December 11, 2005

The Don Laing Story - The Last Year - Chapter 3

Pictured to the Left - Donny laying down the teak deck planks

Don was the outsider on this crew, but had taken over as leader, or so he claimed.  He was successful in convincing Marv, the owner, to move the yacht out of Port Hueneme, from a boat yard that was ripping him off, to Ventura Harbor.

I was, of course, reluctant to meet the crew, but as anyone on the first day of the job, had no choice.

As we came on board, the crew was already fast at work. Donny had struck out with both Crazy Dan and salty dog Lee Cook, both who which Marv had fired, so I was a hit or miss with the crew (and they were betting for a strikeout I later found out).

Don had complete command on the deck - laying down teak planks as only a skilled shipwright could do.

Bob and Andy were the skilled woodworkers dong the entire interior in teak, holly, maple and mahogany. Bob would last for the duration, but Andy would be let go in a few months.

Jose was the painter and (mainly) varnisher.  A good wooden craft requires dozens of coats of varnish and that's what Jose did - over and over again.  He was in at precisely 7 am every morning. He proudly paid all of his taxes, even though we were paid in cash and he wasn't quite yet a legal resident.  He was friendly but never one of the group.

The last of the crew was Willie, who drove in from Santa Barbara on his Harley and always last to show up.  He was Marv's boy, a wannabe Hell's Angel, but gentle as a lamb.  I was never clear how they met up until I gained Marv's trust. Willie did all the mechanical work (proving later that he was not all that good at it).

Marv, as I mentioned earlier, was back in Minnesota attending his mother's funeral. So I was here based solely on Donny's ability to convince Marv, when he returned in a few days, to hire me.

Meeting the crew was a cold task, and I immediately started plugging all the bung holes on the deck with teak plugs to cover the screws that attached the wood deck to the fiberglass substructure.  This involved counter-boring the plugs from a piece of teak, mixing the "googe" to bond the plugs to the deck, and plugging the screw holes - with the grain of the plug perpendicular to the grain on the deck plank, of course.

This was all well and good until the epoxy glue kicked and it was time to trim the plugs.  Here's where a bit of skill was required.  One had to trim the plug flush to the deck without being too high or low. After screwing a few up, Donny stated that a really sharp chisel was required and supplied me with one of the finest - a 1" Sheffield, sharp as sharp can get.

Before I knew it, it was lunch time. Donny had to run some errands and oddly, Bob the woodworker ask me to join him for lunch at Andrea's, the local seafood joint.  I noticed that I was really hungry and welcomed the opportunity to get to know at least one of the crew. Andrea's would become my staple for nourishment  for many months to come (with fresh grilled seafood at below-market prices being the norm).

Standard faire for lunch was fish & chips with fresh thresher shark as the fish.  It was great and both Bob and I had a chance to tell each other our stories.  He would prove to be a good friend for the duration, and even join us much later in San Diego.

After lunch, it was back to the deck. I mastered all aspects of plugging and trimming after the mistakes of the morning.  It was good to be working again, in spite of the fact that Donny failed to tell Marv that I was part of the crew. That would come in a few days and I'd have to prove myself all over again.

About 4:30 pm everyone on the crew headed home, but, of course, Donny and I went straight to the harbor's hot spot for a few beers and oyster shooters. We sat on a 2nd floor outdoor deck overlooking the harbor. It was a short after-work regrouping simply to allow Donny to reassure me that I was a critical team member on his new project - and that we would make s lots of money.

It didn't matter.  I survived my first day.  As he headed home to Jules in Santa Barbara, I took a long shower in the boatyard's sparkling new facilities.  By sunset I was feeling tired, sunburn and ready for bed.  Before I climbed into the only finished cabin on the yacht, I snapped this photo of Ventura Harbor from the bow sprite of Far Nienté. This was my new home. 

Once secure in the cabin, the gentle sea surge rocked me into the most peaceful sleep that I had had since leaving Yvette in Morro Bay.  Before my work on Far Nienté would end in Ventura, my brown hair would turn blond from the sun.  Many wondrous adventures were yet to come.

Note: As I said, the Don Laing Story is a slow work in progress.  When I'm on my next sabbatical (early 2007) I hope to rap up the condensed story here, and rewrite the actual screenplay.  After all this time, I still feel compelled to do both.