Every year at the Wooden Boat Festival, I come across hundreds of boats and hundreds of stories.

Some catch my eye because of their craftsmanship. Some because of their beauty.

And then there are the boats that stay with me because of the people behind them.

That’s what happened when I learned the story of Comrade.

Built in 1930, Comrade was commissioned by Herbert William Davis, Jr. for himself and his two sons. What makes that story even more remarkable is that he continued with his plans despite the stock market crash of 1929 and the uncertainty that followed. At a time when many dreams were being put on hold, he chose to build something for his family and for the future.

In a way, Comrade has always been a story about perseverance.

Nearly a century later, the boat has found her way back into the Davis family, where Herbert’s great-grandson has spent the last eight years bringing her back to life. The restoration has been extensive—rebuilding the hull, rewiring, repowering, and tackling countless other projects. Along the way, the family has worked closely with Haven Boatworks and many of Port Townsend’s talented marine tradespeople, investing not only in a boat, but in the skills and craftsmanship that keep our maritime traditions alive.

But the part of the story I love most isn’t the restoration.

It’s that Comrade regularly hosts gatherings that bring together descendants of all three families who have cared for her over the decades.

Think about that for a moment.

A boat conceived during the Great Depression is still creating connections nearly one hundred years later. She has passed through different hands, weathered changing times, and yet continues to bring people together.

To me, that’s what wooden boats do at their best. They become more than wood, engines, and hardware. They become part of our family stories. They carry memories, values, and traditions from one generation to the next.

This September, when you walk the docks, I hope you’ll stop by Comrade. She’s a beautiful boat, to be sure. But she’s also a reminder that some dreams are worth holding onto—and that the things we build with care can continue bringing people together long after we’re gone.

— Barb Trailer
Festival Director