May 26, 1983 - Launching Time Againr�
Page 18A
The Suffolk mimes
Launching Time Again
By PAUL STOUTENBURGH
It seems about this time of the year my
life always gets involved in a hundred
and one things, one of which has been
getting some sort of boat ready for
launching. When I was a kid we never
bought boats -- we inherited them. This
usually meant that the boat had served
the person well, but by now was dying of
neglect and so the owner really wanted to
get it out of his yard. Nevertheless, for a
young boy who had dreams of owning a
boat of his own, this was a challenge and
the challenge was always accepted.
The first boat to need my tender loving
care was an old duck boat that was
forgotten about behind Mr. Pollock's
garage. It didn't take much persuasion to
convince Mr. Pollock that another
year of neglect would see his boat in the
dump. He let me take it. I fixed it up and
used it for many years.
I don't know where I ever got the
materials to recanvas this little gem
along with the assorted copper tacks,
nails, paint, etc. but I'm sure enthusiasm
of a young boy came through for the duck
boat became shipshape and took me
fishing many a night. About this time of
the year an old friend, Harry Waite, and I
would row out into the creek, drop over
the anchor and fish for weakfish for a
good part of the night. The poles we used
were hand -me -downs that could have
landed a tuna. Their big cumbersome
reels you could never cast with never
seemed to bother us for we just dropped
our lines over the' side and fished.
As you know, the nights about this time
can be pretty chilly and oftentimes wet.
Looking back in my diary, they were just
that way 40 years ago. It didn't seem to
stop us though, and we seemed to live
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through the sniffles and colds that
followed. We'd fish till late in the night
talking about this and that -- with a lot of
dreams mixed in. Guess dreams were
what helped keep us going for those were
thin times. We'd buy a pound of squid
that if kept in the ice box would do us for
the season. Of course, my mother didn't
particularly care for the odor of squid
mingled with her foodstuffs but we solved
the problem by keeping it tightly sealed
in a jar. But, oh, when you opened that
jar! This system worked well for us and
each time out we'd take four or five strips
of squid and leave the rest for later.
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We'd sit and talk and fish by the hour.
Occasionally some farmer or other local
person would come down and try heaving
a drop line from shore. These old -
fashioned hand lines made out of tarred
line were whirled around and then with a
heavy sinker on the end let go to the
middle of the creek. I can remember
seeing this leadened missile travel
through the air with the two white
squid- baited hooks flying behind.
Many's the night we'd get only two or
three fish but on others, we'd cover the
bottom of the boat with an array of
dazzling silvery fish.Those lonely nights
out in the creek built into you an
May 26, 1983
SPRING LAUNCHING --In harder times, boat owners usually launched
their own boats and did most of the maintenance themselves. Today's
modern, efficient boat yards have taken over most of the laborious jobs.
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
appreciation of the wonderful area we
live in. Quiet, running water, night
herons stalking the beaches, and as usual
the mystical horseshoe crabs coming
onto the beach to lay their eggs along the
shore. It was a wonderful time to be
alive.
As time went on, I inherited a 17 -foot
Great South Bay catboat with a single
cylinder make and break Grey marine
engine in it. What a monster it was. The
mast had been taken out along with her
centerboard and a cabin was added but
she still had the barn door rudder and
huge tiller. It wasn't exactly inherited for
I did pay $25 legal fees but that was the
best $25 I ever spent. We had some great
fishing trips in that single cylinder
engine little putt -putt.
As you can see it didn't take much to
keep us busy and when I look back happy,
too. Each year I'd paint the old wooden
hull, give her a coat of copper on the
bottom and launch her right in front of
my aunt's place where she sat high and
dry through the winter months. There
were no yard fees, no transportation fees,
no launching fees, no maintenance fees.
You did it all yourself or you didn't have
a boat in those days. I guess I did buy the
copper bottom paint but I'm sure I used
Dad's house paint for her sides and the
old grey porch paint for her decks. We
made things do.
That little one cylinder putt -putt took
Harry, Bill and me around all our bays
and through most of our creeks, whether
we were fishing, eeling or duck hunting.
It served us well. Once we even went
around Gardiners Island and then later
landed on Plum Island, which in those
days was deserted. We slept cramped up
under the decks and snoozed on damp
mattresses for the decks always seemed
to leak. We cooked our bacon and eggs on
a one burner alcohol stove that never
failed us. We got marooned once on
Gardiners Island when the motor conked
out and we had to spend the night on
shore. But like all good things the boat
had an ending and a proper one. It was
bashed to pieces in one of the hurricanes.
Since then I've passed through various
rowboats, a canoe, ice boat, assorted
small sailboats, plus a relic 38- footer and
the last, a classic Elco cabin cruiser. All
played a part in our family's lives and
were always waiting to be launched when
spring came around.
There has been a regular period of
progression that found my wife and me
just yesterday preparing our latest boat
for launching. It's a 28 -foot fiberglass
sailboat. There's little maintenance and
the decks don't leak.
Yet I guess when you look back each
boat added something to our lives. Each
boat took us through the waters of our
bays and creeks and welded in our minds
the joy that boating can bring, provided
you take time out to enjoy what's around
you. Things were much simpler in those
days. We did with a lot less then, but
somehow always seemed to enjoy it. I
guess that's what it's all about.