Boat Review – 1940 Sparkman and Stephens S/V Flying Gull

Below is our original review of this boat. We eventually decided we liked the boat enough to make an offer on it. Alas, we had to walk away after the survey showed structural issues that felt at the time like they were beyond our financial means to fix at the price we had offered. We wish it had turned out differently.  Please see our follow up articles on this boat here and here.

But aye, old mast, we both grow old together, sound in our hulls, though, are we not, my ship?  Aye, minus a leg, that’s all. By heaven this dead wood has the better of my live flesh every way. I can’t compare with it; and I’ve known some ships made of dead trees outlast the lives of men made of the most vital stuff of vital fathers. -Captain Ahab to his Pequod

When we were asked to write a review of a 55 foot, 73 year old wooden ketch we imagined an enjoyable afternoon poking around on an historic vessel. We certainly did not entertain the notion that we would ever want a boat this old, this big or this organic. But after two hours on Flying Gull and many more hours researching this boat, we have fallen hard for this ship.

History of the Flying Gull

Sparkman and Stephens Design 247 aka Flying Gull (Courtesy, Sparkman & Stephens)

Sparkman and Stephens Design 247 aka Flying Gull (Courtesy, Sparkman & Stephens)

Flying Gull’s story begins in 1938 when Mr. John Simpson of Chicago and the United States Navy commissioned Sparkman & Stephens to design, and the Grebe Shipyard, Chicago to build, a 55′ pilothouse ketch (S&S design 247) which Mr. Simpson named “AWAB” (All Women Are Beautiful?). She was launched June 1, 1940 in the Great Lakes, but from 1942 through 1945 she was pressed into service by the Navy patrolling both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts as a submarine recon vessel. Of her daring war adventures, we have this note from Lee Youngblood, of Gig Harbor Yacht Sales.

On her inaugural cruise, as a “Hollywood” boat she found the first sub off Long Island.  With it’s location noted, a plane dropped a depth charge, one down.  Outside the Panama Canal lurked the rest of the Nazi sub fleet, waiting to block the Pacific Forces supply chain.  Seems liked this boat practically saved the war effort, identifying 27 subs, I think, for sinking.   They threw everything that could carry a depth charge at them, from planes to little sport boats, and kept the canal open.  The Navy still won’t talk about the technology Flying Gull was towing., classified. . .(As stories go, this is a dandy. We’d love to take the time to check out all the facts, and if we owned the boat, we surely would.)

 After the war, the boat returned to Chicago where she stayed in the Great Lakes area until 1959 when Mr. Simpson commissioned another similar vessel and sold “AWAB” to Mr F. Ritter Shumway of Rochester, New York. Mr. Shumway renamed her “Flying Gull” and kept her until 1992. He always had full-time paid captains and took the boat to the Lake Huron area almost every summer. “Flying Gull” was purchased from the Shumway estate in 1993. Since 1994 she lived in New York, with some refurbishing and upgrades and remained in storage until 2004, when she was moved to Seattle. Her restoration and upgrades continue this day.

Sail Plan (Courtesy Sparkman & Stephens)

Sail Plan (Courtesy Sparkman & Stephens)

As the sail plan above shows, Flying Gull is equipped as a ketch rig.  The club footed staysail together with a mizzen mast make this a very versatile sail plan, that will allow her crew to put up the right amount of canvas for a variety of wind conditions. Of course the added complexity of her rig and the extra strings that are available to be tweaked might be viewed by some as more effort than it is worth. For local cruising, that might be true and in such cases, the main and foresail would suffice. But for extended voyaging, such flexibility is quite desirable.

