June 2012

June 2012


Dear Friends,

Recently, we have been bringing smaller boats to our shop here in Florida. In our tent is a 36-foot Windsorcraft with a dark blue hull and varnished deck. She’s a true beauty. Built in Turkey, the “Party Girl II” is the perfect boat for just that. The boat lives on Lake Minnetonka in Minnesota. The other project is very neat. The 28-foot “Downwind,” is the only one of her kind left. Designed and built by William H. Albury in 1954 in Man-O-War Cay, Abacos, Bahamas. Mr. Albury is probably the most famous of all the Bahamian designer-builders.

The first time I heard the name Albury, I was a much younger man. It was in the summer of 1971, I was 16. I got a job helping on a delivery to Nassau. Back in those days, it was a different world. Wooden fishing sloops lying on the beach, getting work done. Beautiful clipper bows with trail boards and wine-glass transoms with “leg of mutton” rigs, which means the mast is as tall as the boom is long.

I was smitten by these amazing watercrafts as I walked along the beach and talked to the locals. There were different islands and each had their variations. There were even races. Names like Knowles, Pinder and Sawyer were all out island builders.

One day, as we sat aboard at Yacht Haven, this amazingly beautiful schooner sailed in and tied up. I walked out to meet her and grab a line. “Herreshoff?” I asked. The man on deck look insulted and said, “Albury, William H. Albury. He’s Bahamian.”

“Uncle Will” to many was a great builder but an even greater designer. No computers. He did it the old way, with half models. But most importantly, he had a boat builder’s eye. He designed and built by eye, which is a dying art if not already gone in the islands.

So when I got a call from Greg Talbott to go look at his 1954 Albury, I jumped. Greg’s story was simple: The day and age of wooden boat builders in the Abacos ended with the passing of the last generation. He had brought her to the states to have her hull fiber glassed. He had given up trying to find capable wooden boat builders. Then, someone mentioned my name to him.

When I first saw the boat, it had been soda blasted and “Downwind’s” planking is eastern Atlantic cedar. She looked weather battered. Stephanie, my partner, said the boat looked tired. But what I saw was the most beautiful little 28-foot motorboat. On the drive back to the shop, I remember thinking to myself this is why I do what I do. This boat should not be fiber glassed. Now, we are almost done. Five new planks on the top side, six on the bottom, 1,800 silcon bronze fasteners and a new transom. Refairing and paint will be next. I think this passion is slowly working its way into my son, James.

After coming home from a Boy Scout meeting, Troop 141, James said “ Dad, my Boy Scout Troop wants to build a boat for a race. I told them we could build it at our shop!” I thought to myself that my place is not set up for 20 kids. There are too many sharp objects. So after setting some serious ground rules, on two Saturday mornings, scouts came in ones and twos. Eventually, there was a lot of them.

For building materials, they brought six 55-gallon drums, four 2x4s and four sheets of plywood. This was to be the boat? So I asked what kind of boat? One of the leaders told me that it was for a paddle barge and the foam will be here next week. We are going to carve out a boat from Styrofoam, then put some plywood to hold it together? I looked at the boys and asked, “Do you want to build a real boat?” Their eyes glimmered and all at once, a loud “Yes” came out of all of them. I grabbed a piece of cardboard and 

a magic marker and crude plans. My first question was “how long does this boat have to stay afloat, 2 hours?” The answer was maybe that or less. Three sheets of door skin, a bag of electric zip ties and a two-gallon kit of epoxy bonding agent that Teak Deck Systems had given me to test, (I don’t think this was what they had in mind). I helped mark out the first piece, but from then on, this was to be their boat.

The tools were to be simple: a key hole hand saw, a staple gun, a battery drill and a hand block plane. The goal was to get as many of their hands on it as we could. James kind of knew what he was supposed to do from building the remote control boat, so he stepped up to the challenge. Troop 141 was not only building one boat but two, and on two Saturdays. The materials for the original boat planned would be used for a “party barge.”

So we got “The Flying Tiger” cut out, one boy zip tightening and drilling. The hard part was when we mixed up all the epoxy and filled the corners with a fillet of thickened epoxy. Everybody left with a little red epoxy somewhere on their bodies or clothes. Painted with house paint, the boat received finishing touches from our artist Steve Kneipp. He painted an open jaw of a shark. She looked good. I had a concern that if a boy jumped in, he might go through the door skin bottom, so we put a little extra in the bottom.

If you don’t know what door skin is, it’s the 1/16” plywood that is used to sheath cheap interior doors. We use it for pattern stock. The boats were loaded and carried up to the river raft race where all the regional boy scouts from as far as Miami to Daytona came. I was a little nervous when I went up there. There were rafts, catamarans, and a lot of barges, long ones, short ones and then there was our boys’ boat, weighing less than 70 lbs., 16 ft. long, 2-1/2 ft. wide, she was sleek. I left before ours raced. Besides, it was the scouts’ race, right?

Most of the boats took 30 minutes to an hour. When the “Flying Tiger” ran the course, they were back in 15 minutes. The judges didn’t know what to do. I heard later that was the fastest a boat has ever run the course. James was excited. He is already thinking of the next one: “I know what I want to design for next year!”

