motor up jungle rivers and explore the Third World from a
floating home.
By capturing just the highlights of 10,000 miles in 51 minutes, this professionally produced DVD takes the viewer on
a fast-paced tour of the places visited and written about by
many cruisers. But now the sights and sounds are available in
a richer and moving medium. The final cruising destination on
this DVD is the Bahamas.
The photographer in me is always aware of the trouble
anyone must go to in order to capture images from several
points of view. As is the case in any good film, Bob makes
it look simple, but the tuned-in viewer will be aware that
filming your own experience takes planning and execution,
both before and during the experience. For some, trying to
enjoy the moment while actually working to record it for the
enjoyment of others may very well take away some of the joy
of the experience. Bob has indeed sacrificed so that others of
us may sail, dive, and beachcomb with the crew of Bettie. He
may enjoy operating in this dual mode, but I don’t envy him.
The cruise of Bettie continues and the camera is never far
away from Bob’s capable hands. Watch for more DVDs in the
future by this dynamic duo. There’s a whole world out there
waiting to be explored and photographed, edited, and shared
with the rest of us. In addition, stay tuned for more articles
from Bob Steadman in Good Old Boat.
Eileen Quinn Songbook for Voice and Guitar, (CD Baby,
2007; $49.95)
Review by Steve Christensen
St. Paul, Minn.
Jimmy Buffett may be the
songwriter that most people
associate with living in the
islands, but ask any Caribbean
sailor about cruising music and
the name you’re likely to hear is
Eileen Quinn. Eileen has been
cruising full time since 1994,
when she and her husband,
David, left Toronto in their 1987
Bayfield 36, Little Gidding. Along the way she developed a
style of music she calls “bluewater,” dealing with some of the
lesser-known aspects of the cruising lifestyle, such as how to
anchor your boat without the intervention of a marriage counselor. From Quinn’s The Anchoring Dance:
The perfect little parking place is easy to find
All you really gotta do is read his mind
If what your honey wants is hard to tell
When the hand signals fail, you can always YELL
Grind your teeth, shout till you’re hoarse
There’s always one more step, you can file for divorce
No better way to tell a true romance
Than to do, do, do, do, do, do the anchoring dance
She now has five CDs in her catalog, with songs that range
from upbeat ditties about heaving over the rail to poignant
songs about the dream of building a boat (for previews go to
<http://cdbaby.com/group/quinntessentials>). Her newest project is the Eileen Quinn Songbook for Voice and Guitar. This is
a CD ROM that contains the lyrics, melody music, guitar chords,
chord charts, and tablature in printable form for all of her 61
songs. For 34 of the songs there is even a sound file with backup
music for you to play along with and practice your chops.
Many of these songs would be great fun to learn for your
next sing-along on the beach. My personal favorite is called
“Trouble in Paradise” about relationships afloat. About the
tune, Eileen notes,“I write songs to cope with stuff . . . and it
seemed like a better idea to write this country lament about
everything that was bugging me about my loved one instead of
picking a fight.”
The songbook comes as a searchable PowerPoint presentation that requires Windows 98 Second Edition or later (so, for
now, Mac users are out of luck). With this songbook and a bit
of practice (and just a bit of talent) you will be the hit of any
nautical sing-along.
5 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
Remembering Falcon
This morning, on my way to work I diverted from my usual
route to visit an old friend, Falcon. She was resting peacefully, nestled in the garage-size boulders that lay just below
the water’s surface at North Point, north of Bradford Beach.
She is, ironically, being cradled by the very demons that ended
her life. The wind and waves have now turned her bow toward
shore, as if to say, I want to go home. Won’t somebody please
rescue me from this fate? Am I to be taken apart piece by
piece by the ravages of the elements and vandals, stripped
of the dignity of proper and private final hours any vessel
deserves, especially such a special vessel as I, Falcon?”
I first met the Falcon when she arrived at my boatyard in
March of this year. Through the Internet I became aware of
the owner’s plans to purchase this vessel and bring her to the
area for restoration. I convinced him to bring it to my boatyard
because I own a sister ship and have been involved in a 30-year
restoration and love affair with the same design that captured
his heart. I soon became aware that his love affair also existed
on another level. The owner, Pavel, is from the Czech Republic.
He and his sweetheart, also a foreign citizen, are approaching
the end of their work visas. Their plan was for Pavel to restore
Falcon, learn to sail, cross the ocean, pick her up in Europe
and return to the warm waters of the Caribbean and beyond.
