I Built a Boat—The Pearl

Early on in my woodworking education I was lucky to have worked in a wooden boat shop off and on for a few years. I was hired as an unskilled laborer and my starting pay was under minimum wage. The low pay was a test to see if I had what it took to do the work of wooden boat building and restoration—the work is far from romantic. The restoration work consisted of scraping paint (often lead), cleaning bilges, and splitting planks or ribs off old hulls. The new construction required a lot of set up, layout, material preparation, and monotonous tasks like peening 1000’s of rivets. The low wages were meant to cut through the crap and romanticism that surrounds wooden boat building. In the beginning I was a complete liability. But after a few months I did make decent wages because I stuck with it. I put my head down and did the work without complaining.

I learned a lot during that time, but didn’t really leave with the full experience of a boat builder since my training was directly related to my employer’s random contracts. I did go on to build an Aleutian kayak, more than ten birch bark canoes and one wooden wild rice harvesting boat. I also re-canvased a few wood canvas canoes on my own. But bark canoes and skin boats are not the same in regards to the construction methods and materials of a fully wooden boat.

Back in these formative days I read the classics by John Gardner, Pete Culler, Howard Chappelle and others. Of them, the Dory Book by Gardner captivated me. Through the 25 some years since I bought that book, I still pick it up and re-read it’s pages. And it takes me back to when I was a young man—inspired and obsessed about wooden boats and life in simpler times.

In 2020, Jazmin and I bought a 1980’s Oday Daysailer II. They have a cult following and are a classic in their own class of fiberglass trailerable sailboats.  Over the past 4 years Jazmin and I learned to sail on it and have had some fun adventures. But it’s become clear that it’s not the ideal boat for us. Some boat owners will read that with a smile. Is there ever an ideal boat or just the next one?

We loved this boat, but—the boat can’t be rowed effectively and it takes too much time to set up for short sailing trips.

One evening on our way back from Madeline Island—a small inhabited Island in the Cheqaumegon Bay—where we stopped for food and drink after spending the afternoon sailing around the bay. The Beach Club is an iconic place on “The Island” that has boat parking for customers coming from the mainland. I knew the Beach Club well as I had worked there two drunken and stoned summers in my early 20’s. Oh, do I have stories.

The wind died as we watched the sunset from the Beach Club. Previously, I had fitted the boat with oar locks and long oars for this particular occasion. (Later I fitted the boat with a small outboard motor—a purchase inspired by this very trip) I was naive in thinking that this boat, with it’s planing hull and 6’ beam could be rowed. It was terribly slow.

In a slight rant, I had calculated that it would take over 4 hours to get us back to the landing—something like 1 am. It was a blow to my ego and after my grumbling subsided into the task at hand (which it usually does) the wind picked up to a light breeze and we sailed back to our landing under a rising moon in just over an hour. It turned out to be a romantic and beautiful night.

Over time we found ourselves passing up the opportunity to take short sails even when the wind and weather was perfect in the bay. Rushing to the boat landing, rigging the boat which takes about 20 minutes, motoring out of the harbor—45-50 minutes at that point. Then we were finally sailing. After a 1 hour of being on the water we’d head back in. The time just didn’t add up. So we saved trips for the weekends when we had all day, but that reduced the number of days good for sailing. I wanted a boat that could get us on the water quickly without a second guess. Quick to rig and easy rowing instead of having to rely on an outboard motor.

I thought about the boats I saw in The Dory Book. Simple boats with simple rigs. Boats meant to row. Boats made of wood. And I decided to build a dory. I looked through my books and many line drawings (a type of plan for wooden boats) I settled on a design by the late Pete Culler. Capt’n Pete as he was known, is a legend in the wooden boat world—one of last of the old school traditionalists. And his dory design looked sweet.

planking complete

Last winter I lofted the boat (which I learned how to do all those years earlier) over a few days. Lofting is a way of drawing a full size boat in 3 perspectives—from above, in cross section, and from the side, from scaled down drawings called line drawings. The builder then uses those full size plans to build various parts of the boat. Then in the spring I started building it.

I worked on the boat in fits and starts with key stages of the process. First was assembling the bottom and framing (ribs) the boat. Dories are unique in that they are built using the frames as building molds. Then on to fairing the whole thing for planking. Then planking. After planking comes all the interior stuff, thwarts (seats), outer stem, mast steps, oar locks, etc…I ordered sail kits from Sailrite and Jazmin and I spent a few evenings sewing the sails. I also want to give a nod to both Gary Couch my old boss and buddy Josh Swan who gave advice and supplied all the wood for my boat.

The Pearl on christening day

Friends gathered for toast with rum

In late April I finished the boat. And in May we invited our friends to help celebrate and name it—The Pearl.

We’ve been rowing and sailing The Pearl all summer. And it’s what I had hoped. Easy to launch, rig, and fast under oar and sail. I would say to anyone who ever dreamed of building a boat….don’t wait 25 years.

A perfect day out on Lake Superior