Steamboat Willy Ch. 01

I stopped dead in my tracks. I was walking along a backcountry road in Northern Central Florida. I was following a well-marked trail along what was supposed to be a very old stagecoach road. It was narrow and really just two ruts in the sandy earth. I heard a sound I would recognize anywhere.

It was the sound of someone using an adze or a broad ax to finish the form of a wooden timber. The sound is only distinctive to one who has heard it and the noises made by other hand powered cutting tools.

I turned and looked where it was coming from. The underbrush was too thick for me to see very far. I saw what appeared to be a narrow trail leading off in the direction I thought the noise originated from. I walked over to the trail and looked down it. I could see nothing. The noise had stopped. I started down the trail trying to make as little noise as possible. I was very curious. No one uses adzes any more. Well, a few people do, mostly purists who build timber frame barns and houses.

I heard a new noise, I recognized it too. It was a mallet or maul hitting a wood chisel. Now I was really curious. I followed the trail and could see there was some sort of clearing ahead. I pushed a branch aside and was surprised to be standing in a clearing. I heard a growl and looked to see a huge dog charging towards me.

I froze and was relieved to hear a woman's voice scream, "Stay Bud, stay." The dog slid to a stop a few feet away. The female voice said, "Please don't move Mister, he could hurt you badly."

"I bent over and softly said, "Bud, you are a good boy, give me your paw." I held my hand out and he wagged his tail and walked to me and put his paw in my hand. I shook it and stood up. I looked up at a movement and saw a figure move out of the shade under the roof of a shed. It had a dust mask over the face and held a Winchester Model 12 shotgun in her hands. I slowly raised my hands. She wore bib overalls over what looked like a bikini top.

"I am sorry Ma'am, I didn't mean to disturb anyone. I was walking the trail back there and I heard what I thought I heard the sound an adze or a broad ax, and then a maul and a chisel."

The barrel of the shotgun dropped bit. She laughed, "Where you really to tell what they were? Not many people have ever heard of them."

"I know, I have used all of them in the past and I just had to see if I was right, what are you building?"

"I am building two boats. Would you like to see?"

"Yes, Ma'am, I sure would. I can't believe some one is building a boat these days using hand hewn timber framing."

"I have trouble believing it myself sometimes." Most people have no idea of what I am talking about if I tell them what I do for fun. Well, there they are. This one is a Replica of an Ocklawha River Steam boat from about 1850. The one over there is a replica of a St.John's River Steam Launch. Circa 1830 to 1860."

"Wow! They are gorgeous. Look at the framing on both of them. Those are naturally bent timbers aren't they? God! They are superb. Did you do all of this yourself?"

"No actually my Daddy started both of these boats about ten years ago. He died four years ago and I vowed to finish them."

I carefully examined each of the boats. I looked at her. I still hadn't seen but a glimpse of her body or face, her long blond hair was braided and tied in a cloth tube. Her voice enchanted me. I smiled at her. "You have done very well. This has to be the frame I heard you working on. It by it's self is a work of art. Did you harvest the timber yourself?"

"Yes I did, I own 200 acres of old oak trees. The property runs right to the river. I usually just cut the branch that is shaped about right about a year in advance. I let them dry and then they are ready. I must confess that my father bent most of the limbs when he was very young. I often take a day and do the same thing for my children."

"How many kids do you have?"

"None yet, I am not ready yet, and haven't met that one very special man I am looking for."

"I think he will be a very lucky man. I hope you won't think I am being too forward but do you need any help with your projects."

"Do you know how to use these axes an other tools?"

"Yes, It has been a few years since I have had one in my hand but I don't think I have forgotten anything. My father and my uncle taught me well."

"What did they build?"

"Timber frame barns and houses."

"To be honest with you, I would love some help, I can't afford to pay much. I will confess I just don't have the time to teach anyone. Show me what you can do."

I walked over and looked at the rib she was shaping. It was neatly and carefully laid out and clearly marked. I picked up a broad ax and carefully looked at it. The edge was beveled or sharpened only on the left side. It was a left hand ax. I tested the edge with my thumb. I looked around and saw a mill file. I dressed the edge a little and it felt better.

