Growing up the son of an antique furniture lover fostered an interest and respect for quality craftsmanship. It wasn't until the summer of 2007, when I unexpectedly found myself the owner of a beautiful but tired 80 year old wooden sailboat, that I tried my hand at woodworking. I was told all she needed was a coat of paint. Once she was out of the water for the paint job, structural issues became apparent as did the true scope of project I was about to embark on. Intimidation, having zero knowledge of wooden boats, was quickly overcome by the romantic notion of fixing up a boat and sailing away. I dove in to the project with unfettered enthusiasm.
For three years the boat was a very patient teacher and I was its apprentice. Observation and quiet inquires of the vessel itself slowly revealed the stories and techniques of the knowledgable hands that built her. I would stare at the exposed framework and wonder how someone could build an item consisting of so many unique parts, almost none of which had a straight line on it, whose sum was beautiful yet highly utilitarian. My time with the boat drew to an end but my creative side had been awoken.
Two things became very apparent after working on the boat. The first was that the ocean had a much stronger hold on me than I could have imagined. The second, I needed to work with wood in a creative capacity. I wanted to focus my energy into building beautiful utilitarian items. From surfboards and spearguns to tables and boats.
