Launch! • Tobias Lunt

At long last, Ariadne returns to the sea. Briefly.

Three people posing in front of the sailboat on jack stands at the boatyard — Launch day.

Final prep

Before launch, there was an extensive tick list to be handled - many jobs to either complete or half-ass enough to avoid causing new problems once the boat goes outside. The biggest concern at this point was whether the boat would float. More on that later. The second biggest concern was freshwater (rainwater) intrusion through the dilapidated deck. Freshwater is far more injurious to wood than saltwater as it facilitates rot, and saltwater largely does not.

Hull viewed from above inside the tent, showing new sheerstrake plank with bung holes — The most offensive sections of the covering boards needed to be replaced to protect the frame heads underneath.

Hull from below showing planking seams and chainplate fittings — Black goop caulked in the gap between the covering boards and the outermost deck strake. This particular goop is TDS. We hope it will give our deck another couple of years before we replace the entire thing.

Topsides showing rows of wooden bungs over the fastenings — The topsides, dotted with bungs over every fastening. Above the waterline we bunged everything; below, we filled with System Three QuikFair.

Moving out of the tent

Getting Ariadne out of her tent involved the boatyard’s front-end loader, a pneumatic trailer, and some careful maneuvering.

Full length of the sailboat hull viewed from below inside the tent, showing planking and copper fastenings — Moving the trailer into the tent was seriously stressful, at least for us. But the boatyard crews didn't bat an eye. Great work Justin.

Loading the boat onto the trailer inside the tent.

Pulling the boat out of the tent.

Out. First time seeing the full boat in daylight, out of the tent.

John Deere loader towing the boat down a tree-lined road with a police escort behind — Police escort through the island. Officer Mailman (actual name) was on the scene. Not every day a 42-foot sailboat goes down the road.

The boat on its trailer arriving at Chebeague Island Boat Yard, with the boatyard sign visible — Making the turn down into the boatyard.

The sailboat on its trailer at the boatyard with the harbor, moored boats, and islands visible behind — At the boatyard. After years in a tent, Ariadne can finally see water!

Closer to where she belongs.

The boat being set up on jack stands at the boatyard, two people positioning stands — Setting her up on jack stands at the boatyard. The trailer's job is done for now, until we finish the pre-swell and put her in the water.

Pre-swelling

Ariadne is tight-seamed carvel. A carvel hull relies on the planks swelling with water to close up the seams, especially when there is no cotton caulking or seam compound to rely on. Especially when the boat has been out of the water for years and is totally dried out, before launch, you need to soak the hull for days. Running hoses over the topsides and sprinkers the interior to let the wood take up as much water as it can before launch. The alternative is launching dry and watching the ocean pour in. Turns out we did that anyway.

The sailboat on stands in the boatyard, being sprayed with water from a hose — Soaking the hull. Hoses running to swell the planks before launch. These hood ends at the bow were the first planking work we did and ended up being problematic.

Person sitting under the boat on stands while water runs over the hull — Babysitting. You adjust the hoses, move them around, and anxiously wait for the dripping to slow.

View from above looking down into the cockpit with a green hose running water into the interior — It's okay if the cockpit fills with water a little bit, but you really aren't supposed to fill the hull from the inside - the boat was designed to take outward forces.

Interior of the hull showing frames and planking with water and a green hose running between them — Inside the hull during the soak. Burlap bags help to retain and distribute moisture. The sacks hold the water against the planks so the wood swells evenly. See all those white lines between planks? Yeah, that's daylight.

Water running through the hull during the pre-swell soak.

Launch

Our launch window only allowed us to pre-soak for a day. This felt…rushed. But hey, YOLO?

Time lapse from the cab of the boatyard's wheel loader, pushing Ariadne on the hydraulic trailer down to the water.

The three owners aboard for the first time. A tense and thrilling moment.

Pump!!!