Accommodations and Cabin Layout (Courtesy Sparkman & Stephens)

Accommodations and Cabin Layout (Courtesy Sparkman & Stephens)

The design of Flying Gull appears to have been dedicated to two purposes; a luxury motor sailing yacht and a fully functional naval patrol boat. Her accommodations today lean much more heavily towards the luxury part of these specifications but one can’t help but feel the history embedded in the very grain of her hull. With a large navigation station just steps away from the inside helm, it’s not hard to hear the voices of the sailors who manned those stations, keeping watch over the seas; dedicated to keeping home and country safe while this boat did her part in protecting them.

Beautiful details

Well designed boats, like historic houses, are timeless in their appeal. Flying Gull is a masterpiece of classic lines and thoughtful design. Somehow Sparkman and Stephens were able to find just the right balance between grace and practicality, even in the addition of a deckhouse, which is usually a deal breaker in terms of artistic design on a sailboat.  Visitors get a glimpse of the quality workmanship represented in this boat as soon as they step onto the builder’s plate.

Builder’s plate, added after the name was changed.

Melissa and a self tailing Barient winch

Comely Wenches

Because the boat had a full canvas cover in place when we saw her, it was difficult to make our way above deck and hard to get a good feel for the dimensions of this boat. We would love to see it again without the cover.  The cockpit, while generous, is not overly large and offers good seating and storage in several lazarettes. There is a locking wooden chest forward in the cockpit, giving a secure place to stow small items. Melissa noticed right away that the safety lines and stanchions are substantial and come all the way up to her hip.

As we climbed around the cockpit, opening lazarettes and getting the general feel of that area, Melissa tried to do the right thing by focusing on the deck of the boat, noticing things like the beautifully varnished mizzen mast and boom, and the juxtaposition of authentic blocks and newer ones in the rigging; things she is supposed to care about. But really, she just wanted to go below and look at the interior. Everyone knew it, but we all played the game. Fortunately, the door to the deckhouse was the next thing that beckoned and we stepped into a room with a view! This is when our hearts began to soften.

If the canvas were off, you'd get a better picture of the beauty of this deckhouse.

If the canvas were off, you’d get a better picture of the beauty of this deckhouse. The carpet is easily removed.

Looking forward at the steering station.

Looking forward at the steering station.

Truly it is impossible to appreciate the amount of light and space this deckhouse offers with the full canvas in place. Usually in a situation where you have a boat that has a completely enclosed ‘pilothouse’, the design of the boat suffers markedly both visually and in terms of sailing performance. Apparently that is not the case with this boat. Because you go down several steps into this area, the coach roof can remain low, close to the deck on the outside, enhancing the boat’s lines rather than detracting from them. And you still get this wonderful 360 degree view. We wonder if this was the Navy’s idea.  If this boat had literally nothing else to offer, the idea of having a boat that sails well AND offers all weather protection, plus a great place to socialize or just relax, would make this boat a winner. Melissa is always whining about being cold unless it is literally 75 degrees outside and breezy, conditions that the Pacific Northwest gets about 2 days out of the year. This would completely solve that problem. For offshore adventures, the addition of plywood covers for these expansive windows would be a necessity. If the weather turned ugly, you would definitely want to protect against breakage and possible down-flooding. On the starboard side of the companionway in the deckhouse is the excellent access to the electrical system.

This is a lot of wires, but Mike is impressed.

Never shy about poking her nose into nooks and crannies in boats, Melissa immediately began lifting up the carpet this area and, like any good snoop, noticed that the floor was meant to be removed in large panels. She was disappointed to discover that rather than large piles of pirate gold and liquor, what lurked beneath was a huge diesel engine and the rest of the boat systems. Mike and Lee were good sports, removing the panels, which are heavy, and stowing them before MIke popped below into what had become a pretty decent engine room.

Mike says he would add a short ladder to make getting into the engine room less of a safety issue.

