A Little Boat
04/01/12 04:15
I guess that I have long been a dreamer. I continue to invest time and energy in thinking about projects that I have not yet begun. I think that this quality serves me well in my profession, as it keeps me open to new ideas, new programs and new ministries for our congregation. I am more of a starter than I am an organizer. In order for my ministry to be effective, I need to surround myself with detail persons who can assist me with follow-up and program administration. Once in a while, those with whom I work need to call me to come back to reality and spend some of my time and energy completing tasks that need to be done instead of stringing out more and more new possibilities.
As a result, these days I am a bit reluctant to share my dreams in too wide of a circle. It is simply the truth that I will not accomplish all of the things that I am able to initiate. When I was young, I could file some projects for the future, but now that I have entered the waning years of my career, I know that I have dreams that will need to be accomplished by others.
Still, I have been thinking for more than a year now about a little boat. I know that Susan and I do not need any more boats. But our boats are all canoes and kayaks. Nearly 20 years ago, we owned a Sunfish sailboat, rescued from the junk pile at a boat dealer, carefully restored with a used mast and sail from another boat. The restoration left the little boat a tad heavy and though it sailed nicely, it wasn’t the right boat for a family with small children and when the time came for us to move, the time came to sell the boat. I haven’t missed that boat because we have had our canoes, which satisfy my need to get out on the water and I built a sailing rig for one of the canoes that far exceeds my skill as a sailor.
The boat I have been dreaming about, however, is a small rowboat. Small rowboats were used as working craft in the 19th Century. Efficiency was critical in these human-powered boats, so hull shape and boat design were very far advanced 150 years ago. In addition to being efficient, they were beautiful. The most famous of these boats in the United States were the Whitehall boats of New England. In a sense they were the height of their technology: a touchstone of small craft elegance and design. When I dream of a small rowboat, I imagine a beautiful wineglass transom and lap strake planking. The boat of my dreams is not too long, perhaps 15’, a little beamy, but less than 4’, so some speed can be achieved in rowing. It needs to have plenty of freeboard for handling waves, room enough for a couple of passengers, and stability enough that a parent might approve of a grandson going out with his grandfather. Ah, now I have spilled why I have been dreaming of such a boat.
As a boat builder, there is really one way for me to obtain the boat of my dreams. I need to build it. Now, I am no boat designer, so I will purchase plans drawn by a naval architect and use the advantage of others who have built such boats. Designer John Harris has a boat that meets all of my dreams, I think, though I have yet to purchase the study plans.
A few years ago a friend gave me a little book by Richard Bode titled First You have to Row a Little Boat. It is a lightweight book in many aspects, with a set of simple reflections on life. But the reflections ring true. And sometimes the truth isn’t complex. The boat starts with the obvious. Before one can become the master of a yacht, one has to learn how to row a small boat. The starting point has to be something that is achievable. And it is further true that rowing is a skill that is never truly mastered. There is always more to learn about handling any craft. I guess that I agree with the philosophy of the book, though this brief paragraph, of course, does not do justice to the little book.
So, it seems to me, that one of the things that a grandfather can teach a grandson is how to row a boat. It isn’t the kind of skill that is needed to master the Internet. It isn’t the kind of skill that will provide him with a way to earn a living. It is a life skill that will have to be applied in order to have meaning. Of course rowing for recreation is something that one can pursue in a meaningful way for a lifetime, but my aim is much higher than imparting a recreational hobby. As I said, I am a dreamer. I believe that a grandfather might be a part of a child’s discovery of the meaning of life and understanding of how to approach any number of challenges and problems that might arise in living. To the extent that I have achieved wisdom, is it not my responsibility to share it.
Thus a little boat is, in my dreams, a tool for teaching about life. And by sharing the dream in today’s blog, I guess I am moving the dream a notch closer to reality. I know that some of you who read the blog will ask me in a month or two, “Have you started to build that boat yet?” I think there is a part of me that wants that to happen. I know there is a part of me that wants to be able to say, “Why, yes, I have.”
But these things take time. A dreamer needs a support team of realists, who remind him of all of the priorities of a family’s time and financial resources. Some of the best things in life are worth waiting for the timing to be right. And there is a big difference between “I want” and the right thing to do.