Every old wooden boat leaks at launch. You plan for it — bilge pumps at the ready, a watch schedule to have someone watching around the clock — but it’s still unnerving to see water pouring in from the outside! We also had absolutely no prior experience with this, so had no idea what to expect. I won’t lie. I thought it was about a coin flip as to whether we’d make it from the launch ramp to the float where we had two gas-powered trash pumps ready and waiting. The boatyard crew thought that we might be better served going back on the trailer. But we went for it, and it all worked out.

At the end of the day, the new planking we put in took up great and didn’t leak hardly at all, which was extremely gratifying. EXCEPT a couple of sections up at the bow, where we had done our first planking work ever. So that was unfortunate. But we found a temporary fix (slickseam / quickseam) and will eventually perform a more permanent operation now that we are more confident and more skilled.

Ocean streaming in. Gas trash pumps ran around the clock for the first six hours, then gradually the seams closed up.

Bilge water between ribs and planking — The deeper you sink the boat, the more she leaks. But also the faster she takes up - how much chutzpah do you have today?

The sailboat tied alongside a dock viewed from above, with a pump and green hose on the dock — Finally can turn off one of the trash pumps.

Cockpit interior showing varnished wood and a green pump hose running into the bilge — Definitely a bit unnerving to have water up this high inside the cockpit. We'd let the water fill up to the cockpit seats before turning the pumps back on.

Close-up of the bilge showing water seeping in between planks and frames — Ingress beginning to stabilize.

Boat alongside dock with pump equipment — Pumps off, at least for a few minutes!

An adult and child in a yellow life jacket at the boat alongside the dock, pump hose still running — Thrilled (surprised?) she hasn't sunk yet.

A young child in a yellow life jacket sitting in the cockpit, smiling — First mate.

Low-angle view of the hull at the waterline at dusk, with glassy calm water and harbor reflections — At this point we began to sink her lower in the water and started calling her "the narco-sub" for obvious reasons.

Silhouette of a person standing on the dock at dusk with the boat and warm light over the harbor — Keeping watch at sunset.

Nighttime overhead view from the dock showing a red gas-powered pump on the dock with its hose running into the cockpit — The night shift.

Night view looking into cockpit from dock — The nights were calm and beautiful.

Two people aboard the boat at night, illuminated by a light showing the varnished interior — Late night welfare check. Sleep, what's that?

To the mainland

After three days, the leaking slowed to something manageable (pumps off for an hour at a time!) and it was time to get her off the island. She was towed across to the mainland and hauled out on the Travelift at Strouts Point for her transit to the midwest for further work.

Person sitting in the cockpit at golden hour, looking forward at the tow boat, with pump equipment visible — Golden hour under tow. A gas can and pump gear in the cockpit — still pumping.

Calm harbor at sunset with boats on moorings — Under way in the wee hours.

Distant view of the sailboat being towed across open water on a calm day

The wooden sailboat rafted alongside a white powerboat on open water, being towed — Preparing for arrival.

The sailboat suspended in the straps of a blue Travelift crane marked Strouts Point — In the Travelift at Strouts Point.

Two people standing beneath the sailboat hanging in the Travelift, showing the scale of the hull — The hull in the slings. Kind humans for scale.

Hull hanging in Travelift from below — Another angle - she looks like a shark out of the water!

To Wisconsin

At this stage in the game, the boat is solid enough to handle the vibrations and stresses of a thousand miles in a trailer, so we decided to take her to our primary state of residence to make it easier to finish the job. We had a trailer made to fit Ariadne and hit the road.

The Travelift lowering the sailboat onto a flatbed trailer at the boatyard — The Travelift sets her down on the trailer. Much fiddling and adjustment ensues.

The sailboat on a flatbed trailer at the boatyard with a shingled boat shed behind — On the trailer at Strouts Point, ready to go. Next stop: the road.

The sailboat on a trailer stopped at a gas station, showing the length of the hull — Gas station stop. This was a long rig — not something you see every day! Our pump neighbor asked if it was a submarine, justifying our "narco-sub" assignment earlier

The sailboat on a trailer hitched to a pickup truck, with green fields, a barn, and hills behind — It is a long way from Maine to Wisconsin.