Until next time,

Jim Moores

January 2011

January 2011

Dear friends,


I recently was in Fort Lauderdale and there in the shed at the Roscioli boatyard was “Annabelle,” a 1955 Trumpy, Contract 372, built for William McKelvy. Annabelle has had many names over the years, starting with “Rumak III,” and “Bettco” then “Windsong.”
Working on her was Barry Oliver, the mate. I have known Barry for many years, back to the days when he worked on “Aurora V,” then owned by Carolyn Weaver. Barry is a true master at what he does and he keeps up Annabelle beautifully.
As we talked about his summer in Maine, it took me back to the first time I had seen “Annabelle.” The year was 1996. A yacht broker from Palm Beach had asked me to take a look at a project boat. We drove to Stuart, Fl. There, way up in the South Fork of the St. Lucie River, sat old “Rumak.” She had been laid open and low. There was fiberglass on the cabin tops with the resin burned out. Someone had changed the pilothouse and her interior doors, cabinets and trim lay in a pile. On the port side, a ficus tree with a five-inch trunk grew out the side. It was a miserable sight.
The broker wanted us to tow her to a shipyard in West Palm Beach where we could check out her bottom and do the work.
We were at the tail end of a major structural refit on another Trumpy, the 1960 “Fairlee,” Contract 393. I had the “Sirius” then, a 1956, 36’ Stonington motor sailor. Nate Smith, Epoxy Mike Doyle, Ryan Schlagel and I embarked on what was to be an ill-fated adventure.
Before we agreed to tow the boat, I wanted to see authorization. The broker pulled out signed papers that looked official. She was to be towed, hauled out and surveyed. It sounded simple enough.
We took “Sirius” by way of the ocean from Palm Beach to the St. Lucie Inlet. Sirius’ old engine kept overheating and in rolling seas, opening the heavy engine hatch and pouring water into the heat exchangers was tricky. Once we reached the South Fork, it got worse. It was like a snake, twisting and turning and a real work out on the wheel.
“Sirius” drew five feet and we touched bottom a few times. Powering through, we reached “Rumak III.” Nate saw the tree growing out of her side, and cut it down right away before we left the dock. It was an insult. The broker took the wheel aboard the Trumpy and I helmed “Sirius” and we paved out 50 to 60 feet of line with lead weights. “Sirius” had two white oak Samson posts so we rigged up a bridle.
The 85 hp diesel with a four blade 24x24 square prop on my old boat had torque. At first, everything went pretty smoothly but when we reached the twists and turns in the river, all hell broke loose. The broker wasn’t paying attention so Rumak’s bow sailed into the mangroves. She was hard aground. I just increased the speed and behind my boat, the root beer water churned and the soft silt seemed to wash away. “Rumak III” slowly started to move. We repeated this many times until we finally cleared the South Fork.
The sun was setting as we passed Manatee Pocket and then we entered the Intracoastal Waterway. It was a little tricky and the same thing happened, the Trumpy grounded. But, this time it was sand and not muck. The tide was coming in and we would have to sit and wait.
That’s when the Florida Marine Patrol came up to us with guns drawn. It turned out that the man selling the boat was not the legal owner of “Rumak III.” As the broker from Palm Beach talked fast to authorities, we started to float back, then “Rumak III” did as well.
“We can’t stay here,” I told the officers. “I have to put my boat in gear and real soon.” They decided we needed to tow her back to Manatee Pocket. We did and tied off Rumak there. They realized we were just towing the boat, and they let us go. We left the Palm Beach broker, who had nearly gotten us all arrested, to fend for himself.
It would be years until we would see her again. A doctor who had owned her before bought her back and had just returned from the Bahamas. Her name was now Windsong. He hauled her out at Cracker Boy Boatworks. Her rudder blocks were rotten and her packing glands electrolyzed on the inside into the wood.
The repairs were simple. The doctor showed me the boat. He had hired house carpenters and done most of the work from materials bought at Home Depot. It looked it. It seemed most, if not all, of her original parts had been thrown away. Years later, I ran into the doctor and he told me that he had sold her, the boat had been taken to the Hinckley yard in Maine and been refitted. I was glad to hear it.
The next time I saw her was at Rybovich Spencer in 2000 and her name was in beautiful gold leaf, “Osceola.” Seeing her back together and back from the grave, delighted me. Although I never met the man who owned her at the time, he had saved a great yacht. He had seen the dream, what she once was, and gave her back her dignity and grace.
So standing at the dock at Roscioli and talking with Barry and the captain, I had a deep appreciation of what she had become and what she had been through to get there.
That trip up the South Fork has always stayed with me. I decided to retrace the trip, minus the police action, on Aurora II, our 1947 Trumpy. My son James, 12, and I readied the boat. I would do the driving and try to teach him along the way. James was a natural. He steers like an old salt. Aurora has twin 471 GMC diesels, 175 hp each, and does 7 to 9 knots. She takes a little time to respond so someone not used to it will overcompensate and zig zag. Not James. He got the feel of her wheel right away.
We spent the night in Manatee Pocket and had short visit with Bill Iler on Windrush. They were catching up on their varnish work. In the morning, the foredeck was covered in frost. James scooped it up and made a ball. He said, “Dad, look. It’s a Florida snow ball.” We fired up the motors and headed to the South Fork
It was the first time we had cruised Aurora with just the three of us so Stephanie had two James to chauffer her around. As we made it into the South Fork, it was as beautiful as I had remembered. The harrowing twists and turns were still there and “Aurora” could not make the turns without using shifters, pulling one in reverse and the other forward. “Aurora” is 61 feet. The “Rumak III” was 79 feet long. It was amazing that we could have towed her out at all. Mangroves lined the river, dotted with red berries and flowers. Cranes, egrets and osprey watched us pass from tall branches and the blue skies above and coffee color water below made the view gorgeous.
I was talking to Stephanie and took my eyes off the river for a few seconds and just like that, we were aground. It wasn’t like running up on sand or rocks, more like running aground on down pillows, if there was such a thing. I put both motors in reverse and she slid right out of it. On our return back, James and I spent most of our time in the pilothouse, with Stephanie catching up on her reading on the aft deck. I found treasure on the trip, spending time aboard with my family.
Before I end this letter, I have some Trumpy news.
Capt. Howard “Butch” Weikel has passed away. He was the captain of the Trumpy “Stargazer” for more than 20 years and before that, he helmed the Trumpy “Paradise,” which is now “Glory.” Capt. Butch was one of the greats of the “Greatest Generation.” A World War II vet, straight shooter, kind, and as honorable and loyal to his boats and his employers as they come. He will be truly missed.
I recently received some information on a 87-foot Trumpy built in 1934, Contract 219, the “Elsie Fenimore,” now called “Carolina Rose” built for E.R. Fenimore Johnson, a pioneer in underwater photography, who financed the Academy of Science’s 1931 expedition to Brazil. She went to California shortly after she was built and has been there ever since. Her last owner has passed away and his wife is looking for a suitable new owner. The yacht has a 200 hp Superior, which is the original motor and in good working conditions. See the photo.
In other news, I went down to spend a day with my old friend Joe Bartram. After lunch, we went on a little trip to visit the 1939 “Drifter,” contract 244, built for Frank O. Sherill. She is a 76-feet houseboat, long and lean, with graceful lines of a prewar Trumpy. There is a lot to work with and all she needs is a suitable patron that can see the dream and bring her back to her former glory. Both of these yachts are worthy projects for consideration. They still have their souls. If you would like to know more, please call Joe. I don’t know any more about these boats than what I’ve put here. Joe’s number is 954-522-5075 or email him at jbbartjr@bartbrak.com.
Finally, I recently received a message from an old friend, Derek Jarvis. We haven’t seen each other in 38 years. As young men, Derek was 24, and I was 18, we shared a common dream to sail to faraway places. Derek’s was to sail around the world. Mine wasn’t as big. I just wanted to make it to the Caribbean. I owned a 36 foot Hilyard, the “Solan Goose,” built in England. Derek had a 30-foot Pearson. For me, it was about the destination. San Salvador, then St. Thomas, Dominica, Martinique, and so on. As young men, the journey was not as important as getting there, to these exotic destinations.
Derek, on “Deliverance” (named before the movie) would make it to Australia. Change out boats and sail on, completing his dream. For me, being broke in the islands turned me north to Maine to learn to build wooden boats.
Age and Aurora have changed my perspective. The previous owner had her for 40 years and he used her every week, never going far, just taking short trips around Miami with friends on board. When Aurora became ours, we tried to do the same. Every week that we can, we untie her, James and I are getting really good at undocking, and set out on a short cruise with good friends as company. The conversation swirls on the back deck and in the pilothouse. And we usually take the same route on the Intracoastal, the same destinations. But I now know it’s about the journey.

