At the turn of the 20th century, the United States had significant generational wealth. As the nation neared its sesquicentennial, several industries produced enough wealth for individuals to pass on wealth to their children. Those heirs invested part of that wealth in luxury and recreation. The heirs of the Johnson & Johnson pharmaceutical company had wealth to invest in the early 1920s. They commissioned William H. Hand, Jr., to design a private yacht capable of transatlantic racing. Hand’s design became a two-masted gaff topsail schooner built by the Hodgdon Brothers Shipyard in East Boothbay, Maine, launched in 1924. The wooden boat was 160 feet long with 127 feet on deck. It displaced 147 tons and sported a mainmast that was 127 feet tall with its topmast attached. It could fly 7000 square feet of sail, propelling the ship to a hull speed of 13.4 knots (15.42 mph). That may not seem fast by today’s standards, but it was sufficient to make the Zodiac a serious contender in the King’s Cup Race across the Atlantic to Spain in 1928. For the race, she flew a jib and staysail off the front of the foremast, with the gaffed foresail behind. The massive mainsail, also with a gaff, was raised from the taller mainmast. Those sails were topped with a set of four topsails, which were borrowed for the race.

The Johnson & Johnson heirs didn’t keep Zodiac very long. In 1929, the ship was sold to Arthur J. Nesbitt of Montreal. He renamed the schooner Airdeane, and she was docked in Nova Scotia to cruise the coasts of Labrador and the Canadian Maritimes. Two years later, she was donated to the Grenfell Mission to provide medical and educational services in Labrador and Northern Newfoundland.

The great depression once again forced the sail of the ship. She was purchased by the San Francisco Bar Pilots, restored, and served as a pilot schooner for nearly 40 years, bearing the name California. Those years were good to the huge wooden ship as she was constantly maintained and regularly sailed. In 1972, she retired as the last American pilot schooner.

Fortunately for us, and for hundreds of other people who appreciate historic sailing vessels, the schooner was acquired by a group of shipwrights and sailors who brought her to Washington and undertook a complete restoration, replacing wood as necessary, sanding and painting her hull, replacing her teak deck, varnishing her masts, gaffs and brightwork. They polished the brass and eventually obtained a new suit of sails. She was added to the National Register of Historic Places ten years later. Since restoration, which included restoring her original name, Zodiac, she has served as a charter vessel from her homeport in Bellingham, Washington. She carries the tallest mainmast and largest mainsail on the west coast of the United States.

As Zodiac neared her 100th birthday, Susan and I were privileged to share a stateroom for a three-day cruise as part of our 50th wedding anniversary celebration. We joined the ship's crew, raising the sails, sharing onboard duties, learning navigation, and taking turns on watch. An excellent chef served us three meals daily while cruising around the San Juan Islands in the Salish Sea. It was a trip of a lifetime for us.

Sometimes life gives you an encore, and last evening, as part of our 52nd wedding anniversary celebration, we went on a three-hour sunset cruise on a Zodiac, complete with a salmon dinner. In contrast to our original cruise, the winds were favorable, and we were able to raise sails and cruise without the assistance of the engine last night. We worked the lines with the crew and were delighted to stay on deck except for the time we ducked below to get our dinner.

A dinner cruise was a different experience from our three-day cruise. Zodiac can accommodate 49 passengers for a day sail, but only carries 26 for overnight cruises. The larger number of people made the ship a bit more crowded, but the sails went up and down quickly with all the extra hands to handle the lines. Unlike our first cruise, I only helped raise the mainsail and took advantage of my age to sit and watch as the other sails rose. It made for a very relaxed evening.

As the captain expertly backed the ship into her slip at the Bellingham Cruise Terminal, we relaxed, sitting on a deck box, savoring our experience as the sun set behind the clouds. We were in no rush to leave. It was a glorious evening.

I’ve not yet felt the desire to travel aboard one of the giant floating hotel cruise ships that carry tourists around the seas. I have no desire to own a yacht. But I am charmed by a century-old sailing vessel. I love seeing her heading across Bellingham Bay toward the San Juans. I feel grateful for the historians and shipwrights who have worked to keep her legacy alive. I am awed by the power of the wind to move such a large ship across the water with such quiet grace. And, when the opportunity presents itself, I feel especially blessed to be invited aboard, even if just for a few hours. I have no idea how much pleasure Zodiac gave to her first wealthy owners. Perhaps they felt the exhilaration and joy of sailing, which I felt when I stepped aboard. Maybe they found time to lie on the deck and look up into the flowing canvas. Perhaps they spotted their reflection in polished brainwork and turned the latches of her beautiful portlight windows. I hope their joy was complete when they sailed. However it was for them, I am grateful that Zodiac went on to serve as a mission boat, a pilot boat, and now a floating history museum. I am grateful that I’ve been allowed to join her crew a couple of times.

Something tells me I’ll be coming back.