There are happy yards and sad yards and the Port of Port Townsend’s Boatyard is one of the happy ones.
Oh, I don’t mean everyone is thrilled to be here. There are wrecks and disasters, people recovering from sinking and other myriad catastrophes, mired in insurance claims and backbreaking bills. But that may simply be a constant in the boating community in general.
No, I mean it’s the sort of place where folks nod to one another as they pass, strike up conversations when tools go down at lunch time, lend a hand when hands are too few to get that rudder lifted in place and hold it while it is secured.
The yard staff are quick with jokes and invariably helpful despite the blistering pace of work during the spring season… 16 to 18 boats in and out of the Travelift each day, on average, two 75-ton lifts shuttling back and forth between yard and water almost continuously, while the big, ponderous 300-ton monster trundles out from time to time for the really big hauls. You often hear “Shave and a Haircut” blipped out on the Travelift horns. These guys enjoy their jobs.
They remember the boats from season to season and their rigging is careful and conscientious despite their light-hearted manner. I’ve been here before but my boat hasn’t; the lift operator remarked that he didn’t think he’d seen her before but that she had lovely lines and he’d remember her the next time.
We chatted about strap placement and agreed on adjustments for the future… poorly-located transducers make Zia difficult to lift properly. CSR crushed the knotmeter paddlewheel at the survey haul-out. The Port Townsend guys noted with glee that they had just missed it.
“You guys are the best,” I tell them. “That’s what I always say.”
And it is what I always say.
Despite being busy, they gave me my choice of spots in the yard. I told them to surprise me, and they tucked me away into a nice, protected corner, convenient to hardware stores and bars, a rather empty precinct that nonetheless feels quite comfortable.
Port Townsend is a popular do-it-yourself hard so although people are busy, they’re not on the clock. Everyone is happy to put down their tools for a while to chat. It’s a great place to learn about boats and boat maintenance.
It’s good blister-drying weather. Sunshine and a brisk northwesterly, every afternoon, day after day… not Port Townsend in spring, surely. But here it is. Deer wander quietly through the forest of vessels as the morning sun casts long shadows off the masts.
Blisters are just one of many, many, many projects on my agenda. The mast comes out early on—the rigging needs replaced. All of it. And probably re-engineered, although it quickly becomes obvious that despite having more than a month out of the water, I won’t have nearly time enough to get to everything that needs to happen. Rigging can happen in the water… much of it probably will.
In the meantime, I get up, work, take a shower, go to bed.
In the shower, which takes only quarters, someone has left a penny on the floor, perhaps for luck.
I can use the luck, but also wouldn’t mind tidier facilities. The Boat Haven restrooms and showers, ostensibly coded, are in practice open almost all the time and serve as a sort of hygiene station for the many in Port Townsend who have living situations other than homes. This creates a rather funky air and despite the best efforts of the Port’s valiant cleaning staff, it’s more common than not to find the place in moderately foul condition. If possible, wheedling a code to the Point Hudson facilities and trekking to the other end of town to use those immaculate, spacious, classically tiled accommodations can provide a luxurious alternative every few days or so.
It’s also an excuse to stop work for a bit and enjoy Port Townsend itself. You run into friends on the street and they always offer to give you a lift, though the town is tiny and eminently walkable. Or they might show up at sunset to bang on your hull and ask for your help shifting a dinghy in exchange for a coconut-rootbeer float.
It’s a good deal and I took it.
The weather can’t last but, hopefully, neither can the blisters.