Until next time,


Jim Moores

February 2010

February 2010

Dear Friends,

In my last letter, I had told you that the 1919 Trumpy Grand Lady had a new owner. Well, I recently got a call from a young lady, named Katrina Kingsley, on the verge of crying. She is the granddaughter of the boat’s late owner.
The man who was going to buy the boathouse had led them to believe that he was going to purchase the boat as well. It turned out that he was genuine, didn’t have the money and may have been trying to take advantage of a sad situation.
Her brothers have come to the realization that they do not want the responsibility or the liability of boat ownership. The Grand Lady has been moved, towed from the boathouse and hauled out at a ship yard.
She has 30 days, and then Grand Lady will be demolished. Katrina wants to try one more time to save her grandfather’s treasured Trumpy. In his last days, it gave him peace that Grand Lady would find a home, someone better able to take care of her.
I said I would help but time is running out. Katrina’s telephone number is 814-574-8688. Grand Lady is part of American yachting history. Restored to her 1919 glory, Grand Lady would be yacht a new owner could be proud of saving, a legacy.
I have enclosed photos of her move.
As I write this, I am sitting in my office and home movies from 1963 of John F. Kennedy with his family and friends in Newport, Hyannis Port and Palm Beach are playing on my laptop. From kids riding ponies, to playing with puppies to family cruises on the Honey Fitz.
These home movies show Kennedy, despite all the burdens of leadership, at ease, relaxed on the open back deck of Honey Fitz. He’s drinking coffee, reading the newspaper, laughing in delight at his daughter and her cousins as they play.
In 1963, this was a different country. But yachting is still the same, a respite, a sanctuary. Where you can be with your friends and family and let the water and wind wash away your worries for a time.
The movies keep playing so each time I sit down, it keeps restarting itself so I haven’t seen it all the way through.
We finally got the original blue prints for Honey Fitz, then Lenore, and I was amazed at how much she has changed. I have enclosed some shrunken-down drawings but you they don’t do her justice. From what I’ve seen and reading her specifications, she is an extremely significant yacht, built long and light, with a 16 foot beam built to pierce the water.
Before WWII, naval architecture was a magical mix of both art and science. Thomas D. Bowes, the naval architect, for Defoe Boat and Motor Works, designed this yacht the same way as such greats as Nathaniel Hershoff.
He built a half-hull model, which did two things: you could see what she looked liked on the water and with a trained eye, you could hold it and by softly moving it, you could see how the water flowed around it. The second was that you could use the model to create line plans.
Enclosed is her half-scale measurements. A yacht was built from these types of plans.
Back in 1931, to get a motor with enough horsepower, it would weigh a ton, if not two or three. To design for speed required a great deal of balance, where the 500 HP motors and fuel and water tanks would be placed was critical. If you’re just a little off, you would lose speed.
Honey Fitz has five stringers, two of them are to prevent hogging, where the hull gets pushed into the center.
As we remove sections of the hull, it’s like an archaeological dig. Riveted steel bulkheads and engine stringers to a million clench nails that once played an important in holding the double planking to the transformation of her a military coastal patrol boat and then to a presidential yacht.
As we take her apart, it’s like peeling back history. We are following her original plans. The only changes are splices and lamination of the ribs to meet the new U.S. Coast Guard regulations.
We have been putting little movies on the websites so we are giving away our trade secrets, but I still don’t recommend you try this at home.
The project is moving quickly after the preparations the owners’ crew and we made in set up. The guys have all the ribs for the engine room laminated, 52 of them.
The real secret is to find people who love what they do, and will work hard and fast, and then to get out of their way.
Nate Smith is doing the same at our Beaufort, N.C. yard on the Trumpy M/Y Washingtonian. He manages the projects hands-on, by doing the critical work himself.
Like Honey Fitz, Washingtonian is a U.S. Coast Guard inspected vessel and the usually grim-faced inspectors have been giving kudos to the work that Nate and his crew are doing.
Inspectors have told the owners, Paul and Tracy Berger of Chicago, “You are in great hands and these guys, particularly this Nate guy, know what they are doing. They really know wood.”
We know wooden boats. And we know our wood. And we also know when it’s not good enough for our projects. Nate called me the other day, testy and irritated. “I need real mahogany. The stuff I’ve seen here is junk,” he said. He got spoiled because we have some great suppliers in South Florida.
I made some calls and found a source in Wilmington. Nate was driving down there to hand pick the boards he needs because the wood is for Washingtonian’s transom and it’s got to be right. I’ve enclosed photos of the work on Washingtonian.
My next story isn’t mine, it’s Earl McMillin’s. I am not going to edit or change it, just add it as is with the photos. I laughed so hard. I hope you enjoy it, too. It’s on a separate page.
I would like to close this letter by saying the last few years have been the most trying as well as satisfying at the same time. I don’t know how we have been so lucky, that we are able to continue in what we do: work on grand wooden boats, keep legends alive as our saying goes.
As I look at the continuing loop of the home movies of President Kennedy on my laptop, he is disembarking Air Force One and a group of children run to embrace him. A short while later, they are riding a convertible and then walking down to the Honey Fitz.
It’s a small glimpse not only in a president’s life, but a man’s life. I can see why he loved his private time, away from his duties, spent with family in the open air on Honey Fitz’s aft deck. But there’s always a special phone near him, responsibility always near.
The movie is from the summer of 1963. In a few short months, his life would be taken and the world as we knew it changed.
I know how fortunate I am, all of us. I have paused the film to go back to the shipyard. I need to check on the project. I will watch the end later.