Living in Illinois, Pavel would spend 2-, 3-, and 4-day weekends
in Milwaukee, working feverishly well into the evenings in
order to make the vessel seaworthy again.
The Falcon was relaunched and christened on
September 1 and underwent the installation of a new shorter
mast with stouter rigging for ocean crossing and the completion of the final rigging and engine adjustments. All this came
to an abrupt end when the novice skipper, making his second
sea trial, fell victim to his lack of knowledge of a poorly
marked underwater reef, the same reef that just a week before had done several thousands of dollars of damage to the
Aegis Wind as she was making her trip from Port Washington
to Milwaukee for winter layup. The Aegis Wind was fortunate
to escape the clutches of the rocks and will live to sail again.
Falcon wasn’t any ordinary vessel. All you have to do is see
her in her current resting place and it’s obvious her hull shape
is not like most boats. She was designed by Fred Gieger to be
built in wood. She possesses the long sleek hull of most wood
boats designed in the mid-1950s. During the infancy of fiberglass boat construction in this country, five men got together
to form a boatbuilding company in the Portland, Oregon, area.
They called their company Yacht Constructors and selected
this Fred Gieger design for their first boat. They went on to
build two more designs but none were as popular as this boat.
They called it the Chinook 34. In Dan Spurr’s book on the
history of the fiberglass boat industry in this country, Heart
of Glass: Fiberglass Boats and the Men Who Built Them,
he credits the Chinook 34 as being the very first production
fiberglass boat. There were fiberglass boats built prior to the
Chinook 34 but not in production. The company built about 60
hulls. The first five vessels were kept by the five owners and
the first hull sold was #6, Falcon.
A close friend of mine once said to me, “When you truly love
boats, you love them all.” I’m going to miss Falcon.
Gene Cramer
President
Cramer Marine, Inc.
The sinking of the Barbara Ann
This story is true; The names have been changed to protect
the guilty, the stupid, and those who should know better.
Also, after 30 years, I don’t really remember those things.
I was chief engineer for a rock and roll radio station in Fort
Lauderdale about two years after I left the Coast Guard. Every
day around 3 p.m. a 45-year-old hippie we called Tom, the news
director, would stop at my office door and invite me to join him
and others out in the antenna field for a joint. I always declined, and he would always reply, “Man you’re missing out on
a great high.” One day, after a couple of months of this, I said to
him, “Tom, you want to hear about a great high?”
“Yes “ he replied with great enthusiasm. I told him this
story:
The U.S. Coast Guard cutter Alert had just started a right
turn to the west, having cleared the buoy SD1.We were scheduled to hold gunnery exercises in an area assigned by the Navy
near San Diego. I had just cleared our departure message with
NMQ, the Coast Guard radio station in Long Beach, when I
heard a frantic call for help.
by Lee Waller
“MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY. THIS IS THE SAILING
VESSEL BARBARA ANN. WE JUST HIT A SUBMERGED
CONTAINER AND RIPPED A 3-FOOT GASH BELOW THE WATERLINE ON THE PORT SIDE. MAYDAY, MAYDAY, MAYDAY.
SOMEONE PLEASE HELP US. WE ARE SINKING. HELP US,
PLEASE.”
I immediately hit the power switch on the ADF and, when
the needle made a swing to the left, requested left full rudder.
“Left full rudder” called the officer of the deck, “Radioman
has the con.” As the needle approached center, I gave further
commands to the helmsman to steady us on the direct bearing
of the Barbara Ann: 182 degrees true.
After waiting a few seconds to see if one of the Coast Guard
shore stations would answer, I picked up the handset for the
pilothouse radio and replied:
“BARBARA ANN, THIS IS THE COAST GUARD CUTTER
ALERT. WHAT IS YOUR POSITION AND HOW MANY PEOPLE
DO YOU HAVE? OVER.”
“COAST GUARD, THANK YOU,” the Barbara Ann replied.
“WE ARE 30 MILES SOUTH OF POINT LOMA ON A CAL 40
6 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
WITH 6 PEOPLE ON BOARD. THE WATER IS UP TO THE
GALLEY STOVE, AND WE HAVE TO ABANDON SHIP NOW.”
“UNDERSTAND, BARBARA ANN,” I replied “ TAKE SOME
LINE AND TIE ALL OF YOUR PEOPLE TOGETHER TO KEEP
WARM AND PREVENT ANYONE FROM GETTING SEPARATED. OVER.”