Mike says he would add a short ladder to make getting into the engine room less of a safety issue. Photo by Lee Youngblood

The engine required a little research on our part because it looked like it might be the orginal engine on this 73 year old boat. Our research showed that this is not a bad thing! This is a Buda 6tmr468 diesel engine and one sailing forum we read had someone referring to this as the ‘nirvana’ of diesel engines for sailboats. We don’t know if that’s an over statement, but it’s worth noting that you can still buy parts from Buda Engine down in Louisiana. We can get really sucked in doing the research thing, and if you are an astute reader you will notice how completely engaged we are with this boat already. In the engine room is also access to the generator.

Everyone needs one of these.

Aft of the deckhouse and down one step is the amazing owner’s cabin. We have deemed it the Ricky and Lucy room because there are two nice berths (rather than one large centerline queen)  separated by an equally nice built in dresser and mirror. (And if you are scratching your head about that TV reference, you are too young to appreciate this boat.)  Both berths are captains bunks and have drawers below. The cabin has plenty of headroom and feels like an actual room, not something the designer felt he had to squeeze in to appeal to the masses. This is no ‘floating condo’.  The light fixtures may be original to the boat, and they work.

Owner’s quarters, photo via Boat Trader

Melissa spent a lot of time exclaiming over the cabinetry, the storage space, and the overall quality of workmanship inherent in boats from this period in history. The hanging locker in this cabin has almost as much space as her side of the closet at home. There is room for many pairs of shoes on this boat. Alert readers will remember that our v-berth on Moonrise is very important to Melissa. On our next boat, a comfortable owner’s cabin with a large berth is one of her ‘requirements’. Suffice to say that after seeing this cabin,  the Ricky and Lucy model  doesn’t seem so bad to her and her ‘requirement’ just became more flexible. That’s a dangerous thought.

This is not just a hanging locker. It's a proper closet.

This is not just a hanging locker. It’s a proper closet.

It’s worth noting that this vessel was designed during a time when not many women went cruising with their men. It was considered a ‘man’s world’ and boats were designed for men, not couples. Not even male couples. It makes perfect sense that the owner’s cabin would have twin bunks rather than a large bunk meant for more than one person. To change this would detract from the overall historical feel of this boat, so we would not change it one bit. This cabin also has a full sized head with a stand up shower. There is plenty of room in the head and generous storage, not to mention an amazing teak and holly sole.

This head is also convenient to the deckhouse.

This head is also convenient to the deckhouse.

An adorable corner sink.

An adorable corner sink.

This Owner’s Cabin is separated from the rest of the boat by the deck house. We know from our research that the second owner of this boat, who owned it the longest, had a paid captain when he took the boat out. We imagine that this boat Captain would have had the cabin on the other side of the deck house, just down a few steps. A thick steel handrail insures safe passage into this cabin from the deck house and one steps down into a cabin that is really a multipurpose room or additional saloon. To starboard is a large navigation station that would make a very good office desk in addition to its stated purpose. There is plenty of storage and the writing surfaces are wide and accommodating. To port there is a settee which doubles as a sea berth. The beautiful folding table is also in this area.

Companionway to below.

 

Great nav station and desk. Photo via Boat Trader

In this photo you see the seaberth and drawers, including large drawers for chart storage, above the L-shaped settee. If this were the only salon on this boat, it might not work very well. But the real salon is likely to be that wheel house with the 360 degree view. And it’s heated and has a thermostat!

map drawers with berth above, settee below. Beautiful.

Chart drawers with berth above, settee below. Beautiful. Photo by Lee Youngblood.

The dining table is small by today’s standards where the expectation is that you will somehow want to feed 8 people on your boat. Frankly, that’s pretty unlikely to happen in our world. This table is about the same size as the one we have on Moonrise and it works very well. Also, considering that on many boats the table does double duty as a desk. On this one, that would not be the case. Anyway, you could easily feed 8 people in that wheelhouse if you were so inclined.

Salon berth and super storage. Photo via Boat Trader

We love a fold down table. This one has a wine glass rack inside.

We love a fold down table. This one has a wine glass rack inside. Photo by Lee Youngblood.