Here is the thing. You do have to row a little boat before doing many other things. But it is not first. Before you row the boat, before you ever sit in the boat, you have to dream of the boat. And then, in the right time, you have to build the boat. Then, and only then, can you begin to row.
As a result, these days I am a bit reluctant to share my dreams in too wide of a circle. It is simply the truth that I will not accomplish all of the things that I am able to initiate. When I was young, I could file some projects for the future, but now that I have entered the waning years of my career, I know that I have dreams that will need to be accomplished by others.
Still, I have been thinking for more than a year now about a little boat. I know that Susan and I do not need any more boats. But our boats are all canoes and kayaks. Nearly 20 years ago, we owned a Sunfish sailboat, rescued from the junk pile at a boat dealer, carefully restored with a used mast and sail from another boat. The restoration left the little boat a tad heavy and though it sailed nicely, it wasn’t the right boat for a family with small children and when the time came for us to move, the time came to sell the boat. I haven’t missed that boat because we have had our canoes, which satisfy my need to get out on the water and I built a sailing rig for one of the canoes that far exceeds my skill as a sailor.
The boat I have been dreaming about, however, is a small rowboat. Small rowboats were used as working craft in the 19th Century. Efficiency was critical in these human-powered boats, so hull shape and boat design were very far advanced 150 years ago. In addition to being efficient, they were beautiful. The most famous of these boats in the United States were the Whitehall boats of New England. In a sense they were the height of their technology: a touchstone of small craft elegance and design. When I dream of a small rowboat, I imagine a beautiful wineglass transom and lap strake planking. The boat of my dreams is not too long, perhaps 15’, a little beamy, but less than 4’, so some speed can be achieved in rowing. It needs to have plenty of freeboard for handling waves, room enough for a couple of passengers, and stability enough that a parent might approve of a grandson going out with his grandfather. Ah, now I have spilled why I have been dreaming of such a boat.
As a boat builder, there is really one way for me to obtain the boat of my dreams. I need to build it. Now, I am no boat designer, so I will purchase plans drawn by a naval architect and use the advantage of others who have built such boats. Designer John Harris has a boat that meets all of my dreams, I think, though I have yet to purchase the study plans.
A few years ago a friend gave me a little book by Richard Bode titled First You have to Row a Little Boat. It is a lightweight book in many aspects, with a set of simple reflections on life. But the reflections ring true. And sometimes the truth isn’t complex. The boat starts with the obvious. Before one can become the master of a yacht, one has to learn how to row a small boat. The starting point has to be something that is achievable. And it is further true that rowing is a skill that is never truly mastered. There is always more to learn about handling any craft. I guess that I agree with the philosophy of the book, though this brief paragraph, of course, does not do justice to the little book.
So, it seems to me, that one of the things that a grandfather can teach a grandson is how to row a boat. It isn’t the kind of skill that is needed to master the Internet. It isn’t the kind of skill that will provide him with a way to earn a living. It is a life skill that will have to be applied in order to have meaning. Of course rowing for recreation is something that one can pursue in a meaningful way for a lifetime, but my aim is much higher than imparting a recreational hobby. As I said, I am a dreamer. I believe that a grandfather might be a part of a child’s discovery of the meaning of life and understanding of how to approach any number of challenges and problems that might arise in living. To the extent that I have achieved wisdom, is it not my responsibility to share it.
Thus a little boat is, in my dreams, a tool for teaching about life. And by sharing the dream in today’s blog, I guess I am moving the dream a notch closer to reality. I know that some of you who read the blog will ask me in a month or two, “Have you started to build that boat yet?” I think there is a part of me that wants that to happen. I know there is a part of me that wants to be able to say, “Why, yes, I have.”
But these things take time. A dreamer needs a support team of realists, who remind him of all of the priorities of a family’s time and financial resources. Some of the best things in life are worth waiting for the timing to be right. And there is a big difference between “I want” and the right thing to do.
Here is the thing. You do have to row a little boat before doing many other things. But it is not first. Before you row the boat, before you ever sit in the boat, you have to dream of the boat. And then, in the right time, you have to build the boat. Then, and only then, can you begin to row.