By Peter Phillipps

Voyager after the rebuild, with two new Novie dories stacked on deck

I could not believe that no one had snapped her up in more than a year on the market. I could see in her, an inner strength and dignity I had sought and seldom found in my two year quest. I'd been right about her rig and design, but blind to VOYAGER's condition. She was a leaker, was suffering, and needed an enormous amount of work. But I calculated that the monies entailed would come to a fraction of the cost of a new vessel of comparable strength. I believed that her fittings and other salvageable parts, many of which were no longer available elsewhere, would make the venture worthwhile despite her shortcomings. When I left the dock that day, the good doctor had tears in his eyes, for I am sure the schooner's silhouette remained clear in his memory, and he could hear the Lathrop dual ignition engine which the U.S. Navy had installed during World War II for members of its "silent fleet". That engine never ran again.

For the next three years we sailed up to moorings and docks from Nova Scotia to Florida, in the beginning ripping off cleats and once pulling a gas dock away from shore. By 1972 I had spent $17,000 in repairs and materials for capital improvements that never solved the leaking. By that time, I had developed sufficient skills in seamanship and navigation, and a restlessness to sail other oceans. I was ready to go. VOYAGER was not. 

I again looked at brokers' listings, traveling up and down the East Coast. To my dismay, the vessels I saw were either too much in need of work or too expensive, and even the latter were often of questionable strength. I could afford neither a new boat nor another 10 years of rebuilding. As I looked at and sailed other rigs, I began to respect John Alden more and more. He was a man who sailed his own designs. He had once owned one of the seven schooners in the 390 series to which VOYAGER belongs. I believed VOYAGER's design, perhaps next to that of MALABAR X, to be the most sophisticated in several hundred years of schooner development. With her 14' beam, 39'11" waterline, 50' length on deck and 7'2" draft, VOYAGER's motion was always kindly. In force 10 winds she could claw to windward, her high fisherman bow protecting the cockpit from deluge. Sliding down 30' waves, she but once allowed her cockpit to be pooped. Her low center of effort, despite the weight aloft problem suffered by most gaffriggers, allowed for more sail in higher winds than any marconi could carry. She cannot point as high as a marconi, but off the wind, which long passages must be, she cannot be beaten for ease of handling and speed. She carries 1300 sq ft of working lowers, and this becomes 2000 sq ft with fisherman and main topsails set. I already had the foundation I needed for the countless gales ahead.

After convincing myself of her merits, I decided that all VOYAGER needed was a hull transplant. I inquired about building a new VOYAGER in Connecticut, Rhode Island and Maine yards. The lowest quote I received was a whopping $250,000. So I left Mattapoisett, Massachusetts, in the fall of 1972 and sailed to Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. We averaged 8.7 knots in a brisk southwesterly, pumping our way into the yard of Smith and Rhuland, schooner builders for over 100 years. I had sailed many times into Lunenburg, to me the loveliest waterfront on the East Coast, where the buildings lining the docks are painted red with white trim and are devoted to the sea: chandleries, shipyards, a fishery, and one unpainted complex whose sign reads "W. Lawrence Alien, Dory Builder". Not only had Fred Rhuland made a new stem for VOYAGER some years prior, but he had built the HMS BOUNTY, the HMS ROSE, and the original BLUENOSE as well as its replica. Smith and Rhuland had been responsible for a large share of the hundreds of schooners of the Grand Banks fleet. The yard had consisted of as many as 100 shipwrights, but in the 1970s, with steel replacing wood as the material for the fishing draggers, the yard's staff had dwindled to an average of 15. Rhuland quoted me $37,500 for a new hull with a maple keel and white oak stem, framing and horn timber.

Eight shipwrights and two apprentices worked on the hull. The foreman, in his early 50s, was young compared to the rest, who averaged about 65. Although at first they seemed to me a bit old for such strenuous work, I revised my opinion when later, after eight of us carried the 15' bowsprit to a shed for refinishing, two men in their seventies carried it back and lifted it into place. We used the old hull for scantlings and as a reference, together with tattered construction drawings from John Alden's office. I insisted that not a line be altered; however, I believe the stem was run out a bit in the lofting shed, as Nova Scotian builders are particularly fond of exaggerated "Bluenose" bows.

I had one confrontation with the yard which came at the beginning of the project, after the completion of the keel, horn timber and stem. All three had been built of rock maple. I had agreed to a maple keel because such a large and long piece of white oak was not available in the maritime province. But the frames, 2x2 1/2", 10 1/2" on centers, and all other structural components were to be of white oak. I'd heard that Nova Scotian shipwrights cared little whether they worked in teak or pine because, in their cold waters, a tropical or rot resistant wood made little difference. I insisted that both stem and stern be torn out and reshaped in oak, a difficult decision. They changed the horn timber and stem, and as the rebuilding progressed I changed my opinion of Nova Scotian shipwrights. They proved to be overly conscientious of any material they used in construction. They would smile as they held a mahogany trunk cabin corner piece in one hand. I knew they were admiring its density, grain and clearness. To help insure that only extra blocks on a few days' notice. To help insure that only the proper woods were employed, I agreed to handpick and ship all the African mahogany planking and teak decking in 20' to 26' lengths. Condon's, in White Plains, New York, allowed me to rummage through their stock. With the mahogany at $.67 and teak at $1.19 per bd. ft., I rented a truck and delivered the rough sawn planks for $6,000. The yard stripped the old hull of its iron keel, chain plates, deck fittings, pumps, engine, and the entire rig, and installed these within and on the new hull at $3.70 an hour.

