"Do you think you can help me with this" Nicholai asked? "Does asparagus make your piss stink?" Le Cagot replied."

Trevanian, Shibumi

Last week, Island Time Jim stopped by while I was dropping some stuff off at ‘Div and asked me how crazy I really was……I didn’t have to think about it for too long. “You know me” I said, “I’m muy crazy”.

“Good” he replied, as we drove over to the  Bass Street Marina to check out a certain 27 foot Catalina that some guy up in Corpus had just purchased on E-Bay for like 2,600 dollars. “’Cause the new owner wants us to deliver the boat up to Corpus next weekend, and willya take a look at this thing?”

Now believe me, project boats are no stranger to me, they followed me around for a good many years, until I finally did the math and realized that there is just a point of diminishing returns on the things, and so since ‘Div, I have made a conscious effort not to even look at a boat that resembled a project. Most of you know what I mean. Today, just the thought of a project boat makes me tired. We’ve all re-bedded stanchions, fixed blisters, chased rigging, cussed corroded electrical systems, railed against reticent engines redolent of years of neglect. The list is endless, and it seems as if the project boat will never sail away from the dock. And oftentimes, it doesn’t. No, it’s bad enough with an upgraded, well taken care of vessel. So it was with a modicum of distant amusement that I surveyed this old girl.

I had seen this condition before. Too many times

An obvious well developed reef surrounded the waterline, a true marine biology project, great billowing growths of algae, oysters, tunicates, barnacles, and all other manner of warm water marine growth gently waving in the translucent water. Fat mullet nibbled gingerly at the growth and further below one could make out the form of a spadefish or two barely visible in the inky depth. A true ecosystem had evolved since the last time this boat was untied and taken into open water.

Above the waterline, a hodgepodge of accumulated nautical detritus was stuffed into the cabin, which itself had become a science project in mold and mildew culture. The cockpit contained the usual spaghetti conflagration of lines and fenders, all faded and brittle from prolonged neglect and exposure to the relentless latitude 26 sun.

From the stern hung a 9.9 outboard, lower unit above the water, by just inches.

 “Check this out” Jim muttered as he took hold of the power head, gently twisting the engine on the bracket, indicating with his eyes, at the stern which bulged in and out like the bottom of an oil can.

We both knew that this Clorox bottle would never make it on the outside for a ride up the coast. No, we were going to have to try and coax it up the intracoastal waterway, up the ditch…..

The remainder of the week was spent getting things ready (mostly by Island Time Jim, who, being retired, promptly put himself to work on the project). On Wednesday I bailed early from my phony baloney administrators job and went over to help lift off the engine and install a ¾” plywood backing plate, which somewhat shored up the stern. We hoped it would last at least to Corpus. But we did, after all have sails, and with any luck we would have a reach all the way.

After we re-mounted the engine and hung the outboard, I donned the dive gear and plopped into the water, scraping the hull clean in about an hour and a half. The water line rose a good inch and a half.

Thursday, final preparations were being made while the arrival of a late season norther was being anticipated.  

Friday, the norther came, and Jim fiddled and fiddled with the carburetor from the 9.9, never getting the engine to run for more than a few minutes. Finally in frustration, he called and said that it looked like the engine wasn’t going to cooperate. Perhaps a long neglected piston had corroded through.

The trip was off.

So Saturday, which was to have been another anniversary of my birth, underway this year, was spent watching the twins perform folklorico dance  in McAllen at a baby fair (and DON’T ask me about this).

Returning Saturday evening, we got together with Island Time Jim and Janice to go out to eat, but first, a little birthday present.

Jim knows that I have been closing in on a big boat for big escapes, and so here was his contribution, MY NEW BOAT:

It is Tuesday now, and yesterday we dropped the mast on the Clorox bottle Catalina, securing it to the deck. I am waiting a phone call so as to bail once again from my phony baloney administrators job and help Jim tow the thing over to South Point, where the Travel-Lift will pull it out of the water and we will load it on to a big trailer so that the owner can truck it to Corpus……

……Then he’ll get his first taste of a true project boat.