Good Luck and Elbow Grease

Tony Polizzi introduces a new friend to boat ownership

  I first met Greg, Molly and their daughter Megan in the spring of nineteen ninety nine. They had become regulars at my wife’s café and since their daughter Megan was the same age as our oldest daughter we soon got together to let the kids play. The two three-year-old girls played well together and we parents enjoyed the adult coadult conversation. Greg had a life long dream to own his own small sail boat, which meant we were both afflicted with “boat-itis,” we quickly compared lists of small cruisers we have long admired. Of course the little Lapworth 24 Dove that was made famous by Robin Lee Grahm was on both lists as well as Pearsons Triton, Binghams Flicka and the 22' Alberg Sea Sprite. Knowing what it is like to want to sail I invited Greg to sail with me any Wednesday ,as I could use the crew for the evening evening PHRF racing I enjoy.

In passing I had mentioned that although we loved our current boat we realized that a larger boat would be more comfortable. Greg said that he had heard about a boat that might be just what we were looking for, and that he would like me to take a look at it. I suggested that we sail to mystery bay and have a look. I had no intention of trying to buy another boat while I currently had one, but I reco but I recognized a good excuse to combine sailing and looking at boats. So I bought a gallon of porter from our local brewery, we left the kids with our wives and set out on the hour voyage across Port Townsend bay in search of a boat I had no intentions of buying -even if it were free.

As we sailed Greg explained that in fact he was interested in this little vessel for himself, and wanted my opinion on her value and suitability. What he did not realize wrealize was that I was going to do that any how, no matter what boat he bought or thought about buying, not only that but so were a bunch of strangers he had not met yet. Issuing forth opinions about boats is fundamental and comes naturally to all sailors. I explained this to Greg and told him about my mentors way of summing up boats. I once asked the old salt about a Cal, he replied, calmly at first “There are boats” now sounding like Starbuck himself “and then, THAR BE BOATS, and THAR BE a Boat!” pointing to ting to the now forever honored Cal. I understood very clearly from this that the sea judges a boat, not people standing on the dock.

I now knew that the vessel we were going to look at was a Vivacity. Greg had obtained a picture of her with a description. She was built in nineteen seventy four to comply with the micro offshore racing cruising rule, MORC for short. I knew the boat Sopranino was the great granddaddy of this rule and that the Vivacity wasacity was built to Lloyds standards in England. At least we would be looking at a boat with good genes.

As we ghosted through the anchorage, we found her. Furling our sails we glided up to her and rafted. The first thing I noticed was a strange bow down list. As we stepped aboard into the cockpit we noticed that she was dirty but appeared to be in good order. All running rigging was shot, but the standing looked serviceable. The sails had been removed anemoved and stowed, another good sign. The interior was clean and smelled sweet. It now came down to the Volvo M2B. If it ran, it was a bonus. It did and sounded strong. I was shocked at the amount of usable space achieved in the accommodation without destroying the seaworthy look of her. It was about then we were hailed back to earth by a voice yelling. “If that boat drags down on me I’m going to sink’er!” Back up on deck it is clear why the boat had a bow down list, she was floating her mooring. Quickly I lept to my boat, a pull and a start of the outboard and the four of us were off and out to deeper water. Greg now mentions that the boat comes with two anchors, and that I will get to help him untangle them from the Chevy big block engine encased in concrete that was doing the best it could as a mooring. I tell him I knew this was going to be an adventure, and that as I now hold a salvage claim on his boat, that makes them my anchors rapped around a motor, and he can help me untangle them!

We settled all the anchors and motors to the bottom, left the Vivacity and headed home. Greg asked me about her price and did I think it was fair. I told him all I knew about buying a good old boat. First, talk to the owner in person, hold a darling child in your arms with one hand, and have a check made out for half the asking price in the other. It worked. The guy even threw in a trailer and a tender. It’s amazing how seasoned horse traders will melt when confronted with thewith the honest prospect of making a little girl and her boat-obsessed dad happy. Now it was time for the elbow grease.

The little sloop’s name was Espejo(ez-pay-oh). This stumped both of us until a Spanish dictionary was consulted and we found it to mean looking glass. We agreed that it got points for both creativity and not being a cute name. It even sounded a little gritty, so Espejo it is.

The amount of accumulated marine growth was impressive. There was a limpet the size of both your fists firmly attached to one of the three blades of the propeller. With a grin I suggest he leave it, give it a name and declare it the boat’s mascot. Greg thought it was cruel to domesticate wild native species, so the tenacious little bug was pried off and released back into the wilds of Puget Sound with an undignified splash. With bottom washed down and hull exposed it was clear there were no blre no blisters. It was here that I left Greg to his own doing.

It was not long before I dropped in on Greg and Espejo to see how it was going. Greg told me that due to time constraints he had gotten a bid from the yard on fairing his ballast keel and painting the bottom. He wanted to know if I thought twenty-five hundred was too much. I gasped and asked if they meanthey meant dollars? He said they could have it done inside two weeks. I explained to Greg that usually one does not spend two thirds of the purchase price of a given vessel on a bottom job. Greg had been told by a friend who had spent three months fairing the keel of his Santana 26 that it was impossible to do a good job in less than about a month ,and that Neptune himself would forever frown upon the little sloop if he spent any less. I pointed out that there are all kinds of people out there with lots of different Ideas. Also thaAlso that I had screeched by that very same Santana, flying a mast-headed spinnaker, while I was enjoying nachos and a cold beer, in a Wednesday evening PHRF race aboard my full keel, heavy displacement, 22 ft. sloop. I recommended that if he wanted to increase Espejo performance it would be a hell of a lot faster and cheaper to remove the huge three bladed prop Espejo would be dragging behind her like a five-gallon bucket on a rope. I told him I would do it for 1999.00$ inside a week. The point found its intended mark.

NT>

A good sanding and a gallon and a half of premium sloughing bottom paint later she was starting to look loved. Greg found an unusual use for some industrial hospital bath tub cleaner. It seems the stuff was designed to clean fiber glass tubs in hospitals. It didn’t say you couldn’t use it on boats and what do you know it wornow it worked great. I had buffed a lot of hulls while working my way through grad school and swore by “finesse it” a very mild buffing compound produced by three M and. this stuff was better.

 With a gleaming hull, new cove strip and a laser-cut vinyl name in place she looked good. In this condition her original asking price seemed reasonable. The crowning touch was the fresh green paint on the rubbing strake next to the freshly oiledeshly oiled mahogany rub rail. The rail had been sanded down to fresh wood and had Deks Ole meticulously applied. The oiled mahogany set the whole boat off.

As she was carried by the travel lift our two families stood by to watch as the happy little sloop tooke sloop took to the water. Greg stood proudly on deck as we all smiled. I thought to my self that this is what a lot of boating is really all about, a sense of acomplishment earned from dedicated ownership. As my great-grandmother said to me upon graduating from college, “It’s not how much you have, It’s what you do with what you have.”

Greg smoothly pulled Espejo into her slip directly in front of mine. I handed him two new shiny fenders as a gift. “ Please put these on the back of your boat so she won't scratch mine if she gets away from you.” He handed me a beer “to Espejo.”. It was truly gratifying to hear a little girl ask us if we all wanted to go one her boat. St> boat. Start em young I always say!

 

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