Beautiful, huge storage locker.

Beautiful, huge storage locker. Photo by Lee Youngblood

Storage in main cabin.

Once again, this boat does not disappoint in terms of the storage aboard. Forward of the navigation area is a large cabinet with shelving. This cabinet, as well as many others aboard, has been supplied with lighting that turns on when the door is opened and off when you shut the door. Call us crazy, but that is an awesome idea. Continuing forward, to port is the second head, and opposite that is another large storage cabinet. This head has no shower, but it does come with something that is a real blast from the past: a urinal! More quality fixtures and more storage further define this space. Melissa was almost out of her mind about this boat by this time, and we hadn’t even seen the galley yet. Maybe it was the urinal that pushed her over the edge.

Who needs a second shower on board when you can have one of these?

Continuing forward is the galley. On a boat this size, you get to have more than just a corner for the galley. You get the entire small room, with enough counter space to actually chop vegetables. This galley has a double sink, two burner propane stove, and a trash compactor. Many is the time we wished for a trash compactor on Moonrise, usually about the second week into our extended vacation.  It also has a front-opening fridge/freezer unit that would really be nice for people who lived aboard.

Freezer on the left, fridge on the right. Nice!

Photo by Lee Youngblood

It looks like the owner may be in the middle of some projects in the galley area. One of the projects he did in this area is to put battens on the ceiling. This is very well done, with beautiful bronze screws and backings.

Ceiling in galley.

The fear is that Melissa will look on this galley as the ‘standard’ to which she would like to become accustomed. So much counter space for prep work! So much fridge/freezer space! And that trash compactor. This is not your usual ‘boat galley’. This is a small ship galley. Finally we came to the forward cabin. Not having ever been on a boat this large, it felt like a bit of a trek from the wheel house to this forward cabin. There is a single berth with storage, an upholstered seat with storage, and more storage for the anchor rode.

The chain rode is stored aft of the very front of the boat. There is great storage, again, in this area and the berth is a comfortable size for one person. There is a seat/storage to starboard. As we were discussing this boat, we decided that if we bought this boat ourselves (one can dream!) we would consider making this forward cabin into a workbench area. Our son, Andrew, could have the main salon as his cabin, and when Claire came to visit, we would clear out the forward cabin and restore it to a berth area. See how that works? There is room for our entire family in this boat.

What a Windlass!

Going on deck for a look was difficult because of the full canvas cover, but we managed to tunnel our way to the foredeck . First things first: we were so stunned by the sheer size of the massive windlass that we decided to start at the front of the boat where there are two big anchors riding on rollers at the end of the bowsprit. Now, this is a 55 foot boat, so we expected all of the equipment to reflect this size. But even so, the windlass took our breath away.  This piece of machinery, built by American Engineering Company, is likely to be original to the boat.

The incredible hulk.

The windlass is electric, using a 32 volt electric motor, but may have a manual setting. This windlass is, itself, a piece of  history. The company was founded in 1857 in Rhode Island under the name American Ship Windlass Company. They became known for their well crafted capstans and windlasses. After moving to Philadelphia in the early part of the 20th century, the company changed the name to American Engineering Company and began manufacturing other marine equipment such as steering parts. Over the years companies bought and sold each other, moved to other states, and all that stuff, but at the end of the day, the company that was once American Ship Windlass Company is still making windlasses for the Navy. Does this mean that parts are still available for this windlass? We don’t know. But this piece of equipment was built at a time that things were built right, and built to last. If it needs repair, we bet it can be done. If we bought this boat, we would remove the windlass and have it completely refurbished, including removing the layers of paint and refinishing the metal. and refitting the motor with a more common 24 volt system. She would be a work of industrial art.

Builder’s plate on the windlass.

Looking aft one can see the extensive amount of wood on this boat. Well, this IS, after all, a wooden boat. Originally this boat had a teak deck and we all know how troublesome those can be on some boats. This one has already had the teak removed and the deck has been finished with a nonskid surface. We expect that potential future owners will need to have a healthy love of wood and working on wood. But you already knew that.

