SWBANS OPEN HOUSE

Story and photos Ryerson Clark

For the third year in a row Ken Lamb and Katherine Sharpe have been insane enough to host our annual Open House.

The event was again a major success with much boat talk, great food and music. A perfect mid winter “fix”.

A Boat For Free

Hi Ms Clark

I am Jamie Storey. I met you at the Halifax Boat Show and had mentioned to you my 92 year old father's sail boat which he is hoping to pass on to someone who would fall in love with what he calls her 'Bluenose Hull' , finish her refit and put her in the water. I told you I would take some pictures and send them to you as you thought you might be able to put a notice in your newsletter. I have put them in a zip file and attached them with this email.

Background: "West in the Morning" was designed and built by Elliot Whitby in Tangers, NS. as a 34 foot yawl in or around 1960. I am told he may still be residing there. Her hull is constructed of pine on oak ribs as you will see from the pictures. She was finished with a skin of fiberglass and dutifully maintained for over 30 years. My dad bought her in 1964 when our family was attending a snipe regatta at Armdale Yacht Club. He sailed her around the coast to Shediac, NB where she carried her colours throughout the Northumberland Strait for many years. About 8 years ago at age 84 dad and his navy shipwright friend, Emanual Poirier decided she needed a new keelson and refit. Over several years they managed quite well, dropping the old keel, cutting and replacing the keelson, constructing a crewd steaming chamber fired from a pot bellied stove which they used to bend and shape the replaced oak ribs you see in the the pictures. They had the lead portion of the keel melted down and repoured and bolted back to the keelson. Unfortunately, at the respective ages of 85 and 82 they kind of ran out of steam themselves and she has since sat under cover next to Emanual's barn at Shediac Bridge, NB.

Her rudder and her standing rigging and sails are still with her. Her engine was a four cyclinder gas Seamite model. As you can see she has a steal cradel and would not be difficult to transport.

If he were given assurances that who ever took her over would make reasonable effort to finish her and put her in the water, he would happily transfer ownership at no cost to the restorer. Please let me know what your thoughts are and if you deem it acceptable we will prepare and insert a notice or add in your newsletter.

Yours respectfully,

Jamie M. Storey

Balseros, March 2005

I’ll never get used to them. Every time I run into one, I have to stop and examine it. You’d think by now that I’d seen them all or at least enough of them to be able to quiet the images that come to mind.

The boats of the Balseros are living relics of the determination of people to live free. They are evidence of their ingenuity as well as their courage. They range in construction from tractor inner tubes strung with fish net to elaborate collages of roofing tin and bed frames, wood and rope, wire and Styrofoam and always roofing cement. Anything that can be made to float can and has been used to traverse the treacherous Florida Straits in order to touch U.S. soil.

On a recent trip out to Fort Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas, I was walking around shooting pictures and came upon a group of three recent arrivals. There have always been derelict vessels in the Keys and we get used to seeing fishing boats, sailboats and steel and wooden vessels of all description run aground in the shallows and in the mangroves where they gradually disintegrate. Cuban refugee boats are distinct. They have a homemade look inspiring amusement that gives way to admiration and awe when one stops to consider the accomplishment and the circumstances.

These three vessels are unusual in that they have car engines for propulsion. They are cooled by salt water from hoses over the side (through hull fittings being difficult to find) and by not being enclosed. One has a battery, and none have lights. There is nowhere to sit except the bilges. There is no safety gear, no anchor, no bilge pump no life jackets and no navigational aids. None.

The captain must rely on his instinct and his knowledge of the currents and prevailing winds to find the tiny islands of the Florida Keys. At night in the Florida Straits it is possible to see the looms of Havana and of Key West at the same time, an important navigational aid. There is the danger of shipping. Cruise ships, freighters, tankers, tugs with tows, ore carriers, container ships, U.S. Navy and Coast Guard ships and fishing vessels ply these waters and these tiny craft are invisible to them.

Consider yourself the captain on this voyage, operating a vessel in the Florida Straits in the Gulf Stream at night with an open engine beside you with fifteen others in the boat. Gasoline is from a bucket or a makeshift tank. Fuel mixes with bilge water and vomit. There are drinking water and food for a couple of days but the chances are that you will be out there for longer than that.

You must cast off at night from some hidden spot on the coast of Cuba where, at great risk, you have been building a boat for months. Somehow you get everyone in the boat and shove off, eluding the gunboats of the Guarda Frontera (Cuban Coast Guard). You are quickly drawn into the Gulf Stream that runs northeast from the Cuban coast in the general direction of the Keys. As the grip of the sea raises you and sends your craft lurching into the night you realize there is no going back.

The first few hours out brings you into the middle of the stream where with an east wind you are faced with a short steep beam sea that you must steer into while making way to the north. Even in a seaworthy craft this can be a test of boat and captain. In this boat exceptional skill and luck are required. A few miles offshore one can see the lights of shipping and those unfamiliar with sea travel are cheered by the sight but to the captain they represent one of the worst dangers they will face. All night you dodge enormous shapes defined partly by the stars blacked out by them like a black hole in space.

