boat refit Archives - La possibilità di un'isola

The inadequate identity of Sailor (or of any other…)

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | April 7, 2020 | Comments 3 comments

I always suffered of identity problems.

It seems self explanatory that identity is the sum of the qualities, mostly beliefs, that define a person’s image. The role this person has in society also feed the sense of identity. It is a common human perception to feel we are individual, unique beings, and we look for evidence to support this perception.

I am walking a very perilous philosophical path here, a walk that I will abandon for now while I keep pondering on it. The identity example serves me to bring you the latest news about life in the boatyard, although in a very elaborate way. This blog used to be about sailing but this deviation toward self questioning and rumination has been evident for quite a while now. Thanks for your patience. Sailing will resume as soon as possible.

Why all this fuss about identity?

I’ll answer saying that is a conceptual element that always puzzled me. I never bought the assumption that we have a true identity that define us and that we have to discover, or better assume.

Take first names. They are the first element of identity, clearly stamped on an ID card. You didn’t even pick it yourself, somebody gave it to you even before they could know anything about you. How much a Fabio am I in the end? This is a silly example that shows how identities are imposed by family and society, they depend on the fortuitous place you happened to be born in and often times they all clash with whom you really are. I can continue bringing more evidence. Are you defined by your job title? Your nationality? The color of your skin? Your gender? Your bank account balance?

Of course the answer is yes and no, and that’s why I find this fascinating. Because who we really are is way more vast than our identities, and it is our job to find out. Or not.

Deviation from the route #2

My tiny sailboat Tranquility is going through some serious transformations and I obey as her temporary keeper. Sometimes I believe the fantasy that boats find their servants by mean of seduction. Once they hooked their victim firmly they start to extract resources in form of time, dedication, labor and most of all money. The servant is usually unaware of the asymmetry of power at work and think they are the one in charge of the situation. They are not. However this relationship of convenience is one to be trusted, as usually boats give back love and dedication in time of need.

Likewise this physical transformation of the watercraft I inhabit reflects an inner transformation. I sense that from weak signals I receive from my surroundings. The fun thing about transformation is that we cannot foresee the outcome, or you would not go that way. Once you have the future it is already the past. It is like playing chess, when you know what is going to happen the game is finished and you have to start a new one.

I met a sadhu high in the Himalayan mountains long ago. He was summoned by a guesthouse mate who was very into spirituality and had met the fella on a bus station earlier that week. The guy was thrilled about the meeting and I was hanging around curious about what a mendicant dressed in orange had to say.

The sadhu looked at me in the eyes for five second at most, then uttered these words: “you are about to jump on the next level” or “this life is taking you to the next level” or something like that. The other guy received the response that he was a fresh soul, coming to earth for the first time and he missed to be with god very much. That explained why he was so spiritual at least in my mind. He was trapped in an unfamiliar reality and wanted so badly to be one with god. Then we asked the sadhu what was his duty in this life: he was here to learn how to convey the “grace” (the best word I can recall) not by words as he just did to us but by staring at people in silence.

The colorful scene happening in a cafe of a barren Himalayan village could be just a travel annedocte from long ago. It took me ten years to realize that the transformation he was talking about had happened not even one year after that “prophecy”.

One day of 11 years ago after a conversation with a friend during Easter holiday I quickly took the decision to leave my career, family and friends to move to a Venezuelan archipelago and run a sailboat charter business. We can ponder a lot about if all this is coincidence, self-fulfilling prophecy, magic, destiny and such without getting a spider from the hole (transl. of an idiomatic Italian phrase). What is evident is that the before and the after look quite different from each other, they are two completely separate identities. So which one is the right identity? Both? None?

I’ll borrow an image that Alan Watts borrowed form Buckminster Fuller (feel free to borrow it as well):

“ suppose we have a rope, and one section of this rope is made of manila hemp, the next section is cotton, the next section is silk, the next section is nylon, and so on. Now we tie a knot in this rope—just an ordinary one-over knot—and you find, by putting your finger in the knot, you can move it all the way down the rope. Now as this knot travels, it’s first of all made of manila hemp, it’s then made of cotton, it’s then made of silk, it’s then made of nylon, and so on. But the knot keeps going on. That’s the integrity of pattern; the continuing pattern, which is what you are. Because you might, you know, be—for several years—you might be a vegetarian, and you might be a meat-eater, and so on. And, you know, your constitution changes all the time, but your friends still recognize you because you’re still putting on the same show. It’s the same pattern that is the recognizable individual.”

