Assessing the Vessel
40’ of fibreglass balsa cored hull. She was decent. Sound. But in need of a refit. Not a wreck but more than just cosmetic. The reality of what I had signed up for began to dawn on me.
The vessel was in good shape at a glance. A closer inspection revealed no soft spots on the deck saying rotten core, but lots of cracks in the gel coat, some deep gouges on the topsides telling the story of a brawl with a pier or buoy or something sharp, hard and immovable.
The masts seemed solid. Tall and proud carbon fibre, freestanding with no shrouds to hold them up. With the sails, tattered and bleached, surrendered to the deck like the forgotten flags of a defeated army. The electrical and mechanical system was a labyrinth of past owners installing, fixing, and improving. No doubt some of the repairs are good, some of them not, and all worn by time. I didn’t even know where to start.
Drawing Inspiration from History
Each issue suggested hours of untangling someone else’s intentions. I felt a mix of excitement and dread. This wasn't just maintenance; it was a puzzle, each piece hinting at a larger story of the sea. And all of it nibbled at my confidence that I would be able to pull it off. Like so many projects before you start.
But this I knew.
Just start.
My Friend Arthur
I was in my late 20s. Arthur was coming up for 50. We knew each other from Aikido. We went up through the ranks together, yellow, green, blue and brown belt. His goal was to get his black belt before he was 50. He did, but that's another story.
This story was how a messy divorce made him free to sail four or five of the Seven Seas. By the time the smallholding had been sold, all the stuff sold off, his ex-wife had taken most of it, he had enough to buy a 27' steel fixxer upper sloop. Good bones but needed a lot of work. A bit like all of us.
I had a joinery and he moved the boat and parked it outside my fire escape. What was his plan? A long winter of work, splash it in spring, set off to the Med and then? Then the Suez Canal and go east.
Not much but that was the plan.
The work took about 100% longer than he estimated. It always does. The splash was delayed. It always is. In October, way too late in the season, we sailed across the stormy Bay of Biscay. But that's another story.
Echoes of Courage
Joshua Slocum was 51 when he got hold of an old boat called Spray in 1893. As I remember the tale, she was an old rotting hulk and I saw an etching where she was under a tree. Seems fitting. He rebuilt her over three years and sailed around the world for three years, the stuff of legends. Deep inside every man simple things lurk. They all would choose to be a wolf. They would all want to be Jack London. They all would want to sail around the world like Slocum.
He had been a captain of sailing ships. He was down on his luck. He got hold of a boat. What he wanted to do had never been done. No one had sailed around the world solo. He would have had doubts. Just a few.
At 51, Slocum took on the Spray, a decrepit sloop, and over three transformative years, he rebuilt her from the keel up.
In the tapestry of maritime restoration, Joshua Slocum and Arthur, though separated by a century, share the thread of a skinny plan, courage and labour.
Navigating the Challenges
This was more than physical labour; the rebuild of Spray would have tested his courage and resolve every day. Every plank refitted, and every seam resealed brought not just restoration to the vessel but also invaluable lessons in resilience and innovation for Slocum. He would have been tested here as much as when facing vast, solitary stretches of ocean.
Arthur’s journey, though less historic, echoes a similar theme. Emerging from personal loss and upheaval, he invested his energies into restoring a boat—a literal and metaphorical rebuilding of his life. The process was riddled with challenges, each one an opportunity to learn something new about boats, and more significantly, about himself.
The Path of Transformation
These narratives highlight the powerful intersection of personal transformation and hands-on education. Both men didn’t just rebuild boats; they crafted new chapters of their lives, guided by the trials and errors of their endeavours. Their stories underscore a profound truth: sometimes the best learning comes not from formal education but from diving headfirst into the depths of challenging projects, and it gets overwhelming. Embarking on the restoration of my boat, Beyond, felt like setting sail on a clear day, with heavy dark clouds on the horizon. Each task I undertook, simple at the outset, quickly revealed layers of complexity.
Finding Resilience
For every two steps forward—a hull freshly painted, a deck sealed—I found myself sailing over one wave, only to be pushed back by the next one, as new challenges surfaced: hidden rot, a mysterious leak, outdated systems that needed modern replacements. As my journey with Beyond progressed, the scope of work didn't just grow—it exploded. What started as a manageable series of tasks became a daunting, ever-expanding list. This wasn’t just about patching up and painting; it was about confronting a myriad of issues that each fix unearthed.
And Then The Mockers
Every project has to have them. They rock up and stand and gaze at the boat, at you working, and say nothing. Then they ask a question. And before you know it you are trying to explain what you are doing and why.
It sounds stupid, even to yourself. You can tell they have views, criticisms, judgements. When they saunter away you know they are shaking their heads at you and your madness.
The Triumph of Perseverance
The deeper I delved, the more problems I encountered, turning my venture into a test of perseverance and patience. Living by the adage "two steps forward, one step back," I felt both the thrill of progress and the frustration of setbacks.
And you chuckle and laiugh. Keeping a sense of humour has also been crucial. Facing the relentless setbacks with a laugh—mocking the devil of despair lurking in each unexpected problem—helps lighten the burden.
Saltheart Foamfollower vanquished Lord Foul, not by being a giant but by laughing at him.
Laugh at your madness. Laugh at the folly of it all. It's a super power.
Lessons from the Sea
Laughter becomes a life raft in the ocean of tasks, reminding me not to take the setbacks too seriously or let them steal the joy of the process. If it's funny later, it's funny now. Any difficult journey is undeniably character-forming. With each challenge met and overcome, you grow more resilient and more adept at facing adversity—not just in boat restoration but in life. Embrace the unknown. Find a yourself a mad foolhardy adventure, listen to that small voice inside that wants it, and decide to do it. Help will come to you from unexpected places and people.
Go Beyond fear. Angels will appear.
Now available in our store, a T-shirt to remind you to not take it all so seriously. Have a laugh and go Beyond. Click here to buy.
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