I waited a few seconds but there was no reply
“BARBARA ANN, THIS IS THE COAST GUARD CUTTER
ALERT. OVER,” I called again. No response. My captain looked
at me, shook his head and said, “I have the con, all engines
ahead flank. Steer course 182 degrees true.”
A few minutes later, as I was preparing the above message
to the rescue coordination center in Long Beach, I heard the
unmistakable sound of a Coast Guard HU16E seaplane pass
overhead heading south. The air station, I found out later, had
heard my conversation with the Barbara Ann and launched
the aircraft to commence searching for the boat’s crew while
we steamed south.
We hoped the aircraft would locate the castaways before we
got there and drop a life raft to get the people out of the water.
The Pacific Ocean is very cold along the West Coast, even in
the summer. The Japan current flows north from Japan, across
to Alaska and down the West Coast of the United States.
As we proceeded south, my captain worked at the chart
table, laying out a search pattern to be used if the aircraft
did not locate the castaways. The plan was for us to start the
search about five miles north of their reported position, just
in case they were not as far south as they said. We were going
to slow to 12 knots and have the aircraft pass back and forth
across our course to cover 10 miles each side of us at 120
knots. This type of ship/aircraft search gives a much higher
probability of detection than either unit searching alone. Two
hours after the initial call for help, we called the aircraft to
join us in a new search pattern. We had been at it for about
45 minutes when the aircraft said, “ALERT, THIS IS 7214 TALLYHO MANEUVERING TO DROP A SMOKE.”
Tallyho means “the object of my search is in sight” and a
smoke is a floating flare used to mark the position of objects or
people in the water. This greatly reduces the chance of losing
sight of your objective while you are maneuvering around it.
We saw the smoke drop just to the left of our bow, less
than two miles ahead. “7241 ALERT, SMOKE IN SIGHT. HOW
MANY PEOPLE DO YOU COUNT?” I called on the radio. The
aircraft replied: “ALERT 7241. LOOKS LIKE SIX PEOPLE TIED
TOGETHER. OVER.”
A slight change in course and in about 10 minutes we were
bringing the castaways aboard with a rescue net suspended
from one of the boat davits. They were immediately taken
below to the galley, given dry clothes, blankets, and fresh hot
coffee. With all accounted for and safely on board, we released
the aircraft to go home, and we turned north at a speed of 12
knots for the ride back to San Diego.
It was about an hour later when a big linebacker-sized man
stepped into the pilothouse. He asked where he could find the
man he was talking to on the radio. The boatswain pointed to
me sitting in the radio room doorway. The big fellow came over
and asked, “You the one on the radio?” I nodded. Sticking out
his hand he said, “I want to shake your hand, mister, you saved
my life.”
“Now Tom, that’s a high.” Old Tom never again asked me to
go out and smoke a joint.
About the Alert
I first went aboard in 1959, a third-class radioman less
than one year out of radio school. I was in love. I had
previously served on two larger ships, on the deck force
and in the radio room, but the intimacy of this little ship
was something I had never felt before. The crew was
warm and friendly and eager to make me welcome.
I was the only radioman assigned. The ship was full
of onlys: one quartermaster, one gunner’s mate, one
cook, one steward, one electrician, but no electronics tech. We did have two chiefs, a boatswain, and an
engineman. There were three officers, a captain, his
executive officer, and an engineering warrant officer.
The remaining deck seamen and enginemen completed
a crew of 28. Also, there was never any of that it’s-notmy-job attitude. Everyone had to crosstrain and assist
everyone else or nothing could be done.
The Alert was the epitome of simplicity. There
were no engine controls in the pilothouse. The throttle
man stood between the engines, GM 8-268A, 400 hp,
two-stroke diesels, and — using the controls mounted
directly on the engines — answered commands sent
to him on the ringy-dingy engine-order telegraph or by
sound-powered telephone. Electricity was provided by a
pair of GM 3-61 generator sets putting out 32 VDC at 600
amps. The windlass, ventilation, and pumps ran on 32
VDC. There were four motor generator sets in the upper
engine room, two with 110 VAC output for the electronics
on the bridge, one for the main communications transmitter, and one for the radar. The electronics, in addition
to the radar, consisted of three radio sets for HF, VHF
and UHF, a fathometer, and Loran in the pilothouse.