Until next time,


Jim

Dear Friends January 2010

January 2010

Dear Friends,

December has come and gone so fast I found it hard to catch my breath. Ocean Reef’s Vintage Weekend this year was a great reminder of years past. Freedom, the 103 Trumpy built for Albert G. Fay in 1927, Contract 181 took center stage. Alan Jackson brought two yachts, a Burger and a Rybovich. Then, there was Jonathan III, a wooden Burger.
The true gem of the show was Legion, the oldest Rybovich around that has been totally restored by Mike Rybovich himself.
There was of course my personal favorite, 75’ Trumpy M/Y America, Contract 420, built in 1965 for James L. Knight, owned by Ted Conklin, the owner of the American Hotel in Sag Harbor. I have spoken of this Trumpy many times and we have taken care of her for many years. She is a one-of-kind, classic houseboat with the longest foredeck, with exquisite clean lines. As for Freedom, I finally got to see her finished in persona and she is a masterpiece. Earl has a lot to be proud of on Freedom.
It was a great show.
Nate Smith, my partner, flew down from MMYC in North Carolina to help bring Washingtonian from St. Augustine to Beaufort. Nate usually doesn’t go out on the yachts more than for a sea trial now and then. But there was safety concerns on Washingtonian making the journey so Nate stepped in for the trip. The journey north went smoothly and she is now sitting in at our Beaufort yard.
The Washingtonian project is to get a COI or get a U.S. Coast Guard ticket back so she can charter. She has new owner, Paul and Tracy Berger of Chicago. He is a renown architect there.
Her to-do list includes shaft logs, new transom and a lot of small projects. We plan to install a bright work transom built out of mahogany. The JDW building has come in handy and this project will slide right in.
The Honey Fitz project is in full swing. Chet Gallanari is the lead carpenter on the project and he has really stepped up. This is a significant project.
Capt. Bryan Akers of the 1930 Consolidated Justice dropped by and took a look at Honey Fitz. “My God, the Honey Fitz looks like she’s in traction,” he said.
I never thought about it, but she sure does. Twelve steel pipes have been welded to her engine beds, where six motors hang on pipes and jacks. There are eight that go through hull to lift the weight of the deckhouse up. We have cut many holes to feed laminate ribs and taken four points per side and laminating three per area. Then, we plan to strip off all the hull in between this. This will be the fastest and most efficient to reshape the hull. With battens screwed in place, there we will be able to do multiple rib laminations at the same time and be able to put her back to her original shape.
We are having virgin cut vertical grain Douglas fir cut, milled, dried and shipped from the West Coast of the U.S. The Honey Fitz was built out of some of the finest, tightest grain vertical cedar of her time. That no longer exists. Also, there’s a lot more weight that has been added to her in the engine room than when she was originally built.
The Douglas fir is a little heavier but will add considerable strength where its needed. With planking out of the way, the metal preservation can be done from the outside of the hull and can be reached from the inside.
This is a very ambitious undertaking, a challenge and I love challenges.
We have soaked the forward bilge wood as we slowly rotated the forward third of the hull until we have zeroed out the levels. From the aft engine room bulkhead to the stem, we have removed the twist and the center hog. However, the aft hog is locked in because that area was already rebuilt with the hog in place by another company.
I have gone on a quest to learn as much about the Honey Fitz as I can that has lead me from the JFK Library to Mystic Seaport. After three days of telephone calls, I wasn’t able to find plans and had hit a dead end.
I called Earl McMillin and he rattled off information like a machine. It was hard for me to keep up. He told me about the university at Bowling Green that has records of the “The Great Lakes Collection.” It still took a while to find the right person at the university when I finally must have said the right thing. A woman told me I needed to talk to Bob Graham in archival research.
I envisioned a man standing in a long warehouse stacked, from floor to ceiling with boxes and crates of documents. After talking to Bob, my suspicions were correct. He said the university recently acquired Defoe’s total collection and have three shipping containers full of drawings that have yet to be catalogued.
I told him about the Honey Fitz and the information I had, including her service as a presidential yacht and how JFK came to name her. It wasn’t until I told him we had started the restoration that his voice lit up with interest. He promised to get back to me in the next two weeks. Three days later, I got a call. “I found all of them, including launching photos, scantlings to materials listed with engineer notes,” he said.
Then it snowballed. The JFK library’s Laurie Austin called and told me they had old movies and photos. Then Mystic Seaport’s Louisa Watrous called me and said they had found photos of when Lenore/Honey Fitz served as a U.S. Navy patrol boat with machine gun turrets and missile launchers. If I had wanted something special for Christmas, this was it.
A while later, I received a call from Bill Iler on Windrush about Grand Lady. He had spoken to Dan, the late owner’s son. Bill told me that someone had bought her and the boathouse. The new owner intends to fiberglass her. It wasn’t really the answer I was looking for but then Sunrise, Freedom would probably not be here today if she hadn’t been glassed to hold her together so she could be restored later.
I would like to end on an upbeat note. Andrew, our webmaster, has redesigned and upgraded our web site and it’s back up. We had run out of room in our old photo gallery and we had to move everything. We are reloading the photos as we find time, when Stephanie has extra time. We are making short movies of Honey Fitz restoration and we will be loading those as well. The goal is once a week. It will be on our youtube channel, which is linked to our website at www.mooresmarine.com. Do a search for “Moores Marine” in youtube and you should be able to see all of our little movies, 17 so far.
I am challenging Nate and Judy to do the same with the Washingtonian project. I don’t know if this has been done before, two pre-war yachts getting refits at the same time, in two different states by the same company.
My first movie was pretty rough but I am getting better at holding the camera steady and getting better content, instead of shots of my shoes. Or, Stephanie’s getting better at film editing. At least I’m good at calling “Action,” or “Get to Work.”

