As far back as second grade, I have been captivated by boats and I’m not really sure why. I enjoy looking at them, climbing on board, peeking inside the cabins, and even drawing pictures of them. In 2006, at age 13, I visited the Turnagain Arm, a body of water outside Anchorage, Alaska and became inspired to build one. After graduating from Texas Tech’s engineering school in 2015, I began saving money and decided to call my would-be boat the Turn Again. Despite this eternal desire of mine, I lacked the space, tools, and knowledge of boat building, furthermore, I did not know how to sail. Many years would pass until a serendipitous encounter with a fellow alumni would allow me to realize my dream of building a boat.
In 2019 I convinced Anna Lee Haag, my next door neighbor in Lubbock turned college sweetheart, to relocate with me from Fort Worth, Texas to Seattle, Washington for my job. Shortly after moving, Anna Lee and I attended the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival on a whim. It was at this spritely gathering of boat-wrights and enthusiasts, professionals and amateurs, sailors and landlubbers that by complete happen-stance we stepped aboard this beautiful 21-ft. wooden sailboat to introduce ourselves to Larry and Patty Cheek. While admiring the craftsmanship, we made a remarkable discovery: Larry and Patty had both attended Texas Tech. They met while in school and married shortly before graduating in 1970 with degrees in journalism and music respectively.
As it turns out, Larry was not only a journalist, but an author, magazine contributor, retired creative writing professor, and an accomplished boat builder. Needless to say, we hit it off. A short time later, they invited us to their home on Whidbey Island for lunch and afternoon sailing. With a taste for late summer sailing on the Salish Sea, I was marveled by this couple who achieved similar dreams to my own. A few months would pass before I worked up the courage to propose an idea. In exchange for boat building experience, I offered to help Larry build his next boat. He declined. But then graciously counter-offered with an opportunity to help build my first boat. And so it was agreed. Together, Larry, Anna Lee, and I would build a 14-ft wooden sailboat in Larry’s workshop with his tools and of course with his guidance. They even offered to teach us how to sail it.
With a plan set, we started working around Halloween 2020. We used marine-grade plywood for the hull and a variety of hardwood for everything else. Construction began with the hull, which was built upside down. Then it was turned right-side up to build the inside with its decks and seats. Gallons of epoxy and a boatload of screws would hold it all together. At that point, it started to look and feel like a boat. However, Larry was quick to remind us that until she floats, this was merely a B-S-O (boat-shaped-object).
Throughout the project, I procured a trailer, hired a sailmaker, and signed up for sailing lessons. Finally came the masts, spars, and rudder. The project took approximately 1800 man-hours and spanned 49 boatbuilding sessions, each requiring a round trip ferry ride from Seattle. Some days we made satisfying progress in a wonderful island paradise with excellent weather and long sunny days. While other weekends would be plagued by wind-driven power outages with dark and gloomy weather to match the sodden realization of countless setbacks. The project had many highs and lows, constant ups and downs, like the bobbing of a boat in the surf. Nevertheless, Larry and Patty were always there. They hosted us at their home and typically cooked us delicious meals.
One struggle in particular comes to mind, the early realization that due to a casually ignored gap, we accidentally built one side of the boat longer than the other, making the transom not straight. Well before, during, and after this moment Larry would quote a golden rule of the project: Boat building is not about preventing mistakes, it’s about solving the mistakes you will inevitably create. Larry wrote a book on building his first boat and he still contributes articles to Wooden Boat Magazine, so I was inclined to believe him. Even before we mitigated that misalignment, Larry always remained confident that she would sail.
Finally, launch day had arrived. The water was cold but the sun was warm. As the boat slid off its trailer, the sky was a brilliant blue with wispy clouds that matched the hull and its cream interior. The lapstrake hull planks with their vivid hue now contrasted nicely with the deeper shades of murky blue water. The boat dipped down as I climbed in, all of its wonderful brightwork shimmering in the afternoon light. Larry handed me the two oars and pushed us off. Pulling in the bowline, I glanced up to see Larry and Patty standing proud on shore. We made eye-contact and exchanged a relieved smile. Whew! It floats. I turned around to position myself for rowing, and looked back at Anna Lee seated near the tiller. The moment began to feel like a dream. Then my mind wandered to that time we built an accidental angle in the back. Chuckling to myself, I recalled Anna Lee’s clever suggestion for the boat’s name after discovering our mistake, because it punned nicely to my original idea. A name that was not only unique but simple, relatable yet symbolic, comedic and yet justified. “Instead of calling it the Turnagain, we should call it the Measure Again.” I thought to myself, what an elegant name thoughtfully chosen to describe an amateur-built wooden sailboat. My reflection was interrupted by Anna Lee shouting “You can barely tell one side is longer than the other!”