Boat builders

He was a tall man of great strength, he was my dad and I loved him more than I ever let him know. He worked with his hands to make a living building wooden boats that were the most beautiful things I had ever seen. It took him, on average one year to complete a boat. He worked very long hours and if I ever wanted to see him, I went out to his shop and watched as he cut and formed the wood that would be the decks. He became a part of the boat watching it grow like a child.

Unlike most dads, when it came time for me to learn from him, he gave me real tools not kids tools you'd find at a store. These were his tools and in a small metal box, he put a rubber mallet, a plane and some sandpaper. He said that’s all I needed right now. I was six years old when he bestowed these tools on me and I had my first feeling of being proud of something.

He gave me a small plank of wood and told me to place it on a sawhorse where he wanted me to sand with the grain until it was as smooth as my mothers' skin. Back and forth, I sanded that plank thinking I was done several times but he didn’t agree and told me to keep sanding. Like most six-year-olds, I grew bored and asked if I could be finished? He said if I quit now, it would take twice as long to complete what I had started which meant I couldn’t move on to using the mallet or the wood plane. But I was six and went back into the house and my toys.

I overheard my mom and dad talking that night. She asked him how I had done and he laughed a bit telling her how I grew bored after an hour of sanding. He also told her he saw it in my eyes that I wanted to learn and he was going to do his best to teach me the craft both he and his dad had been doing for so many years. I continued to visit dad in his shop, and eventually, I learned the many aspects of boat building and the love that went into each one we built.

On my seventeenth birthday, dad told me there was a gift for me in the shop. We walked out and as I opened the door, I knew right away what the pile of wood still in shrinkwrap had to be. He told me that was my future boat, one that I would build by myself with guidance if needed. He told me his tools were now my tools, that I had earned the right to use a masters tools.

The next eight months I spent every hour I could on my boat. Yes, I had questions and sometimes I got frustrated but it wasn’t in my blood to give up and I didn’t.On a beautiful spring day, I moved the boat I had built out of the shop and down to the dock. It wasn’t a big boat but big enough so the three of us could take her on the maiden voyage around the point. We waved at neighbors who gave thumbs up as we passed by fellow boat builders asking if she held water? Dad assured them it did not, that his son had built it by himself and wasn’t she a beauty?

Life went on and that first boat I built became one of many. Dad retired and could often be found in the shop smoking his pipe and watching me as I filled another order for a boat. It is a good life, one I grew to love. I still asked him for advice which he was happy to give. But I think the thing that brings him the most happiness is his grandson sitting on his lap knowing he will carry on the family business for years and generations to come.

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