Kindling the Flame

In the three years that John and I spent refitting our Formosa, we often ended our work day by wandering through the boatyard, commiserating with friends, and noting the progress being made on other refits. There were always beautiful boats to be admired and interesting tales to exchange, but there was one boat that we invariably saved for last. Thaleia, a gaff-rigged schooner whose namesake is the Greek goddess who personifies the movement of the waves, was the queen of the yard. Each day we stopped to admire the workmanship of her cold-molded hull, and strained to see the details of the traditional rigging. As we stroked the hull, we voiced our fantasies of sailing this ship on the seven seas. Even dry-docked this classic beauty stood proud and unblemished. Her lines are romantic; the rake of her spars, downright sensual. We only hoped that one day we would see her in the water.

After enjoying a hearty brunch on Mother's Day, we returned to the marina to see her at the end of the travel lift, in the water, launched after nearly four years of languishing on the hard. I couldn't believe my eyes! We walked over to the edge of the pier to get a better look, and we saw, for the first time, her decks. What a beauty! The planked iroko decks were accentuated by her brilliant red king planks and trim. It was as though she had donned her brightest lipstick and finest apparel just for our visit. As we feasted on this view for the first time, we remarked on the spacious, elegant cockpit, the water barrel mounted on the cabin top, the dead eyes and traditional rigging, and finally, just the overwhelming beauty of this creature. She's a ship that every mariner dreams of sailing.

Roger Landry and Anna Aleksandruk of Quebec made a perfect match when they chose the Bombigher Shpountz 38-40 as the ship they would build and sail around the world. Bombigher's carefully detailed plans are liberally sprinkled with his philosophy of art and life, and the Aleksandruk/Landry team's faithful execution of the drawings brought life to the boat and to the philosophy. They began building Thaleia in 1990 and their labors extended into 1996, totaling some 18,000 hours before she was launched. Their difficult decision to end their sailing adventure on Thaleia was made soon after her maiden voyage to Florida, after which they brought her to lie at Green Cove Springs.

We stood on the pier, mouths gaping, and a crew member in the cockpit asked if we wanted to buy this boat. I didn't drop a beat. "Sure!"

Needless to say, we had no intention of buying her-only the desire. We already owned a beautiful boat that we were refitting and were nearly ready to sail away. But when Roger invited us to come aboard, we didn't hesitate. Incredulous, we boarded Thaleia. He gave us the grand tour, inside and out, and we were smitten. The ship was even more beautiful below decks than above, and everything was like brand new.

It took exactly two dizzying weeks for us to become the proud new owners of Thaleia, and a third to be settled into our new home. When we signed the papers, we vowed to each other to make Thaleia our home on the sea forever and promised Roger that we would fulfill his and Anna's dream of making many voyages on Thaleia. In the beginning, I felt like an interloper in Anna's home, and John, a consummate boatwright was humbled by Roger's exquisite craftmanship. Though Thaleia was like new below decks, the sun and weather had taken their toll on her decks, rigging, and on the brightwork and paint. She was in dire need of attention before we could take her sailing but first, we had much to learn.

John began in earnest studying Bombigher's thousand-page, French construction manual, and I struggled, with assistance from some Swiss friends, to translate needed passages into English. I was much relieved to learn that Mr. Bombigher had already translated the entire manual into English, which we now own. The manual was Roger's bible as it is now John's-no task is begun until he has done the appropriate research and can quote Bombi's artistic rationale as well as his admonitions about varying from his recommendations. Like any ship, Thaleia needs constant attention to keep her shape, but unlike most boats, working on her is like restoring a fine object d'art.

Roger told us that the ship would attract many people along our path, and he was certainly right. Even now as we finish her restoration in a boat yard in Trinidad, she is the main attraction: people come by to take pictures and ask questions about her origins, and mostly, to remark on her beauty. We tell Roger and Anna's story time and again, and never tire of the look of wonder on their faces.

We'll soon have Thaleia back in the water where she belongs, and we'll soon have our own story to tell.