As the job progressed, I decided to replace my 10 year old Palmer with a new Nordberg 113hp engine, and to replace the chain plates. The old rudder stock did not extend all the way to a shoe at the base of the deadwood, and so a new 2" solid bronze stock was cast at the nearby Lunenburg Foundry. A shaped mahogany rudder replaced the old, unsophisticated yellow pine blade. Even with these new acquisitions, the equipment, hardware and material that could be reused more than offset the extras. I had intended to replace the plow steel standing rigging with stainless steel. As an architect with his finger on the pulse of modern technology, I was stunned when the rigger, Morris, offered to supply all the standing rigging with eye splices free of charge in exchange for VOYAGER's old stays. To further his point, he took a strand of new stainless steel, bent it north, then south, and back. It sheared neatly. He then unlaid a splice of my 44 year old plow steel and violently pushed and pulled some 60 times without failure. I decided to stick with the old rigging. We took out all the old splices and shortened down to the next smaller length. In this way, I had to replace only the upper main shrouds, which are currently new and are my rig's only weakness, as steel of an equivalent quality was unavailable. As a believer in 20th century technology, I still find this situation difficult to accept. Although all the blocks had bronze sheaves and bearings, some of the chafing gear had worn. The A. Dauphinee & Son Block Shop, up the street, rebuilt and supplied extra blocks on a few days' notice.

My three anchors, 100 lb and 75 lb kedges and a 90 lb Danforth, and 200' of 3/8" chain (which the yard re-galvanized) were reusable, as were the two copper 40 gal fuel tanks under the cockpit seats. New stainless water tanks were built and installed in the main bilge, as the original had disappeared prior to my purchase of the boat. All the spars were stripped, sanded, and there being no checks or rot, oiled and later varnished. The blacksmith in the town, whose fire burned day and night, inspected the ironmongery, then repaired and built anew a few bales and mast bands. The Edson steering gear was reinstalled, my largest saving after the rig and 7 ton iron keel. I planned to build the interior myself, and to finish all trim and spars, except for painting the hull. From the old boat's interior I salvaged two hanging bunks, numerous mattresses, the ice chest, kerosene lamps, a stainless galley sink and pump, dishware, silverware, pots and pans, and numerous small items one does not consider when buying a new boat and which run into the thousands of dollars. 

By buying a boat already equipped and rebuilding its hull, which is generally about 30% of a new boat's cost and often an older vessel's major problem, we saved greatly on these extras. There were, as with all building projects, many unplanned expenses. One involved in a project of creating a new, sound structure, it is illogical to cut corners in any place or at any stage. One cannot risk the entire project with an ill conceived insertion that costs but a fraction of the total investment. For example, VOYAGER has only three underwater through hull fittings, which we decided to replace with new bronze valves and lead pipe after installing the old cockpit drains. In reworking the deck layout, I removed the old trunk cabin between the masts to provide the workability that only flush decks afford. The headroom below suffers, and without port lights, the light level is greatly reduced, but the strength of continuous 3x3" 6 ply laminated oak deck beams, 3/8" Bruynzeel plywood and 1 1/2" teak decks is reassuring when tons of water cascade casually from the sails and out the scuppers. 

Years later, there are no leaks in the flush deck over the main cabin, whereas the aft compartment, which retained its trunk cabin, has developed an aggravating drip over the main berth. We began the interior soon after Smith and Rhuland finished the planking. The yard allowed us to mill, join and rip in the evenings. My four children, wife, mate and I fitted and installed inside of what sounded like a bass drum by day.

We began sailing with no more than a chart table, four bunks and a bucket and continued building the galley, head and bins while underway to Barbados, Spain, Italy and Greece. The new interior bears no resemblance to the old, my apologies to Alden. My wife and I are the only crew 90% of the time, and we sleep aft in the engine room. These two functions do not conflict, as we run the engine only to enter a new harbor with an unfavorable wind, and at those times we are on deck and not below sleeping. The main cabin consists of a galley and head amidships, a settee that curves about, meeting itself at . the foremast around a circular table. The forepeak holds a double bunk with a large storage area beneath. The settee arrangement sleeps five in comfortable bunks, plus two more in a pinch at anchor. The interior has been six years in progress, and we continue to rethink and reconstruct as our needs change and as we prepare for our next trek to Japan, China and selected East African ports. There are so many lovely but tired wooden vessels lying about the yards. Most are well designed, appointed with bronze castings, warm interiors and fast rigs, but suffer the ravages of hard sailing and time. The hull absorbs most of the pain, yet amounts to approximately 30% of the total package. If the interior, rig, engine and equipment are salvageable, one could have a fullyfound vessel for considerably less than a fiberglass production boat. MALABAR II was rebuilt around her existing interior in Camden in 1955, and when not sailing long passages offshore continues to pose a threat to any sailboat within sight looking for sport. With proper maintenance and care, a wooden boat can last 100 years. I have always considered VOYAGER to be on loan, and believe there will be as many masters after me as there were before. In 50 more years, she may well require another new skin. 

Peter H.G. Phillipps, in addition to maintaining a private practice in architecture, is a professor at Brooklyn College, New York City

Original Wooden Boat Magazine article