My dad had the Lugger down in my sig. He had lusted over that boat since the 1970's. Not too many are over here in the states as it's an open boat made in England.
In 2005, after thirty five years of dreaming of having one, he drove half way across the country to pick up his new to him Lugger.
The following years were met with various difficulties for him and in 2009, he started having a fever for reasons his doctor couldn't figure out. In 2010, a man I always knew as ten feet tall and bullet proof succumbed to cancer. He never had taken the Lugger out. Thirty five years of dreaming of her teak rails and classic lines
, he never got to experience her.
About 8 months later, I sat on the back porch staring at this Lugger in my yard with her title in hand, now in my name. She was rough around the edges but I admired her lines
. She needed a lot of sanding, her spars refinished, some canvas patched, some lines
I wasn't sure if I was going to keep her or sell her. I had come across the pamphlets Dad had collected and kept and learned he never took the helm of her. To hell with that, and I pushed myself up out of my chair.
I sanded and repaired her then worked with some people overseas through email to figure out her rigging
. She was bright and gleaming, ready to go at a moment's notice.
I made sure the bottle of wine was onboard before I slipped her into the water for the first time. I shoved off and hoisted all three sails. The tanbark sails filled with a breeze and her bow sliced through the water.
With tears in my eyes, I toasted the heavens, "For you, Dad."