This is an older photo from the boat trader ad. Note the hull color is now white.

Peeking underneath the canvas hatch protectors revealed that there is some work to be done refinishing the wood, and possibly rebedding the glass. Including the beautiful butterfly hatch, they all appear to be finished with Melissa’s personal boat wood finishing nemesis: the old kind of Cetol. She hates this stuff and when you see the photo of the hatch below, you’ll see why. Lee Youngblood assures us that there is a new clear Cetol that is much better and that, in his experience, wears very well. These hatches would be properly stripped and then we would probably try that new stuff. We are nothing if not well versed in stripping and refinishing wood.

Forward hatch

Beautiful butterfly hatch, photo by Lee Youngblood.

Beautiful butterfly hatch, photo by Lee Youngblood.

One thing we love about this deck is the sheer size of it. There is so much room! We have visions of deck chairs, hammocks, fake grass with plastic flowers… you know the drill. This boat is so beautiful everyone will want to come on board to see it. Fortunately, there will be room for a party on this deck if that’s what you are into.

As a ketch rig, this boat has two masts. The masts are original to the boat and are hollow spruce, painted white. Both masts were pulled last spring and were refinished, re-stepped, and sealed with Spartite. Nice! The sails, which we were unable to view, may be a bit tired but are likely to be serviceable. Halyards are external to the mast.

Initially we weren’t sure about that kind of setup, but that’s just because we are inexperienced with it. Melissa makes the point that with the external halyard system, what you see is what you get. It’s straightforward and changing the halyard is not likely to be the exercise in frustration that it was when we gave our Cal34, Moonrise, a new one. All other things being equal, raising the sail is raising the sail. If the equipment works well, why change it? The equipment on this boat is a fascinating and artful combination of classic and new.

Mizzen sheet block. Beautiful!

 

External halyard system on main mast.

The more modern blocks simply cannot match the beauty and simplicity of these tried and true designs, or the warmth of wood.

At the end of the tour, we were completely sprung on this boat, scrambling in our brains to ask ourselves how we could possibly afford to buy it; struggling with the inevitable agony of the head/heart splitting that occurs when something appears in your life that feels really good but you know you are completely unprepared for. Yes, it’s true that we can get sprung on many boats. This is very true. We’ve seen other boats that we’ve certainly liked, other boats that made our hearts beat faster and that we fantasized about. We still, for instance, love that Westerly that is languishing alone and abandoned up in Blaine.

But unlike other boats we’ve looked at, we both agree that this boat feels like there is life in its very fibers, waiting to be lived, just underneath the surface of the patina of her old wood. Some boats simply wait. This boat breathes and sleeps and waits. No one will ever ‘own’ this boat as the consciousness in this hull will never belong to any one person. The buyer of this boat will be a caretaker, a steward of a living, breathing piece of American Maritime History. flyinggullsign References and Links

 

Seriousness

It’s the last weekend of my much-needed three week break from work. The menfolk are up in Bellingham doing projects on Danger Kitten and getting Andrew settled in for the second quarter of the academic year, so I have the house all to myself. I know what you are thinking: “She is going to lay around in her pajamas all day, eating bonbons, playing games on the Wii,  maybe have a spa day, sleep in the middle of the bed, and in general, act like a sloth. She probably won’t even make the bed or shower.”  But you would be wrong. Oh, so very, very wrong.

Yes, that is what I would LIKE to be doing, but that’s not how things actually work when we’ve just re-listed our sailboat with the broker just down the waterway from us, and when we are now getting to understand what it is to experience ‘seriousness’ in the little matter of selling said beloved boat. When those things begin to happen, there is no rest for the wicked.

