We determined to take a break from our usual round-robin with songs. So, stories it would be. When my turn came, I started by asking who'd take bananas aboard at the start of a cruise. "No way. The only thing worse is to have a woman aboard or sail on Friday." another voice, "Hard to avoid having a woman aboard when your wife loves to go out with you; no, the worse thing is to change the name of a vessel."
My Judo sensei was relentless, he'd walk around us casually, then without warning sweep or throw us to the ground. With a smile, he'd then point out the weakness or flaw in our stance that allowed him to throw us.
The carving shown here is in the Chase House in Strawberry Banke, a unique museum in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, that preserves the 300-year history of a waterfront neighborhood. The carving is attributed to ship carver Ebenezer Dearing and is in the formal parlor.
This eagle is barely eleven inches wide, not my smallest, but diminutive none the less. It's a good miniature project for a woodcarver. Pine is great wood, but fine detail in small sizes are not its strong suit. Would this pop out at you in cherry, plum or box? Sure, but my objective was to do what was possible with a butt end from a #3 common plank. A piece of kindling in other words. Why, just because it was the middle of summer and I needed something to do while larger projects developed.
I carved this banner around when the Patrick O'Brien books like Master and Commander were popular.
The buzz among some of those studying traditional crafts was that they were not entirely sure that Louis Charpentier was “really” traditional. His roots in rural Quebec carving animal figures for an Ark were unimpeachable. His decades of service as a designer for a plastics manufacturer worried some. But, carving plastic, Carving styrofoam? For some, these placed him beyond the pale.
When I restarted my business in the 1990s, I was eager to work and eager to do work that would build my portfolio. I was doing mostly boat portraits, transom banners, quarter boards, and that beautiful booth fee payer spoons, spatulas and cutting boards.
There are always variations on old standards. Some are even improvements.
It was a Friday evening in the summer. Four or five of us were sitting on the porch, drinking beer, smoking, watching the nighthawks diving for insects, and telling tales.
he last time I saw her was in August of '75. She wore Oregon Buff and Bikini Blue, and was swinging casually at her mooring in the Townsend Gut.