You have chosen to leave on a moonless night, so even that ancient aid is denied you but there is the Interior with boot Pole Star and you make for it for what seems eternity until you see a loom ahead and to the east. It is better to make as much westing as possible now, impossible to recover later. You know when you have passed the axis of the Gulf Stream when both east and west bound shipping is behind you. Hours later ahead there are lights of small fishing vessels and then they are gone. Exhaustion grips you for a moment before you realize that there is a squall
bearing down on you. You wait anticipating the worst. You check you’re trim and move people around assigning bailing cans and explaining the situation. When the squall comes there is no strong wind and the rain is warm and comes down straightand hard for a few moments then moves on.

There is great relief and you are back searching the horizon again. Even the fishing boats must be avoided on the off chance that one would radio the Coast Guard. As you thread your way north through the fishing fleet, the swell looses it’s chop and becomes longer. People are seasick and the smell begins to infect the air and soon everyone is shifting and trying for rail space. Trim is upset and water pours over the side. A child panics and others follow. You must become assertive and reassuring at once to prevent a swamped vessel with little reserve buoyancy and no flotation.

The first gray of dawn settles the passengers and they ease their seasickness by gazing at the horizon. Morning comes at last and brings a mix of relief and apprehension. Now you will be visible to anyone for several miles. Everyone is reminded not to show anything reflective. A glint from a cooking pot or a knife blade can be seen for great distances. The mixed blessing of no wind on this morning’s sea presents the opportunity to make good speed and you head north now guided only by the rising sun.

Frigate birds appear, soaring and skimming the water ahead. As the boat comes closer flying fish break the surface and are caught in mid air and are fought over by the hungry birds. Beneath the waves a school of dorado drives the flying fish to the surface. Several of these land in the boat and in the excitement, shifting weight again presents a hazard. The morning passes in glassy calm and several boats are spotted in the distance. A sport fisherman speeds past three miles to the west without slowing, his visibility to the east limited by the morning sun.

Midday brings heat and a fresh breeze from the southeast. With the small sea on the stern quarter and with cumulus clouds building in the north, you gain a little confidence that you will not be seen as easily. The ancient Lada engine overheats and you shut it down to clear the intake hose of sargassum weed. People again are uneasy as you lie in the gentle swell and boats appear low on the horizon to the north. After restarting by hand crank you get underway once again and by afternoon there is a smudge on the horizon that you know to be land.

Now the dilemma is to go for a landing in day light or to drift until dark and then approach. You do not know exactly where you are or if the island you see is inhabited. If it is not, there will be no light to guide you and if it is, there is the possibility of an early discovery. There is also the problem of offshore reefs or coral heads, no problem in day light but treacherous at night. In late afternoon the wind drops completely and a boat is spotted traveling at high speed headed east across your course. You know from the ads on American T.V. that there is a high speed ferry to Fort Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas. As it passes several miles to the north, you see that it is a catamaran and decide that it must be the ferry. What should you do? The smudge on the horizon now to the west must be The Dry Tortugas with well-lit channels and easy landing or The Lower Keys to the east at sixty miles distant. A quick check of the fuel decides the issue and you turn west with a favorable current.

At sunset there is much discussion about how to proceed in the event of last minute discovery and the inevitable pursuit by the U.S. Coast Guard. Everyone knows the risks. You must touch dry land or you will be sent back to Cuba and a very uncertain future. Once ashore you will be well treated and given entrance to the U.S. This is the infamous “wet foot, dry foot” policy of the American government. So, on landing the plan will be to get everyone ashore as quickly as possible. Not knowing what to expect, everyone is nervous and talking at once when on the horizon behind you a white ship appears bearing in your general direction but a little to the south and in a few minutes turns north across your stern and proceeds for several minutes before turning again to the south west and close to an intersecting course. You have been spotted by a passing boat and the Coast Guard is on the hunt. They have not seen you with radar yet but they know you are there. It is impossible to keep order in the boat. People are wanting to jump and swim for it and must be restrained. It becomes obvious that you have been seen now as the cutter’s course is dead on you.

Suddenly it’s all over. The pursuit boat has grounded out on the bar and everyone has made it to this tiny sanctuary at the very end of the Florida Keys. They are greeted by the park rangers as they straggle across the narrow sand spit separating Bush Key from the main island of Garden Key which is the Location of Fort Jefferson. Here they are cared for with food, water and medical attention for those needing it. Here they begin a new life. While this story has a happy ending, at least half of those trying to cross in open boats are lost at sea.

So, when I come across one of these vessels in my wandering in the Florida Keys, I think of all the people who dared to face long odds to change the lives of themselves and of their families. It’s a long tradition we North Americans have of crossing dangerous waters to reach a new land and a chance of a better life. In a way I feel like I’m witnessing the arrival of my own ancestors almost four hundred years ago.

ADTinkham
Key West

SWBANS at the Halifax Boat Show

The following photos show our members building a windsprint sailboat at the Show. Greg Little of Mahone Bay sponsored it and intends to race it at the Festival. SWBANS organizes these class (and open class) races each year and many of our member support them. The building of this craft went very well with members who knew what they were doing teaching those that had never built a sailboat before.

The racing class has eight or so windsprints now. The races cover five days with two events per day and SWBANS as a group, and several members donate awards. Others like the Mug and Anchor Pub provide a home base between races.

This beauty now awaits spring and Gregs return to the “far south” to finisher her off and get her in racing trim.

To Top

Back to Newsletter