The pattern stays the same even when conditions change.

If I looked at myself before the event horizon of my departure for Venezuela all I was good in making with my hands was rolling cigarettes and playing basketball. I was a discrete cook, a good basketball player and I smoked way too many cigarettes. In every other department my hands were clumsy, slow and uneffective.

In my childhood I used to play with my father’s tool. In the courtyard of the apartment building where I grew up I would shape scrap pieces of baseboard into medieval swords and play with other kids, or cobble up a rubber band slingshot out of wood, nails and clothes pins. It excited me but I quickly lost interest in working with my hands. I substituted it with daydreaming.

Wasn’t it much better to imagine to be a mechanical engineer and design and build car engines in the comforts of my mind rather going through the troubles of doing it for real? I had landed with both feet in the world of abstraction and I was very happy in it.

What kept me solidly anchored in the world of abstraction was another element. I was fascinated with the study of language. I took pride of reading books when I was a little kid and I would devour many good and not so good novels and stories and when I earned the title of kid who read the most I went to the trouble of lying about reading a long not so exciting novel about a prehistoric saber tooth cat to keep said title. The teacher gave me a pass on that but I remember from a look in her eyes that the jig was up.

Writing was a direct consequence of it. I of course dreamed about being a writer, and particularly a famous novelist. Not a best seller writer but a novelist whom both critics and public praise for depth of thought, irony and for creating marvelous worlds that stretch our sense of reality. Maturity and input from society values quickly made me understand that investing in such a path would be risky in its outcomes and very likely lead to being poor (something tells me that it was my destiny anyway…). I resorted to other occupations, deciding that being a psychologist was a good way to use language for something socially useful and make a living with it.

Life decided otherwise and this process of transformation brought me back to use my hands in conjunction with my mind to transform reality. The smooth surface of my palms began to show sign of hard spots. Knuckles quickly developed wounds one after the other, with open ones taking the place of old scars. My nails became in need of serious cleaning all the time. The perfectly comfortable dreams of designing custom made objects and structures faced the obvious lack of experience, training and skills. I learned that sailing is hard on your hands, and hard on your mind.

This transformation for sure affected the reality of my identity in a deep way and it was not foreseeable when the sadhu spoke to me. If I knew what was going to happen I would have started to ask myself questions, make judgements and ultimately give up the entire idea thinking that I could do better taking a different path. I am happy I did not, because ultimately I am at best marginal if not naive when it comes to making judgement on what’s good or bad for me.

Putting it all together

The liquid consistency of contemporary life finely expressed in language by Zygmunt Bauman certainly affects identity, it stretches boundaries and allows degrees of freedom that were unthinkable in the past. At surface this whole identity business is still chaotic in my mind as I reject definitions of nationality, age and such as important individual traits. However I recently realized that the knot that slides through the imaginary rope, the never changing pattern, the ultimate identity that works no matter what changes I go through in life is the identity of Writer. Writing has always accompanied me and it will, both as an urge and as a pleasure.

The fact that I am without any doubt a Writer is corroborated by at least four other people. One is a talented world creator who weaves poetic images and hallucinatory quests in the realm of fantasy. Another is a published science writer who likes to express his talent in fictional adventures. There is also a professional designer who uses words to draw humorous and moving pieces. Finally, a student and teacher of language in a rogue mission to shock and awe you through a mix of erotism and wit. They are the Rebel Writers, and I am a proud member. The proof that I am a writer is that I belong to this group of writers, because only writers, and a very special kind, are allowed.

Whatever the next level, whatever transformation is happening I will keep writing about it.

Cockpit locker drainage channels and existential concerns

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | October 27, 2015 | Comments 12 comments

Lately the tone of my blog posts have assumed an unprecedent technical twist. I have always found hard to describe the refit of Tranquility in great detail, and most of the countless jobs proceeded unaccounted. What’s exciting about writing posts like “laminating fiberglass backing plate for deck hardware (and achieving physical flexibility during installation)“, “sealing umpteenth hole in the deck with thickened epoxy” or “screws and bolts inventory: am I missing any“?

Moreover I am a former psychologist and my education and training concernes things like “emotional defense mechanisms“, “coping strategies” and “cognitive fallacies“, and I used to handle tools like “active listening” “participant observation” and “network analysis“. The language of the master shipwright is still an uncharted territory and the rules of technical writing a mystery.

