NO SHORTCUTS

Mighta. Shoulda. Coulda. Woulda. Gotta.

Janice Anne Wheeler Apr 5

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Bastardizing the American English language is really not my game; I tend to manipulate and over-describe rather than combine and shorten. But I couldn’t pull any terms out of my, um, repertoire, that described the situation any better than these shortcuts which frankly, get the point across damn well. I’ve had a British associate or two tell me we Americans bastardized a whole lot of their language anyway, so I figured, might as well keep on goin’…

And why, you may wonder, are such crude shortcuts in order? I arrived at STEADFAST’s substantial aft end last week and got quite a flashback. Or a couple of them, actually. The photo on the left was taken in September of 2024. The other one was taken this week. Sigh. Thought we were done? Looks pretty similar. Well, we mighta stripped that section last year. Mighta known it was gonna need it. Coulda, woulda, shoulda done something differently? No, not really.

The reality is that STEADFAST’s port side, (left facing the bow) is full-on southern exposure in a part of the northern hemisphere which gets some intense sun, in fact, three-quarters of the year it shines directly on those surfaces and, ironically, far less in the steaming summer months. Her near-century old planks (and some newer ones) didn’t stand a chance against Mother Nature’s solar array, nor did the caulking holding them together, even under half a dozen layers of enamel paint. Our very real concern is those materials cannot recover from so much sun and not enough sea; they need a fresh seal, re-caulking in maritime terms, which is quite a process. As often happens, our best protection from nature’s power wasn’t good enough, and over time her planks have dried and shrunk just enough to separate and be dangerous. Wooden boats are designed to be in the water to remain watertight— if the build is proper, the planks expand perfectly to squeeze the caulk, just enough but not too much, creating a seal. Click the story link below or peruse a (very) brief explanation as to what’s gotta happen next. THERE ARE NO SHORTCUTS.

HIGH COTTON Janice Anne Wheeler   ·   December 8, 2024 Read full story

We braced ourselves and dug in; there is no point in taking chances, compromising quality or cutting corners now. If you’ve been subscribed since the beginning of SPARRING (originally designed to be a wooden boat sailing and travel journal—you never know where life will take you…), feel free to skip to the next divider line or stay and get a refresh.

Many of you found STEADFAST after these crucial tasks were completed on the balance of the (above-water) hullsides. We also had to Caulk every inch of the 32 new planks on the bow, stem and knee. Somewhere I calculated that we completed all eight time-consuming, meticulous steps on approximately three-quarters of a mile, or 1650 meters of seam. Just today, we reefed, pounded and sealed 300+ on the starboard aft quarter seen above.

OK—the Caulking process; STEADFAST was extensively rebuilt in Puerto Rico in the 1980s by a very passionate and equally crazy Sailor who reads my words each week. His seal has lasted forty+ years and that’s impressive; some of this new work would not even need to be done if we hadn’t run into the lengthy rebuild which we are immersed in. After removing that old seam material (a process called reefing, another one of those maritime terms that has too many meanings, IMHO), the multi-step Caulking task consists of brushing on two protective coats of boiled linseed oil and turpentine in equal parts; my favorite boatbuilding aroma, seriously appealing to the forest lover in me, I suppose. After that tonic, some perfectly pounded fresh, soft, pure cotton strands (nothing man-made works as well), as many as three rows if the existing cannot be saved, are inserted and tucked firmly with iron and mallet. If I do say, we’re a hell of a lot more efficient at it than we used to be, but it was dejà vu like I’ve never experienced to be back to doing things I thought were completed months ago.

Then it is protected with red lead paint, from George Kirby Jr Paint Company in New Bedford, Massachusetts, where, coincidentally, a hundred and twenty years ago, William Hand Jr was designing beautiful, diverse boats, eventually reaching Design #608: our number, which can be found in the Massachusetts’ Institute of Technology archives. And Mr Hand still wasn’t even close to being done conjuring seagoing vessels.