Until next time,


Jim

Dear Friends November 2009

Nov. 23, 2009

Dear friends,

I’ve said it before but it bears repeating: I never had the nerve to dream this big. We just started work on the Honey Fitz, a 92-foot, 1931 Defoe cabin cruiser built in Bay City, Michigan, also known as the eighth presidential yacht and “The Yacht of Camelot.”
She was originally built for Sewell Avery, chairman of Montgomery Ward, as Lenore. President John F. Kennedy renamed the boat after his maternal grandfather, John Francis “Honey Fitz” Fitzgerald, mayor of Boston. Reportedly, one of Kennedy’s favorite photographs shows him on the aft deck of the Honey Fitz with his daughter Caroline.
Recently, Honey Fitz hauled out at the Rybovich north yard to do some shaft work. Rybovich called us in to laser target the yacht because proper haul out and blocking of wooden boats are critical. After the survey, Rybovich executives contacted us again about the boat, particularly Mike Rybovich. She needed more than shaft work.
I was taken aback when Mike turned down the project. I have always held Mike in the highest regard for the amazing sports fishing boats that he and his family have innovated and built over the years.
I visited with Mike about the yacht at his boat shop. “Jim, you are the only one who can do that project right,” he said, “We’re not set up for that type of refit, but you are. Besides, that’s what you do best.”
Mike and I have watched each other’s careers through 28 years. He builds great boats and I restore and preserve them from the past. During the two-year Summerwind refit, we worked almost within shouting distance in the same yard. Me, rebuilding and Mike, building. They each present unique challenges.
When I left his office, it hit me: This is Mike Rybovich. He thinks we’re the ones to do this job right. I have never been paid a higher compliment by a colleague.
So for the next few days, we worked on a game plan. Don Thibeault, our veteran master boat builder, said it best about Honey Fitz. “She’s built like a 90 foot canoe, lots and lots of small frames plus stringers.”
Our immediate goal is to remove the twist she has developed bow to stern and try to reduce the hog. We will be disassembling the engine room, 140 ribs plus 70 planks, eight stringers and that’s just getting started. We have removed hogs in the past but never over this length. This is going to be a great challenge.
I have been doing a little research on her and Honey Fitz is an American legend, with a long history of the rich and famous and powerful.
The following is an excerpt from the JFKlibrary.org website on the boat:
According to Dave Powers (author of Johnny, We Hardly Knew Ye, and a long-standing friend of John F. Kennedy), Kennedy had some of his happiest moments aboard the Honey Fitz ). A life-long lover of the sea, Kennedy would slip away from the White House for a few quiet hours on the yacht in the Potomac. He spent Easter and Christmas holidays on her in Palm Beach, Florida, as well as taking days off in September and October aboard her at Hammersmith Farm. The cover of Powers' book in paperback version was one of the President's favorite photographs, taken on the aft deck of the yacht.
Commanded by Lt. Cmdr. Walter C. Syle of the Naval Administration since the Eisenhower administration, the Honey Fitz was redecorated by Mrs. Jacqueline Kennedy herself, who installed a color television for the first time aboard the vessel, primarily for the enjoyment of her young children.
The vessel was primarily used for the family and close friends, though some dignitaries did visit from time to time (Powers particularly remembered Harold MacMillan on board once), and numerous photographs were taken on the yacht. The boat is also on record as being used to transfer guests down the Potomac to Mount Vernon for a particularly impressive State dinner one evening during JFK's administration.
From President Kennedy's birthday (May 29) until approximately mid-September the yacht was kept at the Cape and used every weekend. One particularly happy occasion was the surprise birthday party Jackie threw for her husband in 1963, with most of the family on board. Kennedy loved to spend time alone with his children on the yacht.
The bullshot was the favorite drink aboard, bracing against even the strongest winds. One of the original Kennedy life preservers and two of the flags from the boat are in the Kennedy Library.
I have been saying I don’t know how many more of these big projects I have left in me. But after launching Summerwind in the spring and taking some much needed time off to renovate our Florida shop and gets some R&R, I am ready to get back in the saddle. I’m sure at the end of this project, I’ll say the same thing again.
Prior to Kennedy, Honey Fitz served presidents Truman and Eisenhower. After him, Johnson and Nixon. Nixon, who named the yacht Patricia after his wife, sold the yacht in 1970.
Then in 1998, the yacht was sold for $5.9 million at a JFK memorabilia auction. Other auction items included a handwritten draft of his inaugural address, best remembered for: “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.”
All of the yachts we work on carry stories with them, of people both famous and not, and good and not so good times on board. Our job is to make sure as many of these yachts carry on to collect more stories, more memories, for years to come.
On that note, I have some bad news as well. I hate hearing them and passing them on but it seems that’s become part of these letters. I just find it disheartening to repeat them.
A few weeks ago, I received a few calls from Maryland about a Trumpy sinking. It was the 71’ Trumpy Eleanor, Contract 243, built in 1939 for William M. Davey as Martha. She has been leaking for some time and there was an electrical malfunction and she went down in relatively shallow waters. She is hauled out now and in Cambridge on railways.
Eleanor, once owned by Howard Hughes, is one of my favorite Trumpy yachts and hopefully will be back in service soon.
The next is Valor. I have received calls from Bill Waskey and Eric Horst about her. This Trumpy, which was featured in the movie “The Wedding Crashers,” is scheduled for demolition soon. The yard manager has offered to let people take what they want before she is crushed. I am not in a position to take advantage of this offer but I have copied the email on the back of this letter.
Also, time is running out on the Grand Lady, the 1919 Trumpy. She needs a new owner, soon. She is one of the oldest Trumpy yachts still alive.
Now, on to the good news. I like that better. Last week was old home week. Everyone showed up at the same time. Capt. Bryan and Cori Akers on Justice, Capt. Kevin Thompson with a 40-foot Garwood in tow and then Capts. John and Aimee Russell on S.S. Sophie.
This means summer is definitely over. This is a happy time of the year and I’m glad to see everyone back, safe and sound.
This month is going by so fast and I’m sorry it took so long to get my last letter out. Some of you might have noticed that your name or address was handwritten or it was sent to an old address.
We had a computer crash. Instead of the mailing list being updated on the server as it was supposed to, it got saved on a local computer that crashed. Best we could do was retrieve a list that went back three years. We’ve been trying to piece it back together.
Moving on, naval architect Bruce Marek has gone back to the drawing board on the launch. Since they will be cold molded, he has worked away to build station frames and with shifting them closer and farther, we will be able to build two different sized launch, a 29 footer and a 40 footer.
I am hoping to see finished plans very soon. The 29 footer will not have the stack, stand up head, and be more a center console or bow steering type.
Lastly, Ocean Reef is coming up quickly. I hear that Freedom, the 103’ Trumpy will be there and Larry Mullins plans to debut his new boat there, the Legend, the oldest Rybovich around. He went to great lengths to find her and bring her back to Florida, her birthplace. Mike Rybovich did the restoration 20 years ago and the boat was recently back with Mike.
I won’t tell you anymore but ask Larry. It’s his story to tell. There are a lot of good, old friends who say they will be there. I hope you’ll be one of them.