I stepped up on the timber and with my left foot on a plank on the left of the frame and my right foot on the timber. I took an easy swing and a 10-inch long shaving, six inches deep and a sixteenth of an inch thick fell to the floor. I repeated the swings for about five minutes. I had finished a whole side of a frame. I stopped and looked at her. She walked over and carefully looked at my work. She ran her hand along the surface. She looked up at me with her eyes wide above the mask she still wore.

"That has to be the very best ax work I have ever seen. Even my dad wasn't that good or that fast. You split the layout line most of the way. When can you start? I have to warn you I pretty much just work mornings and weekends. I try to get in a forty-hour week but it seldom happens. I'll have to figure out how much I can afford to pay you. OK?"

"Hey, I don't expect to be paid. I am retired and am going crazy with nothing to do. I don't live far from here. My name is Richmond Murphy. Here is my card, call me any time. If I don't answer the landline try the cell phone."

Her clear blue eye's crinkled as she exclaimed, "I knew when you took that first swing you were good. You let the ax do the work with light swings. That one shaving had to be over seven feet long and was only about four or five swings. I can't believe it. Are you that good with an adze too?"

"I do pretty good on straight runs, I am not as good on curves, we almost never did them. I can notch, groove or bevel with the best of them. If you have a short adze or a carving ax I do pretty well with them too."

"Wonderful, I have maybe forty axes of most kinds. I can get anything you need from Sweden in a week or two."

"Well let me try your tools. I usually had axes with a left or right bend to the handle. It seemed to make them just a little easier to control. Have you ever used one like that?"

"No. We have a couple like that Dad got from somewhere. They should be here somewhere. I never tried them."

I saw her rummage around at the end of a bench. "Here, is this what you want?" They were exactly like my old broad axes. I carefully examined them; they were in perfect shape except for being dull. I grinned at her. "Ma'am, I have one serious problem."

"Oh no! What is that? Maybe I can help."

"What do I call you?"

She laughed and I loved the sound of her laughter. "I'm Sally Thompson. Call me Sally, and if you don't mind I'll call you Rich."

"Fine Sally, I'll see you tomorrow morning, what time."

She reached up and pulled the mask off her face. I was stunned. She was as cute as she could be. Not beautiful, her eyes were too big, she had a little ski jump nose. Her lips were curved in a smile that was a hair too wide. She smiled broader and said, "9:00. Have a good evening, Rich."

She turned and walked away. I was aware that there were delightful things that were moving around in the seat of the baggy overalls. I shook my head and looked for the path I had come in on. I yelled, "Sally, how do I get out of here?"

Her head appeared around a corner. "Come over here. Now follow this driveway until you come to a road. Turn left and go about four miles and you will come to a hard road. Follow that road to the right, it will bring you out at the old church,"

"Got it Boss Lady, see you in the AM."

I made it home by two o'clock and went into town and checked out three or four car lots until I found what I wanted. It was an old Jeep. It looked like shit but was tight in the running gear and purred like a kitten. It had the old F–head engine. I love those old four bangers. I paid cash and gave them a tip to deliver it to my place. It would be perfect for driving to work. I didn't want to drive my new BMW on those rough dirt roads. I always loved the older Jeeps and I could explore the backwoods in relative comfort.

I was at her place the next morning at about 8:15 and saw no signs of life. I found the two old axes and took them to the old foot treadle powered grindstone. I put new edges on each of them. I found several other axes and an adze and sharpened them too. I looked up and saw Sally watching me. She handed me a cup of coffee. I accepted it and followed her to where four or five logs lay in the shed. She pointed to an old sawmill. She said, "Have you ever operated a saw mill?"

I said it had been many, many years. She showed me the steam-powered mill. It was in good shape. She explained that the steam engine powering the sawmill was the engine for the smaller boat. She smiled and told me her father rigged the saw mill to the steam engine and said it would be the best thing in the world for the old engine to be kept in use.

I laughed and said, "That goes for old men too! I have just been rusting away, putting me to use may preserve me a little."

She looked me up and down, " 'Horsehocky' you look to be in very good shape and you aren't old at all. What are you, forty?"