I also assume that the reader (you) is not very concerned about a bunch of technical digressions on boat construction and repair. It may be a wrong assumption in the end, as the whole point of taking an old boat and sail it through the horizon on a budget requires being able to perform a thorough analysis of the weak points of “the old lady”, and perform satisfactory upgrades with little or none adult supervision. Funny enough “How-to-Do-It-Yourself” articles are the ones I seek with a certain continuity online, to find inspirations about designs and building techniques, so I may fall out of the group of representative readers of this blog according to my idealistic audience.

These are some of the reasons why I find very difficult to write about boat projects and improvements but despite of that not much else is happening in my life and so I would either shut up (possible) or keep telling the story of the countless jobs that are going on inside and on Tranquility.

Selecting few specific jobs and turning them into a narration is becoming an usual activiy, so hopefull it will be less and less hard. It turns out it’s also a good way to keep track of how long these project are taking, which is very long. As soon as one is finished it has a slingshot effect to the next one and helps bringing enthusiasm to my work and to the overall goal, so I would be happy to see more and more of these posts appearing on the blog.

Lately the speed of work increased and people at the dock are noticing Tranquility changing face and stops for few words about what’s next and where are we going to take the boat (well where she is going to take us…). Kate also had some time to dedicate to Tranquility and this was another huge help to the overall project. She has a great ability for planning and in just one hour spent in the garden with a calendar in her hand we enlighted the next three weeks projects and tasks down to plankton size. With this new clarity it seems we have a possible deck painting date on mid November, and few days when we will be actually both working on Tranquility.

Drainage channels for watertight cockpit locker

During our Atlantic Ocean offshore passage and in other legs of Tranquility’s voyage from New Bedford to Brunswick rain and occasional crashing waves found their way into the cockpit locker and sloshed into the bilge. After coming to a rest on the Georgia Coast and contemplating the idea of more offshore sailing in the near future we wanted to make sure that we are not taking in water from this or other openings on the boat.

Tranquility has a cockpit locker on port side accessible through the cockpit seat via a very heavy door. The starboard side has no opening as a sleeping quarter bunk lies underneath it. None of these setups were original from the builder: the whole port quarter side was modified by one of the previous owners to fit the locker, which is divided from the interior by a bulkhead that would host the chart table on the cabin side. On starboard side, somebody did the opposite, fitting a bunk where it used to be a cockpit locker. These and other amenities are some of the surprises you could find when you buy a fifty years old sailboat.

Unfortunately for us the cockpit locker/chart table modification was very poorly done and gave us a lot of headache when it was time to improve and eventually redesign the area. The separating bulkhead wasn’t even tabbed (permanently fiberglassed) to the hull and allowed the locker to drain straight into the bilge soaking everything was lying in its path. The chart table would make claustrophobic a 5 years old kid with the resuslt of being perfectly unuseful on board. Finally the cockpit locker door was resting on a very sketchy support that was conceived with the idea of draining extra water sipping through the door sides, but that in fact was a simply terrible half-finished solution that failed completely in its purpose.

Earlier on the projects timeline I adressed the bulkhead problem tabbing it to the hull and making the entire locker a watertight section of our ship. Not communicating anymore with other parts of the boat, the locker will contribute to the buoyancy of the vessel in case water finds its way into the boat. Last spring I also rebuilt the chart table / nav station with the idea of increasing storage and housing the battery bank for our electric motor.

The Lousy cockpit locker drainage system — The lousy cockpit locker drainage system and a pathetic attempt to fix it

A detail of the draining channel as found on Tranquility.

The drainage channel we found on Tranquility was one of our least favorite part of the boat but it was also something we couldn’t handle during our first refit in New England, so we just tried timidly to improve it along the way when the real only possible way to fix it was to tear it apart and redo it from scratch. Finally after spending a lot of time designing ideas and procrastinating any concrete action in favor of other projects, I finally started to stare at the problem directly. At the beginning I was in favor of epoxy coated plywood construction, but then my friend Fernando talked me more and more into trying with fiberglass construction. Ultimately fiberglass is for life! After a lot of time spent in woodworking projects for the companionway I figured it was healthy to switch paradigm and tackle a messy fiberglass project. I think I am a messy enough person for such a task.

**Mold construction for Fiberglass channels**

After looking at examples of drainage channel systems on other boats I finally came out with a design and I decided for angled lateral channel that will allow drainage even when the boat is heeled. Building the molds for the fiberglass construction wasn’t hard at all as I had some rounded corner molding in my woodpile that happened to be just perfect for the job. Two pieces side by side would form a round shaped channel about one inch and a half wide. I successfully mounted them on two pieces of 3/4 of a inch thick PVC or Plywood screwed together and taped with adhesive packaging tape (cheap and easy to use). Epoxy won’t stick to plastic so if you cover anything with packaging tape or any other plastic wrap it will released the impregnated fiberglass once cured.

