You’re Kidding Me?

My time vending at large boat shows ended with the COVID pandemic. I was already aging out of the intense commitment that the three-day shows required. They entailed an actual four-day involvement. Then, too, the business I was in was changing. As a marine carver, I was dependent on the business of carving fancy names, logos, and such on quarterboards and transom banners. Yes, there was the odd billet head and a fancy eagle thrown in as well.

The meat of the business was the quarter boards and transom work. A good show would result in sales from the tables of small items that covered expenses, but the profit rolled in with commissions for banners, clamshell ended quarter boards, and the like.

Vinyl lettering had already been nibbling at the requests for years. It was a fact of business that not everybody wanted fancy carving on their boat. It was a matter of differing aesthetics, maintenance, and cost. My business occupied a niche, but it was modestly profitable and enjoyable.

All that changed at one boat show when a company showed up with a robot-carver. With a router attached, it could whip out a quarterboard in a fraction of the time I could. Yes, it was crude, but improvements would eventually make it a true competitor.

The definitive moment came towards the end of the show when the owner of the company that made the robot-carver approached me and asked if I’d like a demo. He assumed that I’d be interested in buying one for my business. I’d already been discreetly walking by his booth during the show. So I had a good idea of the faults and advantages of his product. I’m afraid that my response to his offer was less than polite. It was along the lines of “Are you kidding me?”

A John Henry Moment

I was having a John Henry Moment. I was seeing a significant amount of my profit preparing to walk. Right now, it wasn’t much. But the quality of the robot carver would improve. I call it the John Henry Moment because it was the end of an era. Unlike John Henry, I decided not to compete with the machinery.

Fast forward a few years, and various machine engraving processes, robot-carvers, and lasers have taken over a lot of the lettering work. Do I still get this type of work in my shop? Sure. But things changed for me not long after seeing the robot-carver in action. I had eye surgery that made some types of close-up fine work difficult. I could still carve, but it took a year of retraining to find new ways of doing things.

Along the way I found myself concentrating more on another area of my carving – boat and ship portraits. If the other areas of the business had been bread and butter, the portraits had been the sweet dessert.

The Ahaa! Moment

About the time that the pandemic hit, I had my “aha!” moment. I didn’t want to clamber about boats measuring transoms, and I was bored with quarter boards. With the business dead, I could refocus on the dessert and fine-tune the portrait carving. And that’s what I’ve been doing – it’s been an enjoyable adventure.

And that’s why I say that the moment I spoke to the sales rep for the robot carver has become a favorite moment. It stimulated the start of a new direction that took me from John Henry to Ahaaa! And to become a specialist in my area of marine carving.

Side note –

A laser now sits in the basement for fine small carving of signs. If it is under an inch in height these days It gets done in laser. I also incorporate traditional carving, portrait work and laser into a sort of mixed media project that I enjoy greatly.