November / December 2025

While sitting aboard the schooner BRILLIANT on a quiet Wednesday afternoon in the early summer, I finally had a chance to reflect on the major work done to the yacht the previous winter. While the teen crew was ashore with the mate, off in search of well-deserved ice cream after a long day barreling around Gardiners Bay, New York, I snuck a scone from the galley and soaked in the relative calm. With 12 people aboard, quiet is rare aboard BRILLIANT and, even at anchor, she was far from silent. But the sounds were familiar and comforting: the slap of water against the hull, the low hum of the refrigeration compressor, the 1932 Chelsea clock chiming every 30 minutes.

A story that made the rounds some 90 years ago told of a young man who built a sailboat and had an adventure. As things developed, he and a pal got a lot more than they bargained for. They set out from Mobile, Alabama, aiming for Key West, Florida, but ran into a bad northerly storm that in two days blew them almost to the coast of Yucatan, Mexico. Bruised but determined, they headed back toward Florida and hit yet more foul weather. Finally, 23 days after they first set out, having consumed all their ham sandwiches and then half a potato per day each, and with a much-diminished supply of water, the lads made it to Florida. They landed first at Fort Myers and eventually reached Key West.

My favorite sweatshirt has just about given up the ghost. I suppose that’s what happens when it’s the piece of clothing you always grab first when you need a layer that might get a little paint on it. It’s a gray cotton hoodie with the word “CREW” on the back and an image of the tugboat C.L. CHURCHILL on the front, accompanied by the words “Celebrating 50 Years of Steady Dependable Service.”

It was a great day in June 2004 when the Shelburne Shipyard offered to lend their ex-yard tug, the C.L. CHURCHILL, to the Lake Champlain Maritime Museum (LCMM) as towboat for its 88' replica Lake Champlain canal schooner LOIS McCLURE. At 34', the workboat looked perfect for the job, with her wooden, hard-chined hull, traditional tugboat wheelhouse, tall stack, and high bow with low stern.

The scene was still common in the very early 20th century: 1905 photographs show the MORNING STAR, a brig employed as a whaler, docked at New Bedford, Massachusetts, after two years at sea. Its small fleet of double-ended whaleboats, normally on deck or slung from davits along the ship’s sides, were brought dockside and tied together, presumably for maintenance after hard use at sea. Barrels of whale oil, still valuable as a high-quality lubricant despite competition from land-based petroleum, were lowered to the pier to await transport to a refiner nearby.

“This is not a ‘kiss and tell’ boat, as we are committed to protecting the privacy of our clients,” says Jack Boyt with a sly grin on his face as he delivers his punchline. “However, I will tell you this. There were at least three murders aboard MAURETANIA one year…on location shoots for the TV series NCIS, Criminal Minds, and Without a Trace.” The yacht has also hosted Melrose Place, 90210, Comedy Central, and others. Film credits include Beggarman, Thief (1979 with Glenn Ford, Jean Simmons, and Lynn Redgrave), and Action Jackson (1988 with Carl Weathers, Vanity, and Sharon Stone).

Now and then, I run into people who dream of learning boatbuilding but are intimidated by the prospect of building a boat on their own. It is easy to understand why: Any wooden boat is a big, complex project. It requires a large workshop space, quite a few tools, and a substantial amount of time and skill.

It’s easy to miss a small detail screwed onto the cabin side. It was only after going below on my own as we were sailing across a choppy Solent that I fully registered it. And then it stopped me in my tracks: a small wooden panel, no more than 5" tall by 3" wide, with two brass plaques screwed onto it. The top one shows an image of an eagle with wings outspread, holding a swastika in its claws: the unmistakable symbol of the German Luftwaffe.