Fiberglas molds ready for laminate — **Fiberglass molds ready for laminate**

Fiberglass channel — **Out of the mold fiberglass channel**

I then laminated fiberglass cloth and mat onto the molds forming a slightly bigger shape than the desired part. Once the epoxy cured I popped them out of the mold and shaped them to the final measurements using an angle grinder with a cutting disk, before final sanding and cleaning. Some of the channels reminded me of delicious tacos but I restrained myself from eating them.

Fiberglass components of the drainage channel — **Components of the drainage channel sanded and cleaned**

Together with the three channels I laminated some 90 degrees shaped pieces that helped to fit the parts to the deck for final assembly. Screws held the structure in place while thickened epoxy cured overnight. The following day I removed the screws and engaged a grinding match in the confined space of the locker, making sure to wear all the possible protective clothing and gear for this miserable job. After clean up of both my persona and the locker I proceeded challenging the law of gravity with the messy job of fiberglassing the structure to the deck alternating several layers of fiberglass mat (for waterproofing) and cloth (for structure), and trying my best to avoid the epoxy resin dripping from the overhead.

**Screws hold the channels in place while epoxy cures**

All the parts are dry-fit before being fiberglassed in place — **All the parts are dry-fit before being fiberglassed**

With this last upside down job accomplished it was time to fit a lip that will give enough surface for a gasket to make a watertight seal. I had some long and thin pieces of teak lying around on Tranquility (what’s not on Tranquility?) and so I decided to epoxy and fiberglass them around the internal perimeter of the locker. To have a perfect seal with the overlying door I used again thickened epoxy placed on top of the lip. This time I let the law of gravity work for me placing the original lid on top and protecting it with with packaging tape (my new best friend). In this way the still soft thicked epoxy adheres to the door contour forming an even surface of contact after the extra material squeezes out.

The lip for the channel is made with teak strips glassed in place — **The lip for the channel is made with teak strips glassed in**

**Lip is epoxy fitted and then laminated with fiberglass**

Two half inch sized holes at the lower end of the inboard channels drain the water into the cockpit and then in the ocean through the cockpit scuppers. Next, in this multi-stage multi-level project a whole operation of fairing and sanding will culminate with the paintjob soon to happen on the entire deck. For now I am glad enough I can leave the boat under the rain without having to empty a swamped locker and in perspective I feel confident that less water will find its way in the boat during blue water sailing and foul weather.

Restoring an old companionway: the sea hood

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | October 7, 2015 | Comments 22 comments

The sea hood is a curious feature on the deck of a sailboat. You can picture it as the shell of a turtle and the sliding hatch as its head, coming in and out. When open the hatch slides underneath the sea hood, when closed it comes all the way out.

The sea hood covers and protects the opening between the cabin top and the hatch deflecting waves that otherwise will put the hatch under siege making it a very good feature for a blue water boat. Water is so good in finding its way into things that trying to stop it requires the help of multiple agents, and here the sea hood comes into the game.

On Tranquility, our 50 years old Columbia 29 mki, the sea hood is built in solid teak, like the rest of the companionway. Functioning as partial beams the longitudinal elements of the structure strengthen the deck, which on Tranquility is fiberglass laminate with no core, and so it’s a bit springy. Beside being bulky heavy and complex, a fully restored watertight seahood contributes to the sturdiness of a boat.

The project steps are very similar to the ones I described in the sliding hatch post, with the difference that I had to work on the deck instead this time.

At first I worked caulking all the gaps around the sea hood, using Teak Decking Systems product. The effort has the objective to avoid that water running on deck would sip underneath the wood.

After that I proceeded rebuilding the plywood support. Again, I used 1/4 inch plywood because the sea hood has a curve and thicker plywood won’t allow to bend as easily. To reach the desired thickness and strenght I laminated two pieces one on top of the other.

First plywood board installed and ready for laminating. This time I had to use small screws to set the plywood to the frame as there was no way to use clamps. The second plywood board goes on top of it and it’s coated with at least two coats of clear epoxy resin.

To save some expensive caulking and to make the job easier I routed 1/8 inch slot into the teak strips with a table router I borrowed from Fernando. Fernando is a good friend of mine and a talented guitar maker, check out his work on his website.

