The fabric is not worn, but it has long faded from fashion
Issue 88 : Jan/Feb 2013
Near as we can figure, Mystic began her life in 1975 in a Cuthbertson and Cassian boatyard in Niagara on the Lake, Ontario. We believe she was launched in 1976, which leaves us with somewhat mixed opinions regarding her year of manufacture.
Whether she is 37 years old (or is it 38?) is not terribly important. We’ve upgraded or replaced nearly everything aboard. Some things, such as sails and ropes, have been replaced many times.
This leads me to occasionally cast a discerning eye to the very dated upholstery in her cabin. Could it really be nearly 40 years old? Everyone who sees it is quick to point out that it’s “so ’70s.” The fabric colors do take one right back to the days of avocado and harvest gold kitchen appliances. The plaid is an olive and gold and brown and white tweed. There’s a nod to Mystic’s Pacific blue hull with the inclusion of navy and a blue similar to the color of the hull.
I can sew. We’ve considered an interior update several times, but — as with many boat projects — one thing will clearly lead to another and we retreat from the prospect in horror. Tear the cabin apart or sail? Sail or tear the cabin apart? The correct response is obvious.
Let’s see. The port dinette arrangement has six cushions when it’s made up as a bunk. Since two of those cushions spend their time in the V-berth, the two giant V-berth cushions will need to match too. Did I mention the little filler cushion that fills up the V in the V-berth? We haven’t used it in years, but shouldn’t we just cover it while we’re at it in case we do need it someday?
Another drawback on the port side is that the two upright cushions are screwed to bulkheads. We’d have to unscrew them to re-cover them. That project would probably go rather easily, although those “probably easy” tasks are the sneaky ones that play “gotcha” in the end. It appears to be a simple matter of stretching the fabric and stapling it in place. But I have no idea how C&C got those intricate vertical grooves in the back cushions. Even my monster Sailrite machine won’t sew through a combination of fabric and 2-inch cushion. That unknown gives the project an intimidating overtone.
Then there’s the settee on the starboard side. That has a pull-out arrangement that makes a bench seat into a narrow berth and a drop-down back that hides storage cubbies. Two things here . . . The first question is how to take that drop-down panel off the boat in order to disassemble it and replace the fabric attached to it. Secondly, that narrow bunk really needs a thicker cushion to make it comfortable for sleeping. But the 3-inch cushion that’s there cannot be replaced by a 4-inch cushion. Or a 3 1/2-inch cushion. Or even a 3 1/4-inch cushion. Since the bunk shelf (or would you call that a drawer?) must be able to slide underneath those storage cubbies behind the seat, it is already as thick as it can be. Period. Unless we get creative in the cabin. With the Sawzall. The chief carpenter recoils at that thought.
Once again, I turn away from what could be a time-consuming and very expensive, but clearly very gratifying, cabin update for our baby. In its 38 years, the fabric has never been stained, ripped, mildewed, or damaged in any way. It looks as good as it did in 1976 (or should I say 1975?). Could I come up with a fabric even half as robust to replace it?
Meanwhile, Jerry — in the hope of delaying the inevitable — keeps reminding me that he likes the color of our cushion fabric. Since he’s partially colorblind, I find his reassurances and motivations highly suspect. I figure the best solution is to wait a few more decades until this fabric comes back into vogue. Besides, I’m beginning to convince myself that the combination of avocado, harvest gold, and blue is really very attractive.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