Until next time,


Jim Moores

Dear Friends October 2009

Dear Friends, October 2009

I’m at an age when I look back and wonder if I’ve made the right decisions in my life. On my trip north, there was a part I left out. My little journey back to who I was as a much younger man. Leaving Chip Holmes’ place in Darmariscotta, I headed to Thomaston. I haven’t been there in a long time. Getting down to where Newbert & Wallace once stood, where I apprenticed, there was a new shipyard, Lymon Morse sitting there.

I parked the rental and asked a man where the old Charles Morris shipyard used to be. The man pointed to the shore, “See those wooden beams and the cut-off stubs of piling sticking out. That’s what’s left.” I climbed down the embankment and stood on the rocky beach. I found two iron spikes. This is where the Alden schooner “Summerwind” was launched in 1929. This was also where I worked in my early 20s for a short while. I put the spikes in my pocket and headed to Tennant Harbor to Leighton’s Boat Shop, next to the lobster pound.

As I came over the hill, it looked liked nothing had changed. But where Leighton’s once stood, there was a new three-story building, Lymon Morse of Tenants Harbor, the sign read. A man came up as asked if he could help me. I told him I had worked there back in the 1970s. He pointed up the hill and said Sonny Leighton had passed away a few years back and his shop had been gone for some time.

This kind of gave me a knot in my stomach. I got into my rental and drove on. I hadn’t planned to track the beginning of my career, the things and places that formed the foundation of my company today. Just some brief stops on old stomping grounds and found they have long since disappeared.

I headed to Lubec. After not finding my friend Steve at his house, I went down to the water and there was my old boat shop, R.S. Colson Boat Works. I stopped to take a look. The doors were open. I didn’t chose not to go in. This was a memory I wanted left intact. I walked down the road and found a rose bush laden with rosehips. I picked two handfuls. They were plump and perfect. Looking out toward Grand Manan and Quoddy Head, I let a big breath out. Your past is just that, the live you’ve lived. And I was looking for something that was gone. That was a long time ago.

I found a place to sit down at the beach and emotions rushed at me that I didn’t know I still had, from twenty years ago. My house burned down and I didn’t have insurance. Paid cash for it and hadn’t gotten around to insuring it. That wiped me out. Everything I had saved and any money I made went to rebuilding the house, for three very long years.

I learned about real friendship. Bert Wilcox used to say you can count your true friends on one hand. Have your house burn down and see how many of them come to help you. It kind of weeds them out real fast. But friends like Steve and Bert, who was an old man even then, helped me save what was left of my house. I refused to let the fire break me. This was not the first time that fire had consumed my life. My childhood home also went up in a fire. In saving my house, it destroyed my first marriage.

But not only did I survive the fires, divorce and other calamities. My world changed and they opened up opportunities in ways I couldn’t even dream of because they started a series of events.

I am a graduate of the school that if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. The events in Maine pushed me permanently South, instead of just the winters.
Without the lows, you can’t appreciate the highs in your life. I don’t know who said that but it holds true. And I’ve had some grand highs. That we get to work on some of the most magnificent wooden yachts ever built and I get to meet people from all over and all walks of life are high on that list. I left the beach feeling that a rock had been lifted from my shoulders. It was good to go home. It made me appreciate how far I’ve come.

More recently, I was in North Carolina for a few days while Nathan was at the Annapolis Boat Show, representing Seakeeper gyro stabilizers for our distributor. He met up with Captains John and Aimee on the S.S. Sophie and he picked up Chesapeake Bay Magazine, and told me there was a mention of Peter Anzo’s Trumpy yacht, aptly named Chesapeake and our work on her.
Peter loves boats, he and his friends own marinas, and he is truly smitten with his new Trumpy. He plans to cruise the West Coast of Florida this winter. I hope to meet him someday. We plan to put a link to Peter’s marinas on our web site soon if our webmaster, Andrew Peeling, who is in graduate school, teaching and newly married, can squeeze me in. He’s a busy guy and still does a wonderful job.