Thus I have spent this afternoon taking everything ‘personal’ off the boat. And except for the engine parts and sails that are staying, that means pretty much everything on the boat had to go. And I am the only one available to move it.

There is so much stuff on this boat!

There is so much stuff on this boat! We’re talking 8 trips to the car with a loaded cart.

As I began taking things out of storage spaces, cabinets, out from under bunks, I began to realize that until now, we really had made no serious effort to make this boat attractive to another person. Maybe even though we were serious about selling her, we weren’t serious about letting someone else have her, you know? Sure, we cleaned her up, finished some projects Mike wanted to complete, had taken a lot of things home already and all that, but even so, anyone looking at Moonrise must surely have felt like they were looking at a boat that still ‘belonged’ to someone else, not a boat that could be theirs. It’s a little hard to put into words, and I certainly know nothing about the psychology of selling anything, but I’m imagining that anyone looking at this boat would have had trouble seeing past the fact that we were still really actively using it! Maybe it felt like the boat wasn’t really ‘available’, like she was still going steady with us; we hadn’t quite broken it off with her.  I mean, we still had her outfitted where we could take off at a moment’s notice. How could potential buyers picture themselves in that boat when it was not a blank canvas waiting for them to fill in the details? 20130104_4

When we originally listed Moonrise with Lee, the broker we know up in Seattle, he had told us to take ‘everything personal’ off the boat, and we thought we understood him. But I don’t think we really did. It’s not that he didn’t say it right, it’s just that probably we weren’t ready to hear it, and at that point we were sailing her all the time because it was summer. This time, we’re listing with a broker in the same waterway as us, because she is local and can show the boat and work the selling of it actively. It makes sense, and we’re in a different place in our plan. If we don’t get this show on the road, we won’t have enough time to get the new boat paid for and outfitted before we want to leave. We’re not exactly trust fund babies, after all. So when Sue said, “You may as well get everything you want off the boat.”, we heard it differently. “Everything?”, I asked, a little stunned. She nodded. And this time, we understood.

So everything’s off the boat. It was more than a little bittersweet making all those trips from the boat to the car. But the process helped me clear my mind and helped me begin to let go of this boat we love, knowing we will love the next one just as much. Having all of our sailing gear on the boat only made us more involved with her, and it took 8 trips to the car with a loaded cart for me to come to terms with that.

I have another day to myself tomorrow. I’ll be spending that day cleaning the boat top to bottom, doing my best to create that blank canvas for someone else’s dream. Maybe they’ll be able to sense the excitement, the adventure, the joy that is surely part of the soul of this boat now. Those things, after all, can never be erased.

 

At the marina.

At the marina.

Days of Sloth

It’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day, a time when people reflect on their lives and what they’ve accomplished over the year, setting goals for the future. The dark days of winter are, I’m sure, created in order for us to have time to be introspective, thoughtful, mindful of how we live our lives. And I intend to do just that. After I’m finished resting and relaxing.

Hermione knows what I’m talking about. What a face!

Yes, indeed, I have hit the days of Sloth full force with my resting ways. Today I have accomplished the following: a shower, throwing wrapping paper from Christmas into the recycle bin. That is all, really. And I am completely satisfied with my level of usefulness in the world. My needs this week, in terms of being at all useful to others, are small.  And in this slow-moving, deliberate living I have embraced of late, I have, indeed, had some time to think, even if I haven’t given it much notice.

The ultra cool Space Needle in Seattle. I stuck this in here because it’s a groovy photo I took this season. Some day I will buy myself a really awesome camera and learn how to use it.

