November 2006

Dear friends,

I would like to share with you a tale of adventure and even magic. Maybe it’s getting to be that time of year, just luck, or just opening my eyes wider but I started writing this on the plane flying back from North Carolina.

I went to Beaufort to meet with engineers about Phase II at Moores Marine Yacht Center. I brought a friend, Jon Dunn, of Dunn Marine, to help me with my electrical requirements. Some dear friends offered me their house on the water in Beaufort while they were away, actually in South Florida while I went up there.

As the sun rose in the morning, I sat on their second-story porch overlooking the water and boats. The sky filled with pink and yellow as the sun drenched everything it touched. The smell of the sea filled my senses. It was like standing in a postcard.

Behind me, a bell kept ringing. Afraid I might miss a moment, I turned around. The lift bridge opened and a line of sail boats motored through the bridge. I watched them go out to sea from the porch. They looked like ducks in a row.

Later that day, I headed out to Harkers Island. On the way, my friend Jimmy Berkeley, who has been overseeing construction in Beaufort, was trying to teach me about the Carolinas. “Do you see that?” I wasn’t sure what he was pointing at. “Look at the sparkles on the water. That’s why it’s called the Crystal Coast.” I could see it. The water refracted like cut crystal.

Once we reached the end of Harkers Island, we got out of the car. I showed Jon the point and Hatteras National Sea Shore and Cape Lookout lighthouse. Jon cut me short. “Do you hear that?” We fell silent. As we stood there, the wind was calm, no cars, planes or trains, not even bugs. It was so quiet I could hear my heart beat. I never take the time to notice these things. I’m rushing around all day with a cell phone in my ear.

The next day, after a series of construction meetings, I headed out to Big Bend, 15 miles out of town, looking for a house that was listed for sale. The house was a disappointment. Coming back, I turned right and headed to South River. As we drove, I saw something in the woods. We pulled over and there in the woods was a hull of a 70-foot plus wooden ship, ribs exposed and trees growing through her. We traveled down the road, stopped and watched fishermen bring their boats to dock. We stopped to talk. “How did you do?” The man proudly opened a big cooler. It was full. We helped him load his cooler in his truck. This fishing village reminded me of Maine. Work boats. Nets drying in the breeze. We walked around and met Liam Hardy, 86, and his wife. We sat on their porch for a while and she kept saying she didn’t like him out fishing by himself because “You know, he’s old.” I asked him if there were any houses for sale and he pointed down the road. “My cousin, L.J. Hardy, he has a house he might sell. You could talk to him.”

We knocked on Mr. L.J. Hardy’s house. We stood there talking for quite a while. Then he showed me the house. “It’s a little small,” he said. It’s about 1,000 square feet. Three small bedrooms and a bathroom, porches in front and back. From the back porch, you could see Mr. Hardy’s shrimp boat. We visited for a while, mostly talking about boats and fishing. He was a retired captain, used to run big tug boats. After a while, he said, “I’ll sell you the house. You would make a good neighbor.” That was that. He had to size me up first and I guess I passed.

The next day, L.J. Hardy turned 80 and he invited me to his party. Jimmy and I went and met his wife, Mary, and their two daughters. We sang “Happy Birthday.” These Hardys have are pretty hearty and I’m sure there will be many more birthdays. And I appreciate Mr. Hardy deciding he would sell his cottage to me because it will be a great place to live. There are live oaks trees and 100-year-old pines in the yard and access to as much fresh shrimp as we can eat. I can’t wait.

The next day, at the construction site, I’m running around, trying to get ready for Phase II, to make room for more boats on the land. The backhoe is digging and they started to lay the water pipe and the surveyor’s stakes. While I was there, S.S. Sophie cruised through. Captains John and Aimee called to say hello and to remark on all the new docks at Jarrett Bay. Next time, they’ll stop.

As I drove to the airport, I saw cars covered in cotton balls. The wind was blowing through the cotton fields and there were twisters of cotton balls swirling in the air. This was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

The last amazing thing from my North Carolina trip was meeting David Rose. He is from Harkers Island and he was a key man in restoration of the Lunetta, a 95-feet Trumpy. David is a soft spoken man with a strong Downeast accent. This man’s hands are tough from years of hard work. I was kind of embarrassed at how soft my hands must feel in comparison ever since my knees, right arm and back gave out and I’ve straddled a desk instead of jumping scaffolding. He comes from a long line of boat builders. He and his brothers have built some 50 boats and rebuilt many more. He doesn’t remember how many, just “a whole bunch.” We are proud and excited to have Dave join us at Moores Marine in North Carolina. Dave shares our philosophy: We just want to do the best work of our careers with each boat. Welcome aboard, Dave.