A couple of other things I want to mention:
My monthly letters would be a series of ramblings if it wasn’t for my wife, Stephanie Smith. In addition to everything she does for the companies, Stephanie is writing again in her “spare” time. She was a newspaper reporter for many years. Lately, she’s been writing for the business magazine, Success, and has done several stories including pieces on Craig Newkirk, founder of Craigslist and the profile she did on Mario Andretti will be out on newsstands in December.

Ocean Reef’s Vintage Weekend is coming up, and easy to remember. It’s always the first weekend in December. The varnish is drying on this year’s John Trumpy Award. I hope we will see you there.

Grand Lady is still looking for a patron.

Lastly, Stephanie and I recently had dinner with Carl and Misty Vesper and Jerry and Shirley Foster. Carl is back to his old self and Misty is still the life of the party. Carl hasn’t given up boating, just downsized, although the Vespers were going on a cruise.

Until next time,

Jim Moores

Dear Friends September 2009

Dear friends, September 2009

The last time I was in Maine was a long time ago. My son, Andre was graduating from high school. He is now 28. Flying north for my trip, a little storm named Danny was just making landfall and caused cold, overcast rains to greet me when I landed in Hartford, Conn. I briefly stayed with my oldest son, Alexandre, Heather and my three grandsons, in Bristol. The boys are always growing. Marcus, who was still a baby the last time I saw him, is now speaking in full sentences and that happened awfully quickly.
The rain kept pouring and after two days, it was time for me to go, rain or not. It kept up while I drove through western Massachusetts, doing 30 mph, going up and down all the way to Portland, Maine. I really didn’t care. Driving helps clear the mind. By the end of the day, I was around Damariscotta. Chip Holmes, an old friend, lives near there. I tried to give him a call but there was no answer. I headed on. Twenty minutes went by when Chip called back. “Well, turn around,” he said. I did. The sun was in its last stages for the day and I was ready to get off the road, even if it meant going back. Chip’s house was full of friends for “Saturday Supper” as he called it. The food was fresh out of his garden and everyone brought their specialty. Chip and I had some catching up to do. At the dining table were Chris and Jen Powell. The boat that Chip is just finishing up is Kim, a steel sailboat built in France that was frozen into ice for the winter exhibition in Antarctica. Chip has been retrofitted for circumnavigation.
It has been a total refit and he did it at his shop. Two years in the making. I don’t know if it was the rain mist or all the green but as the sun started to set, the sky turned a light pea green. I have never seen that before and I wasn’t alone. Then it slipped away.
So as we sat around, trying to top each other’s sea stories and harrowing tales, you could see Jen get increasingly concerned. Chip told her 95 percent of the days sailing, when it’s perfect and flat calm, are rarely discussed. It would be boring. We talk about 5 percent of sailing, the interesting bits. These are the stories that usually start with, “The wind really started blowing. And then…” She seemed relieved. I wished them luck. They will have their own 5 percent stories to tell, I’m sure, like a badge of honor to be told and retold. I spent a few days with Chip and then headed north to the edge of the earth as some of us call it, my old hometown of Lubec, Maine, the eastern most point of the U.S.A. The sky was clear and deep blue. The Carolinas haven’t cornered the market on blue skies.
As I drove down the winding roads, the old knowledge filled my brain. Turn left there for the shortcut. I drove the back roads. Then the names of old friends came back to me: Bunky Tinker, Johnny Morrison, Eddie Rier, Cal Bennett, Eric Lockenbough and so on. I haven’t seen them in a long while. I had even thought I might have forgotten some of their names but I haven’t.
My cell phone lost its signal when I turned the corner at Whiting to head to Lubec. Yup, end of the earth. Lubec is a peninsula with five smaller peninsulas. They call it the “Hand of Lubec” for that reason. I turned down to go to Baily’s Mistake. It’s a beautiful little harbor. Poor Captain Baily thought he was at the Lubec Narrows in a heavy fog way back when. He sailed his square rigger in and realized he made a wrong turn, he was 7 miles off. No way to turn around, she sailed ashore. Hence the name, Baily’s Mistake. Some of the old houses there are made of Capt. Bailey’s ship. These proud sailors started a settlement rather than go back to their Boston home office in shame.
I traveled down the back roads headed to my old friend Steve Rier’s house. We’ve been the best of friends since we were young men, in our early 20s. Yes, a long time ago. Steve and Chip are both the ingenious types. They can fix just about anything that’s broken with very little, using “Mainegenuity.” Time has been hard on my old friend Steve and I was there for that reason. Steve, his wife Cathy and I had a lot of catching up to do. I got to see a lot of friends. In a short time, I was back up to speed. It did not feel like so much time had slipped by, a decade. Steve had saved everything I ever sent him over the years. I was amazed and touched.
Steve and I sailed a few thousand miles together on an old 47-foot Hood racing yawl. She had a center board and Steve is from the school of keels. My oldest, Alexandre, used to call him “Stevie Keel Boat,” as a child because we used to get into these heated discussions about the merits of both. I repeated the story to Steve and Cathy and it brought smiles to both of them.
I left Lubec and headed south to Winter Harbor to have lunch with friends Allen and Vicki Goldstein. Vicki was to race and Allen was on the committee boat. During lunch, Allen shared the story of the Winter Harbor Yacht Club. Back in the early 1900s, there were small race boats, 31 feet, built for the club. They are called knockabouts, also known as The Rainbow Fleet or the Winter Harbor 21. They are beautiful little boats.
Over the years, they slowly disappeared from the club and only two remained, not enough for that class of boats to race. Allen went on a quest to see if he could find the other boats and bring them home. One by one, he found them. There wasn’t much left to many of them. They were restored and due to his diligence, the entire fleet was restored and reunited. They only sail and race at Winter Harbor.
Designed for a crew of four, they are beautiful. They are all different colors, I guess that’s so you can cheer your team from a long ways away. The restorations were masterfully done. This is a success story I would love to hear over and over again.
After lunch, my journey took me further south and I couldn’t be in Maine without heading to Wooden Boat magazine in Brooklin. Matt Murphy of Wooden Boat and Aaron Porter of Professional Boatbuilder sat around talking. I was to be Aaron’s guest later. Aaron and his lady love, Kate Holden, are part owners in a beautiful restaurant, The Table, in Blue Hill. It’s a beautiful setting, along a babbling brook.
The food and wine were excellent. I had fresh halibut. I can’t remember the wine that Aaron picked but it was perfect with the fish. Hanging out with wooden boat people can be incredibly tiresome. But Kate was spared death by boredom because work mercifully called her away. Aaron and my conversations went around and around, from the world economy, shipyards that I visited in my travels to the future of our craft. I look forward to our next visit and conversation. Aaron is such a sharp young man and nice, to boot.
In the morning, I headed further south to the center of the universe, The American Hotel at Sag Harbor. I arrived just in time for Ted Conklin’s son, Teddy’s birthday cruise on the Trumpy America. Teddy is now 15 and had full run of his father’s yacht. We headed to Barcelona Point and the kids and the dog went swimming. We gently cruised the protected waters around Sag Harbor, circumnavigating Shelter Island, heading to another cover where the kids swam again and sang “Happy Birthday,” to Teddy. With Capt. Frank Mikuletzky at the helm, we were all enjoying one of the last great days of summer. Teddy would be soon off to school. That day special was special to all of us on the boat, not just to the birthday boy.
I spent time in the pilothouse with Capt. Frank. America, Contract 420, built in 1965 for James L. Knight of Knight Ridder newspapers fame, has had a great charter season. Twenty-two charters so far from half days to three-day trips. They have been very busy. Ted owns The American Hotel built in 1846 that sits right in the center of it all. The next day, I ventured to the hotel to see Ted. It was early morning, just in the front door, there was a radio show broadcasting live from The American Hotel for National Public Radio. I just sat quietly at the bar, listening and watching. I was introduced to Jeff Peterson, a good friend of Ted’s. As we talked, different people would enter and leave the conversation. Carl Bernstein of Watergate fame sat in for a while as we talked about Jeff’s Model A pickup truck. Bad gas or was it water in the tank? Since I’ve had a few old engines, I put in my two cents. “Install a water separator.” Jeff thought that was brilliant. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I am actually a mechanical klutz.
There was a man listening in on our conversation. He looked kind of familiar, like I might have seen him down in Palm Beach. But thankfully, I didn’t embarrass myself by asking. He was one of the journalists from “60 Minutes” Jeff told me after he left the restaurant. I heard live classical music coming from the next room, as Ted’s Julliard-trained friend Brenda played the piano.
I realized Ted wasn’t kidding. I was, in fact, in the center of the universe.




