The radio room had three HF receivers and two HF/MF
transmitters. All of this equipment used vacuum tubes.
There was not a transistor anywhere on the ship. My
main transmitter was the size of a medium refrigerator
with an output of only 100 watts. A small boiler provided
15 pounds of steam for heat and hot water. The galley
range was 6 feet wide, 3 feet deep, and diesel-fired. It
took three hours to go from cold to hot enough for a
ham-and-eggs breakfast.
The Alert carried two small boats: one 16-foot fiberglass motorboat and one 17-foot wooden Swampscot
dory for rowing through the surf on a coastal rescue.
I was transferred to the Philippines in 1960 and returned to the Alert in 1965.
7 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
Looking for
Folkboat named Trifid
This is my old 26-foot Folkboat, Trifid, on which I sailed along
Florida’s southeast coast and cruised on in the Bahamas with
my girlfriend in 1979. I sold the boat to the production com-
bilge socks or pillows should also be installed in all boats and
they do well at absorbing oil. We use the filter as a second
line of defense. See more about our tug at <http://www.gtbay.
org>. All the bilge products are available through West Marine and other suppliers.
Regarding oil slicks, a very little bit of oil can cover a lot
of water; so what looks bad could, in most cases, have been
avoided with the aforementioned products. However, any one
of these will be overcome by a quart or two of oil. And never
dissipate a slick with detergent; though it makes the slick disappear from the surface, it makes the oil more toxic within
the environment. A modest-sized slick can be easily absorbed
with a sheet of oil absorbent material. All boats should have
some on board!
Phil von Voigtlander
Does anyone recognize this boat?
pany that made the movie Caddy Shack, in which the boat had
its 15 minutes of fame. It was Ted Knight’s boat, the one that
lost its bowsprit during its christening and on which Rodney
Dangerfield dropped the anchor from his massive powerboat.
(They were just fake movie stunts and the boat was unharmed
— it didn’t even have a real bowsprit.)
I am hoping someone out there knows what happened to
her. If so, contact [email protected]. She was
unique among Folkboats in the U.S. as she is carvel-planked.
She was last seen behind the movie producer’s home on a
canal in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, in 1983.
Steve Morrell, Editor
Southwinds Magazine
Clean bilge answer
In response to your letter in the “Good Old Boat Newsletter,”
the BilgeKleen filter has worked well for us. We built the zeroemission Baykeeper tug and have used this filter to assure
that our bilge discharge is clear of oils. Yes, the standard
I would like any information anyone
might have about this sail symbol. I could
not find it on the Good Old Boat website.
Thanks for any help.
Michael Jakubczyk
Austria
[email protected]
Unidentified sail insignia
I was wondering if you or any of
your readers could help to identify
this mainsail. It was supplied with a
Hunter 19 that I bought last year, but,
unfortunately, it doesn’t fit the boat.
It has a distinctive red insignia but I
can’t find a match on the Web. The luff
measurement is approximately 540cm
with the foot approximately 220cm. I
hope someone out there recognizes it.
Peter Halcrow
Scotland
[email protected]
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8 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
Mail buoy
Just giving back
I am Canadian, living in Carignan, Quebec, just east of Montreal. I sail my US 27 out of Chazy River Yacht Club on Lake
Champlain, New York. On a late September day, I sailed with
two sailing buddies, Ray and Barry. We have sailed together for
more than 20 years in many parts of the world. One is a retired
police detective and the other a retired fire chief, two guys you
can depend on if things get a little tight. We were returning
from one of those incredible fall days, flying the spinnaker all
day and returning as the sun was going down and a north wind
picking up.
We hit something that bent the rudder, making the boat go
literally in circles. We dropped the anchor and checked that
we were not holed and then began to consider our options.
We tried to tow her with the dinghy and 2-hp motor. This
sank the dinghy and me with it (I have still not heard the end
of that from my buds). It would have been funny, but the wind
and waves were getting uncomfortable as we were on a rocky
lee shore.
As it was by now dark, we had only two choices: leave
the boat at anchor or get towed. I called BoatU.S. and was
told they had no towboats on the lake. The Coast Guard was
at least 1½ hours away. But leaving the boat would probably have meant losing her. Barry began to shine a 1-million
candlepower light on shore. To my almost disbelief, we saw
a return light and a boat coming out. We were not in 30-foot
seas, but anyone who has been on this lake knows that 4-footers from the north have kept many boats in, especially on a
pitch-black night.
