A Night to Remember

Actually, it was a day to remember, but as the man said, "It's 5 o'clock somewhere," so I feel a bit of poetic license in titling this post is permissible. And after all, precisely on the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the RMS Titanic, a Oughtred Grey Seal named Lagniappe went keel down in a much less dramatic, and far more auspicious manner.

Yes, we are right side up at last.  That state was achieved not totally without adventure, but happily without damage to the boat and thankfully without injury to the crew.  The adventure occurred mostly during what I am now calling Boat Flipping 1.0.  After my April Fool's Day post, and armed with sage advise on improving my structure from Down Under co-conspirator Melbourne Andrew, I decided that turning a boat was no big deal.  All a man needed was his wits, his truck, a block and tackle, some jacks and levers, and the help of a good woman.   I had all those things plus a dog, to boot.


I fastened a single block and tackle to an eyebolt amidships attached to a pair of 2x4s running parallel to the keel.  The top end was hooked to a sling about 15 feet up the trunk of my noble Norway Spruce.  The bitter end was tied to the front end towing hook of my Toyota Tacoma.  I put  her in 4WD, and began backing up, and voila! the boat began to lift.  Unfortunately, about 45 degrees into the lift, I noticed that the pair of planks through which my eyebolt was fastened were beginning to distort alarmingly.

Uh Oh!  Not what I wanted to see.

Opting for prudence, I lowered her back to earth and lived to fight another day.


That "other day" was yesterday -- Boat Flipping 2.0.  I assembled a crew of capable guys this time.  I was fortunate to be able to enlist Jeff, a boatbuilder at the Independence Seaport Museum's Workshop on the Water, who has built, moved, and flipped many, many wooden boats in his day.  Jeff, by the way, also builds very cool playhouse type wooden boats for kids.  He has a bunch of them installed at Mystic Seaport, and elsewhere.  I'm sure he won't mind if I note that his business website is jharold.com.  


I also had the able assistance of Mike, a member of our local chapter of TSCA, the Traditional Small Craft Association, who happens to live in my town.  Mike is the proud builder, owner, and sailor of a Mellonseed skiff, a traditional and very pretty New Jersey design.


My son Andrew was recruited with the enticement of Sunday night dinner, a chance to do his laundry, and the very real potential for disaster.


Finally, we had the documentary skills of my wife, Joan.  We wanted to make sure that in the event of a dry land re-enactment of the original Night to Remember, there would be photographic evidence every step of the way.

Jeff (with cap) and me (with beard) surveying the setup.

The first step was replacing the single lift point on the starboard (tree-side) with a bridle attached between the two cradle rollers on the port side.  This gave us better control, and reduced the stress on the cradle braces.  The bridle was hooked to the 3 sheave block and tackle setup, on the tree.  The bitter end was, once again, tied to the truck.

Andrew, wisely standing back as the hull begins to lift.

Every foot or so of the lift, we stopped lifting and pushed the hull closer to the tree, using plywood sheets to skid better.

Jeff is contemplating, and Mike is up the tree keeping the upper block square to the truck.

Mike, Jeff, and Andrew as the hull reaches the 90 degree point. I was safe in the truck.

At 90 degrees, we stopped and repositioned our rigging.  We had set another block and tackle inside the hull, fastened by strap to the tree about 4 feet up, and to the centerboard slot, in order to give us control, especially as we approached and then passed, the 90 degree mark.  the bitter end of the rig came out through the slot enabling one man to easily control the descent of the hull.

Another push to make sure we stay close to the tree.

The 135 degree point.  I am incredulous.

The home stretch. 

 As we passed the 90 degree point, the primary goal of the tackle was to slow and control the descent.  Once again the truck front towing hook was used, but this time as a brake.  

Settled on the ground. Further proof that you can't build a boat without a dog.

 Once the boat was on the ground, and we had taken a short break to empty a few bottles of beer, we jacked the boat up using long 2x4 pairs set under the cradle supports.  Then, we rolled the wheeled carriage (formerly the strongback) back under the hull, and lowered the boat onto it.

The rolling carriage (nee strongback) moved into place

View from the stern, with the dog, of course.

 The next step, after cleanup, is to brace the hull more firmly, roll it back into the garage, rebuild the shed, level, and get back to boat building.