"Close." I was actually almost fifty.

"The engine for the bigger boat is in that shed hooked to a generator. I light the fire about once a month and let run through a load of wood."

I smiled at her, "Use it or loose it."

She smiled back. I loved to see her smile. She showed me a list of the planks we needed to finish the launch. I tacked it on a convenient post near the saw.

She climbed on the forklift and started piling logs near the saw. I built a fire and checked the water tank and watched the pressure build.

Sally could really run that forklift and had a large pile ready. I had her put the next log on the saw carriage cradle. I engaged the hold-downs. I checked the log out. I measured its length. It was a 12 footer. I ran it through the saw then ran the carriage back. I loosened the hold- downs and took a peavey and rolled the log onto the freshly cut side. I clamped it down again and put the feed in gear and cut a second side off the log. After I ran it back I measured the small end of the log with a cutting square. It said we would get 12 2X6 planks from it. I squared it up.

I set the cutting guide to cut 2 and ¼ inch thick planks and let it run them off. Sally put another log on the carriage and we squared it up and got the same yield. Most of the logs she put on the pile were that size. Any that were not the right size were held off to the side. Sally waved good-bye to me about two o'clock. I saw her walk from her house to the carport. She looked nice, very stylish and quite lovely in a dress and heels.

I worked on until dark and was back at daylight. I didn't see Sally that day and I cut planks until dark again. The next morning I drove the Jeep to the nearest town and found a young black man who was willing to work for minimum wage. His name was Jeb and I liked him. He was very intelligent and willing to work. We made a darned good team and we cut a lot of logs into planks that day.

Sally showed up again the next morning. She looked a little tired. I had picked up Jeb again and she watched him work and told me to use him whenever I wanted, she would pay him. She was also very pleased with the amount of planking we had stacked up.

Sally climbed in the seat of the forklift and brought some more logs to us. She brought us some sandwiches and a pitcher of sweet tea for lunch. She seemed happy that afternoon and I teased her about it. She said she wasn't working that night and was going to relax and catch up on her chores. We knocked off about five and I drove Jeb home and told him I would pick him up in the morning. I went home and took a nice shower. I didn't feel up to cooking so I slipped on some clean khaki shorts and a T-shirt. I started for the door. On the spur of the moment I picked up my phone. I dialed and Sally answered. I said, "Sally, I don't feel like cooking and I hate eating alone, how about I pick you up and we go try out that new Bar-B-Que place up off 315 on 310?"

"Oh! Rich, that sounds so good. I'll do it if we go Dutch."

"I'll pick you up, what time? I'll be in that old jeep so dress accordingly."

"Give me fifteen minutes. Honk when you get here."

Fifteen minutes later I honked the Jeep horn and she ran out and jumped in. The restaurant was not crowded and we found a nice table. We had a very delightful meal. It was rustic with the food served on plastic foam disposable plates with plastic utensils and paper towels for napkins. Our waitress was one of the owners. Her husband was the cook. They were very friendly and I really like the baked beans. I told the waitress that I thought her husband had stolen my mother's receipt for baked beans. The one where you add brown sugar to the beans until you think it is just right then add one more cup of brown sugar. She giggled and said that was exactly how he made it.

We shared a rack of spare ribs and we couldn't eat it all. I looked at Sally and she had red sauce on her nose. I had her lean forward and dampened a paper towel and wiped it off. She closed her eyes while I did it and it was all I could do to keep from kissing her. I didn't let on how she affected me. I didn't want to frighten her off. I knew I was way too old for her.

After dinner I drove her home. We sat and talked for a couple of hours and I enjoyed it very much. Finally I told her my mean old grouchy boss would yell at me if I were late in the morning. I walked to her door. She turned and looked up at me, "Am I really that mean? I don't yell do I?"

I took her sweet little face between my big rough hands and kissed her tiny nose. "Sally you are a perfect delight to work for. I hope we can do this again some time."

"Really, I wasn't too grouchy this evening."

"Well, NO. You were very sweet, but I really, really do hate to eat alone."

"What?"

She saw the twinkle in my eyes. She smiled and curled my toes, "Thank you for thinking of me, I had a nice time. I think we should do it again."

