It’s easy to lose sight of what it means
Issue 91 : Jul/Aug 2013
We all know what a boat is and we can probably arrive at some definition of “old” without too much difficulty, but what exactly puts the “good” in a good old boat? It is, I think, a question worth pondering.
Does good refer to the quality of the construction? One could certainly argue that boats built in the early days of fiberglass construction — those production sailboats built in the 1960s and ’70s by Pearson and Cal and Allied — are superior to the ones built today. But if that is the claim, what do we do about some of the old Irwins, Coronados, or Lancers?
Perhaps the criterion is beauty. There can be little question that earlier boat designers gave more weight to sweet lines than their successors do today. Harbors that used to be filled with graceful boats are today crowded with floating apartments. If you want a pretty boat, modern offerings may indeed leave you dissatisfied.
I take no issue with either of these definitions. I certainly appreciate craftsmanship, particularly when land is miles away. I am also drawn to the art of a lovely sailboat. But I think what puts the generic “good” in a good old boat is that the boat does well the primary thing it was designed to do.
However, individually we are not particularly concerned with the generic. What we want is a boat that does well the thing we most want it to do. Maybe that is to provide maximum liveaboard comfort, in which case a double-wide on pontoons might earn a good rating. If it is to convey an impression of affluence, size becomes the gauge. Perhaps the impression you want to make is discriminating taste or your qualifications as a seaman. Maybe a good boat for you is one that regularly crosses the finish line first. Perhaps the thing you want is a palette to let you display your own craftsmanship. Or just practice it. Maybe what you seek is simply a private refuge or solely the magic of being harnessed to the wind.
For me, the thing I most want from my sailboat is an expanded horizon. When I first became interested in sailboats, it was because of the discovery of ordinary people living what seemed to me extraordinary lives, sailing at will to faraway locales. The concept of traveling and lodging for free seemed to put the whole globe in reach. I became enamored with the vision of myself sipping ouzo on a Greek quay or espresso at a sidewalk café in Tahiti. The only boats I had any real interest in had to be capable of taking me there.
I found such a boat, whose owner had a different dream. The boat I chose actually satisfied all three definitions of good. After 44 years of unfailing service, her construction quality has proven to be above reproach. More often than not, she can lay legitimate claim to being the prettiest boat in the harbor (sadly, against an ever-dwindling number of challengers). But by far the best thing about her is that I am composing these lines sitting at a French sidewalk café. It is in Martinique rather than Tahiti, but that’s splitting hairs. It has been more than a decade since our good old boat has swung to her “home” mooring.
With this issue, Good Old Boat completes 15 years of publication: 15 years of good advice, illuminating particulars, and gee-whiz ingenuity applicable to your good old boat and mine. I know of no magazine that serves its readership better, and for that we owe the editors and contributors a hearty thank-you. But here there be dragons, so this is a cautionary tale.
So many opportunities for “improvement” make it easy to get so caught up in making your old boat better that you lose sight of what made it good. The clock is always ticking on plans and dreams. Particularly on the dream of sailing away, time can run out while you do just a bit more shopping, sanding, or slathering.
A sailboat is the closest thing to a magic carpet that I know. Where it can take you is limited only by lack of imagination and/or timidity. Don’t sacrifice the magic to the mundane. They sell varnish in Tahiti.
Don Casey became the authority on boat fix-it projects with the publication in 1991 of This Old Boat and is the author of several other books. He and his wife, Olga, have been cruising aboard their 1969 Allied Seawind since 2002.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
