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Ahoy,

It rained today, a lot. In fact, the last couple of weeks we have had a lot of rain, and for that we are thankful. Rain, however, means no boatwork, at least for someone like me whose boat is truly in the open. (I am a purist. When BYYB means Back Yard Yacht Builder, I take that literally. No sir, no garage for me (as if we had a garage.) I have built my boat in the open weather.)

In the meantime, however, since boatbuilding is temporarily out of the question, I decided to work on some doors for a companion. No, I do not mean companionway doors. I mean some French doors for Miss Pat, and another pair for our daughter, Miss Rachel.

I went to an industrial lumberyard as always, expecting to pick up the needed stock and be on my way. It was not to be. The lumberyard had no bananas. I had to search elsewhere, and at last, I found some 8/4 African mahogany. In no time, my truck was loaded down, and I was on my way in the pouring rain.

I got a good buy on the lumber— a little over $500.00 for what will be 4 mahogany doors is not bad. My billfold is a little thinner now. I just wish I were. Miss Pat and I had looked at some doors at HomeDepot, doors that were part fir, and maybe part plastic. The asking price was $2,500, so I decided not to ask any further.

The horizontal and vertical muntins on the HomeDepot doors looked less than terrible. We just thought we could do better, especially with the muntins, I mean— why do you want a French door with thin plastic muntins that poorly fit the door frame? I can make muntins that fit just as poorly, have mahogany doors, and pay much, much less.

I set about working on the stock. I had bought some 100 board feet. First, we needed to make the stiles. Because of their length, the stiles would, perhaps, be the most difficult part of the project. Everything had to be straight, absolutely straight and flat. I used the jointer, I used the planer, I used the jointer, I used the planer. When all else failed, I used a handplane. At last, we had stiles that would soon by in style, and the stiles were flat, true, and straight. (My billfold was a little flat by now as well.)

In this photo, maybe you can make out some of the rough stock and perhaps some of the stock we had milled as well. (Everything was rough when we bought the mahogany, very rough.)



All this wood may not look like much. Certainly, the amount of work needed to mill the stock is deceptive, ending up with just 8 boards. We rather like to call them stiles, though. Even so, here is another photo of what the lumber looked like, having been placed in the back of my truck—



As I came home, Miss Pat was serving dinner, and that was something I did not want to miss out on. So, I abandoned my mahogany stock and went nervously inside, fearing that some knowledgeable soul might see the mahogany, and know that the wood was mahogany, and scamper away with my treasure. Fortunately, most people just saw a wood pile.

I set a few planks down on the tablesaw, planks which would become the stiles for French doors, and stepped back. The beauty of the wood emerged. The stiles looked straight and looked good.



Now, if I can just make the French doors look as good as the wood . . . That's the next challenge. One of these afternoons, the rain will stop, and I will be able to work on the boat again. Such as it is. Such as it was today, and such it will be tomorrow.

That's the way life goes doesn't it Jim? A little rain is good, especially where you are. We had snow yesterday, about 4 inches worth and the temperature dropped considerably. It was only 3 this morning but it will get up to 50 later on in the day. A very unstable time of year but like you say, we really need the moisture. Good luck with your project. I know they're going to be beautiful and your companion will love them.

Ahoy,

Steve, thanks for the nice comments— reflective and pensive. Anyone who can write cowboy poetry and put the poetry to music has to have insight on this thing we call life and living.

It continued to rain this week, and the temperature at times was rather low. Even so, I was able to do some work on the boat, at least, in a minor way. We're waiting on the polysulfide (at least, that's what I think I ordered from Jamestown Distributors.) Paul Riccelli had mention some 3M adhesives, and I may have ordered those, but if my memory is accurate, I think we finally decided to go with polysulfide. Thanks, Paul.

In the meantime, though, I was able to work on our French doors. Indeed, I began cutting and milling the rails. The stack of wood may not look like much right now, but somewhere in there are four mahogany doors.



Sometimes as we build these boats we forget the reason we build them. Several have asked me, "Why don't you just finish your boat right away, and sail some?" I suppose I could, but my desire to sail and build a boat with my own hands are not the only reasons I undertook this project.

For us, it's about family. Let me explain, if I can. Last Saturday our daughter celebrated her 40 birthday. (I guess she won't care me telling you her age.) Her good husband planned a surprise party for her and invited some of their friends, which in itself was a surprise to us, I mean that they have friends, actually have friends.

During all the excitement, I was able to take a few candid shots. Here is one of mother and daughter. The dog, of course, is none other than the famous and fearless sea dog, Sheba.



This next photo is of the woman who is the love of my life, one of the reasons I decided to build a boat in the first place. As I look at her face, I think I can detect a look that only a mother can have. Her face to me is radiant. I married her for her heart and her kind look.



Both of our girls love cooking. It was only fitting that our present to our daughter was a cast-iron dutch oven. She was pleased, and so were we.



Miss Pat and Sheba looked fondly on as friends and family shared a snapshot of life. Children played volleyball in the yard; men stood around a grill, talking about things that men talk about; women sat about in chairs, talking about their children and the moment of the day.



Just a few months ago, Sheba was just a small puppy. She still is small, less than 5 pounds. Just a few years ago, Stephanie was a small girl. Life passes us quickly. The good Book says that life is faster than a weaver's shuttle, and I suppose it is. We're well into living— Miss Pat and I— and I am well into building a dream, a boat made of wood and made with my own hands.

What a great looking Family Jim,That is one fearsome Sea dog, I think the Sharks will flee in fear with one look at Sheba.
I gotta say I love the birthday hat.
Brian.

A little known fact: sharks just can't stand the feeling of hair between their teeth, so Sheba girl is likely less appetizing, then say a healthy chunk of well seasoned adult male human, frolicking his domain into a froth, which is enough to piss off the mildest mannered shark and possibly the longest run on sentence in history.