"I could do that" said Frank, "but I can't afford the boat".
"Why don't you build your own?" suggested his mate Geoff.
The seed was sown and plans began to take shape. First thing was to build a scale model, a beautiful little boat about 3 ft long. Next thing was to draw up the plans full size. Not one to do things by halves, Frank's boat would be 53ft long with a 15ft beam. Geoff got the use of the space under the Clontarf State High school and the templates for the ribs became a reality. What now?
Then you go to the bank and negotiate a loan and the die is cast. Well almost! Up to now you could chicken out at any time. Then you order the keel. You can still change your mind. The day comes when a big timber lorry pulls up at your front gate bearing a tree trunk, forty feet long.
It's still not too late.
"Where do you want this, mate?" the driver inquires.
"Just drop it on the lawn" Frank replies and KERPLUNK! That's where it lands.
NOW it's too late. You are committed. So you take your little Austin and you tie your best timber hitch around the tree and you drag it round to the back lawn. There you shape it and then somehow get it onto the stumps you have prepared at just the right angle and voila --- there is your boat. Can't you just see it?
For the next 13 months, that back lawn was a hive of activity, buzzing with the sounds of power saw, planer and drill, and busy with friends and neighbours as they shared the thrill of watching a dream become a reality.
At that time in Brisbane, there was a building boom. Old houses were being demolished to make way for new office blocks and shopping centres. Demo yards became the source of most of the timber - well-seasoned pine. The Tivoli Theatre in King George Square supplied the large slab of oregon, which became the transom. All this, of course, entailed lots of nail pulling and paint scraping.
Grown knees, for joining keel to stem and keel to sternposts etc. were ordered. This old bloke would traipse through the tea tree swamp, chain saw over his shoulder; to find just the right angled branch to suit your needs, large or small. And he found Frank some beauties.
Slowly she takes shape; first the rib frames then the stringers, decking, gunwale, wheelhouse, neighbours encouraging all the way. Finally the sheeting, 7/8 inch marine plywood. The Harbour and Marine surveyor reckons jellyfish could swim through it, but what does he know? Frank knows that they couldn't get through the stringers. They are too close together. Now the engine goes in and the propeller goes on.
SHE IS READY FOR THE WATER.
The moment of truth draws near. Gemini has been painted and the water line determined, red anti-fouling below and white above. Two cranes are ordered, which will carry her down the slope and set her in Bald Hills Creek on the high tide. A few saplings are removed to make a clear way.
The great day arrives, friends and neighbours assemble, the press turns up and all the children take the day off school. Excitement runs high, hard labour forgotten. Slings in place and up she goes. Oops!! They've dropped her. Picking her up we find she's been speared by one of the sapling butts, easily fixed but not a good start. Finally they lower her gently into the creek. Frank can?t wipe the grin off his face. She floats EXACTLY on the water line. Of course he always knew she would.
AND NOW BACK TO SEA.
Finally, a tribute to some wonderful neighbours! There was not one complaint from go to whoa, either direct or second hand, about screeching power tools. When told how much we appreciated their tolerance, Glad remarked "That's O.K! Just don't build another one".
For many years she fished the Queensland coast mostly out of Mooloolaba.
She was eventually sold and was wrecked in Hervey Bay while returning from a fishing trip.