You would think after my adventures in Beaufort, that would be the end of this letter but I spent one night at home and I was off again. I got back, drove to Miami for IBEX, a marine trade show, and then I headed out to Florida’s west coast the same day.

The following morning, at sunrise, we were on board Emma, a 58’ Trumpy built in 1963, helping the owner bring her to Palm Beach County from Palmetto. The crew also included owner Bill Jenkin’s brother, Eric and pro golfer and nice guy Jeff Leak. We picked a tough weekend to head east. The Weather Channel chatter predicted 2 to 5 feet seas with wind gusts up to 25 knots. As we cleared the point at Tampa Bay, we hit a 2 to 3 beam sea and something we forgot to stow flew about. It hit the glass on the table on the aft deck, making the glass slide off its table base. It didn’t break but it hit the deck loud enough to knock the sleep from our eyes. I have never traveled the west coast of Florida so this was a treat. The movement of the sea and wood decks under my feet reminded me that it has been too long. Coming down the dark green water in Sarasota, porpoises followed us down the waterway. When we came out of Venice’s inlet, our porpoise friends followed us out to sea and there, they left us behind.

So what is the occasion for the latest adventure? Ocean Reef Vintage Weekend, Nov. 30 through 3. Bill and I have been thinking and planning the trip for a while but now that it was getting close, although we’re both very busy, we want to make sure to make time. I know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Emma will be at Singer Island, getting varnish and paint, a little here and there, in time for the show.

Heading in shore, the sunset and full moon rising, we are running on GPS and search lights. We slow our speed down. The throb of the diesels ringing in unison. I headed down to the main saloon and as my eyes started to close, we hit something submerged. Was it a log or sunken boat left over the Hurricane Ivan? We don’t know but from the ring of the metal, we know it has hit the prop, and hard. We tied up at the Fort Myers dock. In the morning, as we filled her fuel tanks, we stood on the dock looking down at the root beer water felt the wind out of the north. We decided to run on one engine. Leaving the dock at 1500 RPM, we are making 8 knots with the wind at our nose.

As we proceed up the Okeechobee waterway, it started to narrow. The water got deeper and Emma picked up speed at the same RPMs. We were cruising at 9.3 knots, still on one engine. Breakfast was served by Jeff: potato salad, ham sandwiches and cola. Obviously, this is a guys-on-an-adventure breakfast.

We decided to cross Lake Okeechobee at night. By the light of the full moon, we reached the eastern shore, Port Mayaca lock. The lock was closed so we set anchor for the night. As we motored along, our gauges read 24 to 22 on the charger. Those were supposed to be volts, not amps, meaning our batteries were going dead! I was at the wheel most of the day and I thought I was reading the gauges wrong. The engine shut down. That was it. The alternator was dead. The batteries were dead.

About 1-1/2 years ago, we had taken out an old Sentry charger because it cooked the batteries. We installed a modern type that could sense the amps needed to maintain the batteries. Well, with that said, we were all stuck in Lake Okeechobee. But, it was a simple problem. We needed a 32v charger. For a dead battery with a 120 amp system, we would need to charge for four days at 16 amps. The hero in this story is Capt. Jim Twaddle for cleaning out his carport, giving me his old broken Sentry 32-volt charger.

Arie, our electrician, fixed it and turned it into a portable charger and Janel, from the marine store, drove the contraption to the lake. The old Trumpy charger brought our system back on line in less than 2 hours. It wasn’t a bad two hours. We watched movies, “Clear and Present Danger” and “Bedazzled.” If there were no low points in an adventure, how would you judge the highs? We had some good times such as when Bill tried to land the dinghy and needed to get a 12 foot sleeping alligator to move off a small beach. The gator was bigger than the dinghy.

The adventures are over. I’m back at the shop. Stargazer III is in full swing. We should be getting close to painting her this week. She’s gone through a total topside refit. We’re making new rub rails and spray rails for her to go with it.

Later this week, Capt. Twaddle will be here with Stately Lady. He’s bringing her down from St. Michael’s in Maryland. We’ve also got 102-foot Alden schooner coming in from Majorca, Spain and we’re supposed to work on a mine sweeper from the Korean War. My plate is full.

I’m sure by the time Ocean Reef weekend comes around, I’ll be ready for another little adventure. I hope to see you there. If you want to come down on Saturday, give my office a call and I’ll get your name on the day list. My office number is 561-841-2235. Ask for Janel. Let me know as soon as you can.

Hope to see you there,

Jim Moores