Bob and Bob, two neighbors and fishing buddies, came to
help. Without getting overly dramatic, these two guys risked
their boat and themselves to help people they did not know.
It took more than two hours to get us in with no light and 25
knots of wind.
When we finally got to the marina we introduced ourselves
to find out that Bob, the owner of the boat, is a New York state
trooper as well as a volunteer fireman. The other Bob, when he
found we were from Montreal, told us the story of a Canadian
who helped him with a car problem, so it was “just a little giving back.” Believe me, this was much more than helping with a
car problem. The following day the wind climbed to 30 knots
with gusts to 45. I would have lost Mystic Dream for sure.
When I said that “thank you” could not express my gratitude, they both just said “glad to help” . . . in other words: “pass
it on.” It goes without saying that it will be passed on.
To Bob and Bob on Lapointe Road, Chazy, New York: THANK
YOU! For some, I guess giving is an everyday experience.
Matt Grant replies
About the only way to reduce a hard crease in clear vinyl is
to apply minimal heat (from a hair dryer) and then lay the
panel out completely flat with something heavy on top. If left
flat long enough, the crease will be much less noticeable. To
completely remove the crease, the window panel will likely
need to be replaced.
Matt Grant
Sailrite
This man gets around!
Brian Cleverly sent us a photo, which
was published in the November 2005
issue of Good Old Boat magazine at
the Arctic Circle near the International Date Line. He was in front of
the Russian village of Savoonga on
St. Lawrence Island. Now he’s doing it
again (but this time in a much warmer
climate)
with a
photo of
our favorite magazine at the equator on a cruise from Cadiz, Spain,
to Buenos Aires, Argentina. He
does apologize, however, for being
0.1 angular second early with the
photo.
Editors
Lazy Lucy and the Bagor project
My husband, Guy, and I spend the summer months in Brittany,
Western France, where we are building a Ted Brewer-designed
catboat. Each November when we return, there are three copies of Good Old Boat waiting for us; it’s one of the highlights of
getting back to Florida!
This week I read Deborah Hershey’s excellent account of
the building of Lazy Lucy (September 2007). I was captivated
by her story and full of admiration for the gorgeous results of
Scott’s perfect work. Their experience is so close to ours that
I have not been able to resist writing to her and sharing our
story too.
Bagor is taking shape in a former woodworking shop in a
Yvan Michon
Plastic wrinkles
Does anyone out there know how to remove a crease in a
dodger window? Does it need to be replaced? Help!
Matthew Goldman
Matthew is also known as the “constant waterman.” He
has contributed essays to Good Old Boat and other magazines over the past few years and has a new book out called
The Journals of Constant Waterman. Visit <http://www.
constantwaterman.com>.
9 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
rural farming community. Bagor is the Breton name for “big
boat.” The dinghy is finished and is called Bagig, or “little
boat.” We found the shop by pure serendipity when househunting in 1999. Bagor began life in 2003, once we had finished
work on the house and built Bagig. So far, the hull is complete,
the cabin well on the way, and the cockpit assembly has made
good progress this summer. Like Scott, Guy can’t devote himself to the project full-time, and it is comforting to hear that
Lazy Lucy took 10 years to complete. We are hoping to get
Bagor on the water by 2012.
To alleviate the frustration of being boatless on lovely summer days, we bought a Drascombe Lugger, which we trailer to
the Golfe du Morbihan. She’s a sweet little boat and we get many
compliments on her pretty shape. Here in Florida, we have a
Gemini 105 catamaran, which is managed by Yachting Vacations of Punta Gorda and is ours between charters.
I want to thank Deborah for writing her wonderful story
and thank you for publishing it. Good Old Boat really is an
excellent magazine and something to look forward to when we
get back here!
Sylvia Marlow
Cal 24s are not Lapworth 24s
The article on the Cal 30 brought back a lot of pleasant
memories. As a teenager, I visited the place where they were
constructing Cal 24s in El Segundo, prior to their relocation
in Costa Mesa. I can still remember the smell of fiberglass and
the sweet lines of the Cal 24. The Cal 24 and the Lapworth 24
were two distinct designs. The Cal 24 is a keel/centerboarder,
and the Lapworth 24 has a full keel (with a cutaway forefoot).
The Cal 24 was beamier and shallower and, to my eye, a more
pleasing design.