I’ve been thinking about how this time last year I was on a rampage getting rid of stuff. It’s as though I somehow thought that our cutting of the dock lines was just around the corner of our lives and that I had to hurry up and simplify. Oh, brother.  In so doing, I have complicated things terribly. Whatever you do, don’t believe everything you read about how ‘freeing’ it is to get rid of all your stuff because sometimes that is just a damn lie. And this lie comes home to roost on Christmas day when you have 9 people over for dinner and own only 3 dining room chairs because you gave the other chairs away since they were cluttering up the place. And then you have the neighbors over for dinner and apologize about the lack of chairs, commenting that you don’t know what happened to them and they respond with, “You gave them to our son last year because you didn’t need them anymore. Do you need them back? You don’t have anyplace for people to sit when you entertain.” Right. Like I’m going to take back chairs I gave to someone just starting out in life who can barely make a living much less buy new chairs. How embarrassing.

Oh sure, throwing everything out would be freeing if I didn’t ever need things again, or if I was moving onto a boat, say, tomorrow. But since neither of those things is true, I better slow down or we won’t have anyplace to sit in our own home.

What we have here is a collection of very tiny ornaments. I will NOT be getting rid of my collection of tiny Christmas ornaments. They will go with us on whatever boat we have. They take up almost no room. Without Christmas, there would be no Days of Sloth. And I must have them.

Oh, we’ve de-cluttered the place nicely this year. We’ve made so many trips to Goodwill that they know us by name. But the dirty truth is this: getting rid too much stuff well in advance of making a move to a small place, or a boat, is useless. Why? Because nature abhors a vacuum, that’s why. We live in a 3000 square foot house, more or less. Already with both kids gone most of the time, we feel as though we are knocking around in a huge empty space. Getting rid of things that take up that empty space just creates more empty space, and, naturally, it somehow gets filled with more stuff.  It just feels weird to have big blank areas where furniture needs to be. I took the advice of all the self-help gurus and got rid of all the stuff I didn’t use or have on display. That leaves exactly 3000 square feet of stuff that I DO use and IS on display. The house is too big for just us, but we’re in a transitional phase just now and we’re not getting rid of it anytime soon.

And speaking of that, I’ve been pretty attached to my house lately. Maybe it’s just that it’s winter, and cold and wet but I’ve come to realize that my dreams of being on a boat really do generally include warm weather and sunshine. Not that I don’t want to sail in colder climates. I do, but I don’t intend to be miserable all the time while doing it. So this time of year when I miss the boat and think ‘let’s go sailing’, I look outside, realize that what’s in my head doesn’t match the reality outside,  and then become thankful that I’m warm and dry. Call me middle-aged. Call me a sailing wimp. Whatever. I prefer to think of it as ‘blooming where I’m planted’.

Here’s a photo from the butterfly house at the Pacific Science Center, for those who need a break from the narration. I like how this butterfly totally brings together the colors of the plants. This is how gardeners think in the winter time.

Mike has been more productive today, but then, he has a more finely developed sense of guilt than I have. After all, he did grow up in the south. He and Andrew replaced the brake shoes on two cars today, so he feels like he deserves to be laying on the couch reading one of his many new books he received from Santa this Christmas…books on sailing. Mike received 4 riveting books that are sailing oriented, and we’ll post about them later. For now, suffice to say that while Mike received books on sailing adventures, and Andrew received new sailing boots and a new anchor roller for Danger Kitten, I received kitchen utensils and a gift certificate to the spa. I’m beginning to sense a trend. Now, to be fair, I have been ‘into’ cooking lately, as is evidenced by the luscious Beef Bourguignon I served for Christmas dinner. Still, I believe my point is well taken. I will be reading his books so I dearly hope he is in a sharing kind of mood.

He must be really enjoying this book because I’ve heard a lot of snorting and guffawing, and comments like ‘this guy either has balls or he’s an idiot’. And also things like, “I know what’s going to happen next because we’ve done this. Oh, Lord, at least we know he lived to tell of it.” I can’t wait to read this book.

And so during these days of sloth when I’ve given myself the gift of not giving a damn what I get done, Mike lies on one couch, I type on another couch… you can see where I’m going with this: we simply must buy a boat with two generously built settees. Otherwise, there is no other way this whole plan will actually work.