The Beginning of a Dream

In whatever part of the human Psyche dreams are born and grow to maturity, my Father and I shared a common dream. We dreamt along with thousands of others, who are a minority among those who dream but never even take a first step toward the vision they have in their minds. Our dream was realized in it's infancy when we bought a neglected ferrocement hull, that was wasting away among weeds and rusting junk. Clearly it was once part of someone's dream, created from high expectation but soon discarded by cold cruel reality. To look at her in this state required the creativity and illusion of a dream. To transform this, 42 foot junk of concrete, bare inside with the exception of dust and an old refrigerator, piled up moth eaten blankets where someone slept and lived among various wooden forms bristling with rusty nails, into the stately beautiful boat she was meant to be, running before the wind, and carrying us to far off exotic places required imagination of the highest degree.

It was a start and we eagerly begun the task of shaping her into what we perceived to be her shining promise. To look back now, alot of accomplishments were realized totally upon guesswork and lady luck. Inexperienced and naive we fitted her in Florida with a 471 GM Diesel, far larger than she was designed for. The incompetence of the yard where the work was done, was felt in long delays, inflation of original cost and resulted in the exhaust run through a side porthole and the steering post installed backwards with the hub of the wheel pointed toward the bow. In order to steer one had to reach around the podium or continually be looking over a shoulder.

Nevertheless relieved just to have the hassles behind us we undertook adventure of motoring her across the Gulf of Mexico. Completely bare below. no port lights, one small cheap compass and no hatches, I think we proved the old adage of 'only baby's and fools.' Steering backwards was accomplished at an odd angle indeed and many a time the helmsman would be roped to the post in order to not be swept over the side in a rising sea, with no masts she was one rolly polly craft! The gods were with us in our improbable floating rock, diesel drums strapped to the forepeak, mastless and comfortless we made landfall within one mile of our dead reckoning of the Inter coastal waterway. From there into Lafayette Louisiana was comparatively easy and thus started our beginning.

For six years our dream took shape, being created from my Father's mind and hands. We found mahogany, Walnut, Cypress which took form and usefulness. I don't think my Father really knew what he was doing until he had done it. His hands would touch the wood, and they would automatically start moving with a mind of their own. There are things that do need to be planned I'm sure, access to the engine, fuel tanks, storage space, and safety features. All this was done without conscious thought it was what my Father's idea what a boat ought to be, even if had never even sailed a foot much less the thousands of miles that we passed under the keel in our heads. Everything was made 100-200% more than adequate, it was big, massive and strong. The 17 ft bowsprit came to us disguised as a fir log. It was cured under the house and then lovingly carved by hand. It was also the butt of numerous people's Phallic senses of humor.

As the years flew by it was hard to remember sitting in it's dusty bilge, wary of rusty nails poking through the rotting concrete forms, imagining the creak of the rigging in a freshening breeze, clank of halyards at anchor. As the soft luminous sheen of beautiful and freshly timbered hardwood transformed the Aphrodite into a living breathing entity with a soul. It was given life thru our love and tender care. She became a showplace of my Father's unorthodox craftsmanship.

We stepped the masts in Fairhope Alabama, deviating from the scanty plans that we had because of a gut feeling. Sails were made and we were finally sailing her for the first time. Our baby never learned to walk, she could fly! Even with our bumbling and many mistakes, she was forgiving, which was a good thing, we had never sailed before. Although we did not exactly fit in with the yachting crowd there in Fairhope, the people were warm and enthusiastic about my Father's approach to sailing. Also maybe a little envious as I believe that they sensed that we were doing something that was wonderful and exciting, something that they will only dream and never do. We made some lasting friends. Our trip back to Louisiana, under sail this time, was a mini voyage, complete with thunderstorms, treacherous navigation thru oil fields and close encounters of the shipping kind. We loved it.

We still had alot of work to do, but now we could spend our vacations sailing and learning. We experienced the thrill of having the rail under, and the pleasures of watching the setting of the setting sun on blue water. We also found out about dragging anchor, running aground, and engine trouble. Yes, it really was what we thought it would be

Finally it was time, the Aphrodite was ready, the dream was real, it was going to happen! We cast of our ties to the 'Real' world, say our farewells and before we know it we are under sail, the water is blue and we are heading on a course for the Yucatan Channel and Belize. But that is another story.