The next morning we were back at it. Sally came out in her overalls and took the list from the post and started inventorying the planks. When we finished the log we were cutting she came over and told me to shut the mill down, it was time to start planking.

A rabbet, or notch had been cut the length of the keel for the edge of the first plank to fit into. I cut a matching bevel on the edge of the plank. We coated the joint with a modern sealant and nailed the plank in place. The sealant and the use of stainless steel nails were about her only concessions to modern technology. She insisted we were trying to build an exact replica using the same methods the old builders used. She said the people who often built these boats were not true boat builders but were often just carpenters.

The launches were more likely to be built using boat building techniques. The riverboats were usually built on site by local artisans. After the first plank was in place the rest went faster. Each plank had to be individually fitted and shaped. At the front there were extra sections of shorter planks, called stealers, inserted where the bow of the boat flared out.

In three weeks we had the last plank in place. We spent a week painting and varnishing. Sally hired a crane to lift the engine and boiler into the hull. Everything fit perfectly and was bolted in place before dark. I put the water intake in place the next morning and had the plumbing done by noon. The engine driven pump pumped the river water into a header tank. The engineer had to keep adjusting the flow to keep the tank full.

The machinery for the stern paddlewheel was lifted for us by a neighbor's backhoe. That all bolted up with only minor adjustments.

That afternoon Jeb and I framed in the hatches and rigged the steering. The steering was not complete because this boat was to be fitted with a novel bow rudder and with two stern rudders. This invention was patented back in 1866 for use on riverboats. We hoped that the extra rudders would enable us to operate without the use of extra crew needed get around sharp turns. Stern-wheelers were very difficult to turn sharply. These boats were designed to operate in three feet of water; nothing could stick down below the hull very far, and this limited the effectiveness of the rudders. Because these were flat bottomed boats and had only two inches of keel they tended to slide to the outside of turns very easily. The original boats used two slaves in the bow and two in the stern equipped with long stout poles used to push the boat around the turns.

Slaves being rather hard to find these days we opted for the extra rudders.

Sally and I talked about all this stuff over our weekly dinners every Friday. She was very knowledgeable about the history of these old boats. I really enjoyed being around her and I was afraid I was starting to like her too much. I loved to watch her.

We never went anywhere except local eateries and we always dressed very casually. I could tell she had a fabulous body but its was always hidden, never exposed. We teased each other unmercifully but never about sex or our personal lives. I still didn't know what she did for a living. I assumed she was a singer or dancer because she had once said she was in entertainment.

The bow rudder proved to be a challenge. It was designed to be operated by a separate helmsman. We had to keep the crew size down so we wanted to control it from the main steering station. A control lever that had three positions, OFF, HALF, and FULL, operated it.

I made a series of push pull rods and bell cranks to operate it. When all that was completed we finished the decking and tested the steam engine and paddle wheel. The overhead canopy was installed and the smoke stack and steam whistle were installed.

We had name boards on the canopy and I asked her what name she wanted on them. She laughed, "Do you remember the original name for Mickey Mouse?"

I thought for a moment, "Steamboat Willy?"

"Right, every body called my Dad 'Steamboat Willy' because his name was William and he loved these boats so much." I took the name boards down and took them to a sign painter and had the name done with gold leaf in beautiful old-fashioned letters. They looked just great on the boat.

Sally hired a large crane to lift the launch on a large trailer we had ready. A small bulldozer maneuvered the rig down a steep hill to Sally's dock and ramp on the river.

It floated. We jumped around like kids and I hugged and kissed Sally. She stared at me then grinned. "Lets light the fire and go for a test run. OK?"

"Hell yes, I've checked the bilges and there are no leaks. Jeb is hereby appointed to the lofty rank of 'Deckhand'. You are the Captain and I will be the Engineer."

It took a while to get the steam pressure up. We tested the steam whistle. It was grand! A very resounding toot, toot had all of us grinning. Sally looked at me, "I'm ready when you are. I checked the pressure and shifted the dog clutch into reverse. The paddle wheel turned very slowly and we slowly backed out. Sally turned the steering wheel and we turned. She looked at me and yelled, "Ahead slow."