OF LIGHTHOUSES AND BOATS

A college economics professor I know likes to teach his students that free enterprise is not the answer to all situations.  Government intervention is sometimes necessary.  He often poses this question to his students: "Who, for profit, would build a lighthouse?"  Well, one of my piano tuning clients might well be just the person.  After all, he did build a boat in his basement.  A boat that was too large to ever exit the basement.  A boat that was never meant to set sail.  Why was it built? 

My client, who wishes to remain nameless, got hooked on the hobby of woodworking after taking a wood shop class in high school.  Hectic days at his law office were followed by relaxing evenings turning raw lumber into tables, chairs, cabinets, bookshelves, patio furniture, and just about anything else his family and friends desired. Often he would show me around his well equipped basement work shop to view his latest project, or, point out the differences between a table saw and a radial arm saw. He owned numerous woodworking machines and scores of hand tools. However, after more than forty years he ran out of projects.

Many times, while vacationing at the New Jersey seashore, he had noticed the many older boats made totally of wood.  The more modern fiberglass boats lacked the style and charm of their wooden predecessors, not to mention the meticulous craftsmanship.  Although he himself was not a boater, he obtained a set of plans to build a vintage sport fishing vessel.  Although it was a small boat it would still be too large to fit thru any of the exits from his basement.  He considered building it outdoors with an eye towards eventually selling it, but, the reality was that most of his spare time was in the later evening, so, daylight would become an issue as well as weather.  Also, he loved using his machines and wanted the project to be conveniently located near them.  Finally, due to their high maintenance, few sportsmen wanted wooden boats.  He decided it would be a labor of love, a work of art, and, it would be built in his basement.

Each time I visited to service his piano, I was treated to a trip downstairs to view the latest progress on the boat.  It was a slow moving, but, impressive undertaking. After about a year and a half  the boat was finished.  He never named it or christened it.  He did, however, prove it would float by filling the hull with water and letting it set a few days.  No leaks were detected.  The water was bailed out of the hull using buckets.  The boat sat in the basement for many years until he retired and the house was listed for sale.  Sadly, the vessel was sawed into pieces and hauled to the municipal dump.  He sold the contents of his workshop and he and his wife bought a small home at the seashore.  In time he may build that lighthouse.