The relevant statistics are:
Lapworth 24 – LOA: 24 feet 0 inches; LWL: 20 feet 0
inches; beam: 7 feet 6 inches; draft: 4 feet 0 inches; displacement: 4,350 pounds; ballast (lead): 1,650 pounds; working sail
area: 297 square feet.
Cal 24 – LOA: 24 feet 0 inches; LWL: 20 feet 0 inches;
beam: 8 feet 0 inches; draft: 4 feet 6 inches board down, 2 feet
6 inches, board up; sail area: 260 square feet. I don’t have the
displacement at hand for the Cal 24, but I seem to remember it
being more like 3,500 pounds.
I find it interesting to compare these specifications to those
of a Yankee Dolphin, one of which I have owned since 1974.
The Dolphin has less beam and more draft than the Cal 24, but
displaces about the same as the L-24. Robin Lee Graham sailed
an L-24 most of the way around the world.
The Gladiator is a flush deck version of the L-24. I once had
the pleasure of helping to move one from Newport Beach to
Redondo Beach. It is a very sweet sailing boat. The “gold standard” for me in this size range is a Folkboat, which has a very
comfortable motion when beating into 18 knots of summer
breeze with the corresponding chop. The Gladiator has a similar feel. In 1994, Frank Guernsey sailed a modified Gladiator
non-stop from Redondo Beach, California, around Cape Horn
to Uruguay.
Racing sailboats in the ’60s was more casual than today. We
raced from Redondo Beach or Marina Del Rey to Catalina on
Saturday, have a barbecue on shore, and race back on Sunday.
What motivated me to write was that the Cal 30 article
stated that the Lapworth 24 was renamed the Cal 24, when, in
reality, they were two distinct designs.
Also of note is that the Gladiator is a flush-deck version
of the Lapworth 24 and, while many people know that Robin
Lee Graham sailed a Lapworth 24 most of the way around the
world, few people know that Frank Guernsey sailed a Gladiator non-stop from California around the Horn to Uruguay.
Alan Brothers
You call that a recall?
It has come to my attention that Groco has a recall on some
of the company’s imported bronze ball valves/seacocks. They
have documents online detailing the affected valves and their
replacement policies. Two documents that I have found are:
<http://www.groco.net/svc-bltn/cat-svc-bltn-2-08.htm> and
<http://www.groco.net/svc-bltn/ibv-fbv-stem-large.htm>.
In my mind, Groco is doing a disservice to its customers
with the way the company is handling replacements. First you
have to obtain a “return authorization,” a usual practice for any
return, then you send your old valve(s) back to the company
and wait for people there to send out replacements once they
receive your old one(s). They are not offering any recompense
for your expenses; the cost of haulout, labor, and boat storage
are your responsibility.
If that is the normal manner in which Groco treats its customers, I can assure the folks there that I will never purchase
one of the company’s products, nor will I ever recommend
Groco to my customers.
Brian Cleverly
Welcome aboard, Adam!
I have spent much of my life on the water in powerboats, big
and small, and have even worked for a time in the marine
industry. A few years ago I sold my last boat and began a quest
to find that one right boat . . . a 25- to 30-foot tug. As I started
counting the cost of operation I decided to compare sail vs.
power and fell deeply in love with the power and freedom of
the wind.
Good Old Boat has fostered that love in an ever-changing
romance with the sea . . . every issue brings me closer to that
one perfect boat. One day I hope to share that discovery with
readers of Good Old Boat.
10 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
Adam Zumwalt
of our abilities. In the end, we have fussed over every screw,
nut, bolt, piece of wood, and surface in the boat. Some
modifications were for repair and strengthening, while others
— like the flush toilet and the pull-out bed we added to the
central cabin — were to make ourselves more comfortable.
The result is our shiny new baby, Moonset, which we are taking down to Florida this Christmas to sail for the first time.
The project has brought us closer to our boat, our dreams,
and each other, and we hope it inspires other newbie sailors
out there to begin their own sailing journey.
Melanie Wyder
Thanks to Sailboats Inc.
Moonset sets sail once more
When we bought our neglected 1972 Catalina 27 in 2004 it
was probably sailable, but completely unrespectable. Over
the last three years, we have transformed the boat into a
quite respectable and customized vessel that meets our
needs and dreams as we prepare to launch her for the first
time this December. We expect to own this boat for many
years, so we completed each job thoroughly and to the best
I read Theresa Meis’ article in the November 2007 issue (“The
sailing bug bites hard”) with great interest, as I had a very similar experience this summer on a course run by Sailboats Inc.