I had to shuffle around the teak strips to find the best match. For how hard I tried to get the most precise fit, the curved surface put some challenges to this job.

New Teak installed and set in place with epoxy resin and thickener

Such an asymmetrical shape required custom ideas to cajole the pieces into shape. In this case some hevy weight and flexible plywood strips did the job.

I proceeded filling the slots using the same caulk product. After taping the wood to make an easier clean-up, I used a cheap caulking gun (still on a budget…) to fill the slots. Following with a spatula I pressed the caulk hard down into the slots working two strips at the time and removing the tape along with the progress.

A final sanding to remove excess caulk left a smooth surface. I then washed the teak thoroughly with a solution of water (75%) and bleach (25%) plus a couple of tablespoon of Sodium Triphosphate and finally applied three coats of Semco Teck Sealer.

I am glad another piece of the companionway is completed. It’s amazing how complicated it is. With components sliding into each others and pieces that have to be reinstalled in the correct sequence it resembles a puzzle game and I am very glad there are less and less pieces to get to the final picture.

Seek and Destroy

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | March 25, 2015 | Comments 13 comments

Mid March may not be the best time to start thinking about 2015 resolutions. Getting through the first quarter of the year however helps to skim the unreasonable off the cauldron of expectations. The recent approval of my permanent resident status (Green Card) gives us more oxygen and several degrees of freedom to think about the next moves, and what is going to be with our lives. So with this renewed spirit one should think that now the way is all downhill (or downwind). Well, that’s not exactly the case.

First we have to ask ourselves one question: are we ready to resume cruising? Sadly the answer is no, and even if it’s unreal to think that one day Tranquility will be in perfect shape, with every detail addressed and we will be full “ready”, loaded with enough cash to sustain the costs of cruising, we have to be honest and admit that the day we are cutting dock lines and sail away is not imminent.

We were contemplating a summer cruise of New England shores, the same shores that saw us on the first chapter of our endeavor. The idea was to leave Coastal Georgia in May-June and head north to savor the wonderful summer in New England. That area had been my home for two summers, the first one as professional crew on Superyachts, and the second as a boat owner who was assembling his boat to go cruising. In neither case I had the option to freely roam the coves and anchorages and to explore historical and naturalistic points of interest, as I was alway “on duty”. It seems that this desire has to wait a little longer.

But why this is not possible next summer? Well something happened while we were wintering in Brunswick, waiting for the green light of the Green Card. And that something was me. I started to take apart Tranquility even more than I did during the previous months. One piece leads to another, and nearly every single component of the deck has been removed. The boom lays down on the deck, the electric motor and batteries hauled out, part of navigation station ripped off. Kate and I observed this process happening with fear and awe, as spectators of an ineluctable fate.

There no such a thing like a small or partial refit. Tranquility was in shape enough to sail the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, and she did a good job in protecting us from the severe winter but yet she is not as we imagine her. There is a real Tranquility and a dream one, and the reason why we are investing more time and money is because this two Tranquilities are still too far apart from each other. To bridge that gap the extent of the refit must be enlarged.

It is extremely difficult for someone doing their first refit to accurately assess the time, expenses and details of preparing a boat for a voyage. I did other refits on different boats, and no matter the budget and the expertise involved it seems that project management and boat refits cannot go hand in hand. The process is pretty much the same: I start with a little improvement, like re-grouping the batteries in a more rational position and then I have to modify the existing navigation station to host the batteries, remove the existing electrical system, build new floor, and so on… For some reason this path lead to the replacement of the existing ladder and the creation of new and bigger counter space. Little by little every out of date part of the boat is going to be replaced or repaired or refurbished.

We have to say that Brunswick is definetely a good place for refitting your boat all year around. Almost too good as departure keep being postponed.

Brunswick, where the hell is that?

We initially moved to Brunswick when James Baldwin offered me an apprentship after visiting us on Tranquility. We were transiting in Jekyll Island, getting ready to land in Florida and find us a good spot to make some money and improve the boat. We never make it further than St.Mary’s on the State Border. We decided instead to give James and Brunswick a chance. After one year we are still here and this must mean that Brunswick is not a bad place at all.

Even if sometimes I feel like we ran aground in the marshes of Glynn, it’s remarkable how many good things happened to us here. We had been introduced to the South, with its culinary specialties (see Oyster Roast and Low Country Boil) and the proverbial courtesy warm hospitality of the population. Soon enough we friended some special people, keen souls who are rooted here or following a similar pat, ran aground. Kate is already a notable person in the community and I personally learned a lot working side by side with James Baldwin, having helped him in many of his sailboat refits.

