Thanks for the Entertainment |
Chuck and Mike,
I just wanted to tell you how much I've enjoyed reading Wade Tarzia's Enlarged Life article. What a writer! I have laughed and laughed reading his article. I love the quotes and his descriptions.
I know I don't have the excuse of sailing in the Texas 200, but I have also had my puddle duck going in circles at times where I just couldn't get it to go in the direction I wanted. I could certainly identify with his frustration. I have also tried sitting on a cushion in my puddle duck and slid all over the boat. I loved his comment about your sail joining the cosmos when you look up and study it. Unfortunately for me, when I look up to study my sail my hat usually falls in the water.
Thanks so much for the entertainment! I love the article!
Paul Cook
Las Cruces |
A Close Call |
I almost put my Paradox up for sale yesterday.
aradox #2. The second one I built, after having sold the first one because I missed it so. What's a fellow to do? Well, I waited before listing it on the net.
A good thing too, before I went to bed I was off on new adventures, if only in my mind. The mind actually is where adventure begins. We read something, the seed is planted, it germinates, takes root; and those led to wandering are off again.
Most of the time it's only from the arm-chairs of our dreams, but sometimes those dream roots go deep.
hey take hold and never let go.
I met a fellow recently who was having problems giving away a boat he had bought ten years ago. The boat languished, the dream did not. A nice enough guy; the dream, the boat and the owner were thoroughly connected.
I conversed with him over the net. I understood, I told him, yes, I understood and understand. Many a sailor understands as well. When retirement comes and health still allows those "dreams that are only in your head", compliments of Bob Dylan, still maintain their edge, still alive, still sparkle. When we read of another 70ish year old going out, the rekindling starts anew.
At my brother's place, one wind blown afternoon, both being surfers, over looking the beach I said to him, "How many waves do you ride from here?", looking out the window.
Dreams, some people don't understand, they think they don't have any, I suppose. Dreams are what give drive, the mother wanting grandkids may be different from a sailor's; but dreams none the less.
I read last night of a fellow preparing to take a 12' sailboat to the Cape Horn area of South America. I'm glad I didn't list the Paradox.
Michael j beebe |
Roll on Summer!! |
Hi Chuck and team, Compliments of the season to you from New Zealand.
Last weekend three of us Welsford boat owners went for an outing on Lake Tarawera - central North Island, about an hours drive from my coastal home in Tauranga
Alan Hooper and wife Nadine (Welsford Navigator), myself (Welsford Tread Lightly) and Ralf Schlothauer (Welsford Penguin) took to the lake around noon in very light airs (read: virtually windless) to allow Ralf to do some filming with his Phantom drone camera.
Ralf's Penguin hadn't quite finished being 'summerised' for the new season, so he paddled his self-made plywood kayak "Pelorus" for the 5km or so to the little bay we used for filming. It took well over an hour to reach there, but conditions were otherwise perfect.
After sandwiches and freshly brewed coffee, Alan and I sailed back and forth in the light airs whilst Ralf piloted the remote controls of the drone. The picture quality of the Phantom camera is absolutely incredible. Rock steady, sharp images even from 100 metres away.
After 3 hours, and with two 15 minute filming sessions under our belt, plus a lot of chatter and friendly banter, we decided it was time to head off. I was staying on the lake for the night aboard Grace - my T.L., but Alan, Nadine and Ralf had to head back. There was no wind to speak of at that time, so we motored away from the little bay we had picnicked in. Alan reporting that the wind came up about 40 minutes later on the main lake. It provided fun sailing for them in the Navigator (that boat is so well built and is an absolute rocketship compared to the Tread Lightly laden with gear). It was of course interesting paddling for Ralf. I also enjoyed a fresh breeze in the Araki Arm of Lake Tarawera, sailing all points 'til well after 7pm.
The others finished their journey to boat ramps in 'whitecaps'. My day ended with a cooked meal, low alcohol beers and a hot soak in one of the geothermal rock pools at the edge of the lake. The following days sailing on Tarawera was excellent - a steady 15 knot breeze, all day.
Roll on Summer!!
GRAHAME HARRIS
Tauranga, New Zealand |
Remembering Uncle Westy |
An elderly landsailing buddy of mine sent me this note, thought you might enjoy the Westy reference. Seems an apt description of the man. You could attach the quote somewhere on the website if you chose.
Dave Farmer
***********
Sorting through years of WoodenBoat magazines preparing to give all but a few away, I came across this in my old pal Pete Specters’ column of Nov/Dec in the Orwellian year 1984. It seems to bear witness to your expressed opinion of the man:
“Speaking of the late Weston Farmer - the one-time Lip of the Lakes - a series of letters written by him has appeared in the last two issues of Lines & Offsets, the journal of the Traditional Wooden Boat Society. Farmer was a naval architect, magazine editor, nautical writer, commentator, critic, editor-baiter and table-thumper with an ego the size of an overripe watermelon. His letters are stem-winders.
"Lines & Offsets used to be a stem-winder all by itself, but recently has settled down into a reasonably objective, entertaining journal….”
I doubt Lines & Offsets still exists, but it may. Interest in traditional wooden boats is clearly on the wane. (too much stem-winding?) Last spring, one of my friends and PT’s leading small traditional craft builder, Ray Speck, and I had adjacent booths in the big Port Townsend marine flea market. I had the usual assortment of old Barrient winches, Merrimon blocks, bronze rail chocks, cleats, coils of stainless rigging wire, tangs, and a pair of spruce spoon-blade oars I made long ago, one broken in two. Ray had two wooden kegs of square boat nails, bronze bolts, washers & nuts never used and perfect for keel bolts in a 36-footer, a stack of beautiful grown hackmatack knees he’d expertly whittled from roots to use as lodging knees in the 40’ schooner he realized he’ll never build, and sundry other necessities for the do-it-yerself heavy displacement wooden cruising boat builder.
Of all that stuff you’d think would be gold in Port Townsend, only my oars, one broken in two, sold, that to an interior decorator who fit them into the back of her Lexus. Speck and I packed up the rest and returned it to shop & garage.
The oakum & Stockholm tar world of wooden boats is just about gone here, one of its few last-bastions. I’d guess Westy left this coil it at its resurrected peak. May he go on & on & on in peace, quietly.
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