Our instructor, Captain Sue, is a very wise and experienced
sailor and a firm, but very gentle, instructor. It was a wonderful
way to get back into sailing after a four-decade absence.
Robert Levine
Brings tears to my eyes
I love your magazine. I was raised on the repair of wooden
boats. I am in search of a 47- to 54-foot cat with trashed
engines and a poor interior to convert to electric motors and
genset interface. I’m well versed in wood, fiberglass, electrical, and plumbing and I hope to relocate to Charleston,
South Carolina.
Your article on closing the wood shop (November 2007)
brought tears to my eyes. I’m about to close my operation (35 x
25 wood shop) in Charlotte after 35 years. My stuff can be seen
online <http://www.markworkshard.com>.
Mark Sprinkle
Calendar
Deep Water
Reflections of Superior — Artists under Sail
Deep Water is the amazing and compelling true story of the
fateful voyage of Donald Crowhurst, an amateur yachtsman
who enters the most daring nautical challenge ever — the very
first solo, non-stop, round-the-world boat race.
Sponsored by the Sunday Times of London, the muchballyhooed event attracted a field of nine, including Crowhust, who set out to circumnavigate the globe in late 1968.
Battling treacherous seas and his own demons, Crowhurst
almost immediately comes apart as he faces the isolation of
nine months on the high seas.
Through re-enactments and interviews with family and
friends, the viewer witnesses Crowhurst’s maritime inexperience and eventually an ending that shocked the nation.
For more information, check the PBS website, <http://
pbs.org/independentlens/deepwater>.
An exhibit of approximately 40 oil paintings, etchings,
photography, book art, digital illustrations, videos, and
woodblock prints, all of them resulting from a circumnavigation of Lake Superior during the 2001 and 2003 seasons,
will be celebrated at an opening from 2 to 4 p.m. on May
10. For more information, go to <http//www.CrookedTree.
org> or contact Gail Hosner, visual arts/education director
at 231-347-4337 or [email protected].
PBS’s Independent Lens series
June 18, 2008
10 p.m. (EST); check local listings
May 10 – August 17, 2008
Crooked Tree Art Center
Petoskey, Michigan
11 Good Old Boat Newsletter February 2008
Fathoms
Embracing a misconception: an illogical, regressive move
The fathom is gradually being ousted on new charts by the
meter, so it will pay you handsomely to inspect the notes on
your charts to see how water depths are measured. It comes
as a nasty shock to find yourself in 2 meters where you thought
you had 2 fathoms.
Thechangetometers—althoughinexorable—ishardly
logical because the meter itself was a miscalculation. The
French believed there were exactly 10,000 kilometers between
theequatorandthepoles.However,theydidnotdotheirsums
properly, and the length of the meter later had to be redefined
(incredibly) as 1,650,763.73 wavelengths of the orange-red
radiation of an isotope of krypton (Kr86).
You probably won’t have an isotope of krypton handy when
next you’re sounding the depth of your anchorage with a lead
line, but you do have two arms, from which springs the far
more natural measurement called a fathom. It comes from
the Old English fæthm, meaning outstretched arms, or an
embrace. Different sailors had different-sized embraces, of
course, so the unit known as the fathom was eventually standardized at 6 feet.
Now 6 feet is a good, enthusiastic embrace, but it’s also a
subdivision of the cable, which is 100 fathoms (600 feet). The,
cable, in turn, is a subdivision of the nautical mile, which for
practical boating purposes is understood to be 6,000 feet or
10 cables.
The nautical mile equals exactly 1 minute of latitude and
may be measured directly off the side of a Mercator chart,
which is why France and other metric countries still navigate
with trusty nautical miles rather than tainted kilometers. The
change to meters on nautical charts is surely a regressive
move, and a triumph of uniformity over logic.
7340 Niagara Lane North
Maple Grove, MN 55311-2655
by John Vigor
Change Service Requested
The Practical
Encyclopedia of Boating
Note: This went to subscribers with email addresses
in early February. If you’re getting this by mail,
either you’ve requested a printed version or we don’t
have a current email address for you. We’d much
rather send this by email. If that works for you,
please contact us with your email address: (mark@
goodoldboat.com).
Excerpts from
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available from the Good Old Boat Bookshelf.
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