The next day, I was invited to a trip to the city. We were to stay at the New York Yacht Club. For all of you who are members, you already know. For those who are not, let me tell you, it was grand. I have always admired great architecture, whether on boats or buildings. The three front windows looked like the sterns of Spanish galleons. I was impressed before we even entered the front door. I’ve been fortunate to be involved with some great American yachts, but this was the first time I stepped inside the cathedral to American yachting at 37 West 44th Street.
In the great model room, many of the models were pre-war yachts. Every great yacht ever built could be found somewhere in the yacht club. It was like opening a great bottle of wine. Every one of my senses was aroused. I stopped by every case to admire the models. These were made by artists, not model makers. Gravity pulled me to the library, where I picked up on my research that I started at Joe Bartram’s private library. Each book I opened would bring tears to my eyes. Allergies. I’m not that sentimental. I started back in the 1890s. The odor of aged paper would make me want sneeze but that didn’t stop me.
I got to be less serious hanging out with Teddy, now 15. He is a lot of fun. Stephanie says I sometimes act like I’m 15 so Teddy and I were bound to get along. We went to the top of the “Rock,” Rockefeller Center for the spectacular view, to the museum of natural history where a good friend of Ted’s took us behind the scenes, to the artifact room. I took some photos and sent them home to my son through my phone. I got an message back from James, “Dad, I was standing exactly where you are. I was already there, remember?” He had beat me to the punch. James had come up to New York a month earlier with my niece Kirsten and her son Michael. He had already done the tour but I got to see the restoration room.
I’ve been to NYC before but I was usually in a hurry. Never did all this. We completed our city experience with hot dogs and Times Square. I had really done NYC this time.
It was a nice drive back to Sag Harbor. The next morning, Capt. Frank and I headed to Montauk to say hello to Capt. Bryan Akers. He was preparing Justice, a 1930, 70 foot Consolidated for her trip to NYC. Bryan was busy, but he took time out to have lunch and swap a few stories. It was time to go and I still had a long way to get back to the Hartford to fly home and see the grandsons one more time. I missed seeing a lot of people because I ran out of time.
Maybe that is a blessing in disguise. It only means I need to get back to New England more often. A lot more often.

Until next time,

Jim Moores


P.S. We are still looking for a taker for Grand Lady, the 1919 Trumpy. I have had a few calls, but nothing serious. I have included more photos but time is running out. Dan, the son of the owner who passed away, would like to see her get a good home. They plan to sell the boathouse she’s in. If you are interested, the boat is free but the boathouse is $100,000. It’s a pretty good deal. If you’re interested or know someone, give me a call.
I had lunch the other day with Kevin Walters, owner of the Trumpy Lunetta, Contract 196, built in 1928 for Col. S.L.H. Slocum. Kevin has recently gone through a divorce and has spent more than a million on the Lunetta project. He still loves the yacht but his life is moving in a different direction. He will entertain offers of 18 cents on the dollar. There is one person who has made a serious offer but it’s to turn Lunetta into a beach house. Her parts are in a warehouse and there are two rebuilt 1271 GM diesels. If you have questions, call Kevin at 561-659-8431. If you want to buy her, call Joe Bartram at 954-522-5428. She one of six Trumpy Grande Dames left. It would truly be a shame for her to be turned into house.
As I said in my last newsletter, I don’t want to write boat obits. I’m also not a boat broker. I just hate to see any more of these boats get destroyed and lost forever. They are irreplaceable.