When we first hauled out, July 2024, we had no idea what we were in for. OK, let’s rephrase. I had no idea what I was in for and the Sailor had a better idea but still no true grasp because STEADFAST’s problem was insidious. One of my favorite words, learned long ago from my treasured Grandma Pearl.

By early August, while experts were assessing the bow structure, I set about stripping her lovely transom, whose teak had been replaced in the 1980s rebuild. I also took at least a dozen coats off the highest of her hullsides, the steel gray color above that kick-ass bronze rubrail, stripping down to bare planks.

We had noticed and noted that some of the seams in that region had become just a little too loose for comfort. It was a tad disconcerting to see daylight out through one of the seams on the aft port side. Thinking we would simply take advantage of our four months or so out of the water prior to heading to the Bahamas in the fall of 2024, we naively thought we were killing two birds with one stone when in fact there was a giant flock to be addressed and managed. Unforeseeably giant. Ah, the best laid plans become those with no shortcuts.

One of the most stunning displays of power I have seen in a long time occurred here on April 1st. A very warm, windy day proceeded a slow-moving cold front with show-stopping lightning, wind and rain; as I write this two mornings later we are still socked in by fog, every surface dripping, unable to work on what needs to be done. Back to this appropriate expression:

THE BEST LAID PLANS Janice Anne Wheeler   ·   September 8, 2024 Read full story

They go awry, those plans, but I firmly believe that eventually things fall into place and happen as they should. STEADFAST and her crew found a place to call home for two years with a group of kind, kindred spirits the likes of which I have rarely encountered.

This week SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE enters its third year and I was inspired to look back on my first few pieces. They detail the devastation wreaked by Hurricane Dorian on Marsh Harbour, Abaco, Bahamas; the first is entitled IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE. Those resilient individuals experienced a battle for life, not merely a spar, and STEADFAST was there, three years afterwards, listening to the stories and watching a painfully slow recovery. The balance of the pieces I produce are likewise stimulated by moments in time, characters and considerations. I find this platform and my reader interactions incredibly rewarding even if it is not monetarily so.

The name of this publication came to me in the spring of 2023 when we rounded Cape Hatteras in a considerable sea state, under full sail, and STEADFAST’s impressive rigging went slack. Even if you’re not a sailor you can intone how bad that might be, right? It was bone-chilling. Since masts are also known as SPARS, and we were in for remarkable jousts that summer and beyond which seem to have become contiguous, endless even, the title was born. It’s what all of us do every day, at least to some extent. That multi-faceted story was published in WoodenBoat Magazine (limited access) here. Mother Nature is the most predominant force on the planet and some humans think she can be conquered, tamed and harvested without harm nor foul. I don’t agree.

While SPARRING’s topics deviate, the fascinating, resource-consuming world of wooden boat construction and ownership has taught this mountain and desert dweller innumerable things. Not the least of which is patience. There’s no point in considering what Mighta Shoulda Coulda Woulda. The thing that matters is what ya gotta. ~J

See you here next week! Please restack this post so my community continues to reach water and nature lovers; we currently have subscribers from 36 nations. Along those lines, I am posting casual, imperfect, work-site videos on our YACHTING STEADFAST channel in order to document what has become a worthy, educational project.

Saving our piece of maritime history is a daunting task.

And more on Category 5 Hurricane Dorian, September 2019.

IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE

Janice Anne Wheeler   ·   April 7, 2024

There is no greater natural force on earth than a Category 5 Hurricane. Dorian made landfall on the afternoon of September 1, 2019, at Elbow Cay, Abaco, Bahamas, and proceeded directly across the small but bustling city of Marsh Harbour; the utter destruction is still evident. In a never-before seen track, the storm struck with 185mph winds, rain and a …

Read full story

© 2026 Janice Anne Wheeler
Living aboard Sailing Yacht STEADFAST again soon!
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