Tranquility is not ready also because my standards have risen and seeing what James did on other boats changed the idea of what is possible and impossible in terms of boat customization. While we were summering and wintering here few important things had happened. Kate and I got married in very hot day in Woodbine, GA. Subsequently I applied for a Green Card which was approved just recently. The Green Card process itself was very demanding and time consuming, kind of a part time job. No wonder it was a very busy time here in Georgia!

Anyway, we can’t afford to live in a perpetual dream of boat perfection. Wether Tranquility will be closer to perfection or not, winter is coming, this time with some tropical weather and crystal clear waters waiting for us. The time of the distruction must end… just let me deal with a couple little more things that I don’t like…

Tranquility turns 50!

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | February 7, 2015 | Comments 8 comments

Sparkman & Stephens Columbia 29 Tranquility

It’s been a while since the last time I posted about Tranquility. We have been sucked into different activities and duties on land, and even though projects were constantly happening on our boat, the engagement was not at the top levels. Now that we are facing a renovate wave of passion for our little craft, the levels of commitment and project management are springing back up. We may be able to resume cruising soon and this is what brings fresh to strong breeze to our endeavour, but we don’t want to say it too loud because like every sailor we are a bit superstitious.

The big event is that Tranquility turned 50 years old. Built in 1965 in Portsmouth, VA she is not immune to the inexorable effect of time passing and all our effort goes in the direction of making her a safe and pretty little boat. All across the world thousands of old boats sit abandoned in various stages of neglect, sometimes they are not even as old as Tranquility is. When we found her in a random yard of the South Coast of Massachussets two years ago, she was asking for help. Paul, the guy who sold us the boat, had a great vision for her and started a complete refit after she had been neglected for a few years. He eventually had to give up due to other projects happening in his life and put her for sale. We caught the ball.

Tranquility is the boat we fell in love with, she makes our heart sing and tickle our fancy when we imagine her at anchor in a quiet cove, floating over turquoise water. She is also the boat we could afford to buy, but it’s fair to say that she has a lot of competitors for that price range. Both Kate and I were hooked the first time we saw her. Now that she is undoubtely the boat we own, we are trying to bring the best out of her, with our limitation of budget and knowledge.

In the past 50 years boat design and technology made great stride, as innovation never stops. Boat shows brings every year new shiny models with the latest improvements onboard. Even ten years old boats become quickly obsolete as bulding materials, safety gear and electronic components change every month, and the great circus of progress will make that boat turn in a less desiderable dream. Eventually will come the time when an expert will state that a boat has done her time and she’s not worthy to upkeep, as the price to bring her to current standards would exceed the convenience of purchase a new model. It happens with all our technology and goods: today nobody thinks it’s worthy to fix a pair of shoes, it’s easier to buy a new pair.

Why would somebody invest so much energy and money in an old boat? There is no pragmatism when it comes to sailing, at any level, and so boat restoration evades the usual categories of economical profit. Some people may think that you could recoup what you put in monetarily once you sell an old classic design in shipshape Bristol fashion. But this is just a mirage as boats have a tendency in not holding their value and they require expensive components and supplies to be kept in good shape. It doens’t matter how good is the boat. Millionaires know it too. Futuristic newly built Luxury Yachts depreciate very quickly too and chartering sometimes don’t even cover the running costs. For the haves, it is often a way to avoid taxation rather than a profitable business.

Luckily human discovered sailing thousands of years ago, and for how refined this art had become its basics are founded on simple principles. Older boat can still bring the emotions of a brand new model, for a fraction of the cost, plus an old boat can still benefit from newest improvement and accessories. With sufficient thought and effort, you will end up with a boat that satisfy your eyes and can be fitted to your requirements better than any new production could. This is the way we decided to take: starting with a bare-strip hull to reconfigure the boat as we prefer.

After coming down the East Coast with a partially complete boat we have learned two things. The first is that is surprising how little you need to enjoy cruising. The trip was in fact enjoyable and safe, even if some parts were installed along the way and others had never really been. The second is there are very important issues you want to address in order to fully enjoy your time. Trying on Tranquility we discovered what worked and what didn’t, what we liked and disliked, and that helped us establish priorities in our project list. In the next weeks we are going to share some of these improvements, hoping that posting them publicly will help our legs keep pace with our desires.

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