Snapshot Of A Boating LifeBy Michael Vatalaro
Published: December 2011
A search for nautical "roots" turns up a bigger question: What makes us cherish the boats that we love?
For the past couple of years of used-boat shopping, my wife Stephanie and I have searched and circled back to certain boats, searched and circled back again, wading through options and styles that are at times vast and confusing. We've made many lists about what we must have, what we'd like, and what we each could and couldn't live without. There were deal-breaker features that we've both agreed upon, and through it all we slowly winnowed down our choices.
We decided that our next boat needed at least two berths, one for us and one for the new baby we were hoping to add to the crew, plus a transom door and swim platform for our dog Finn, who's very much part of the crew already. The boat had to be seaworthy enough to get us across the Chesapeake with no worries, have enough shade to keep us out of the sun, and faster than our present boat, to make day trips more practical. We were in sync on all these things, until Stephanie saw an Albin 28.
"But, Steph, it barely cruises faster than our Marinette," I said, on alert that one of my most beloved features was on the table.
"I know," she said. "But I love this boat — the pilothouse, the look. It feels right. It feels like us."
We went around and around on this as, over time, her feelings for the Albin grew stronger until eventually she won me over as well. Mercifully, we now at least know the kind of boat we'd like to buy, and we can picture our lives in it. Meanwhile, we continued to enjoy another season on our present boat, hoping it would sell, and Stephanie and I received the happy news that we were expecting our first child. And then we got sad news; Stephanie's grandmother Ruby had passed away.
Stephanie, age 4, at the wheel of her grandfathers 26-foot Penn Yan.
A Legacy Of Boating
Ruby was a central figure in Stephanie's life since she was very young. After her father died when she was nearly 3, she lived with Ruby and her grandfather Jim. Her grandparents not only helped raise her and her older sister, but they also ran the daycare where she'd spend(t) her time during the week. On the weekends, Stephanie remembered Ruby and Jim packing up the whole family and heading to Lake Erie, to the trailer that was their home away from home on Catawba Island overlooking Herl's Harbor Marina, near Port Clinton, Ohio. There, they fished and played aboard a series of boats that Jim loved.
"They were there constantly on weekends," says Stephanie's aunt Edie. "It was easy and fun. We'd go up as young couples, go fishing, waterskiing, or just head over to the winery on the island. When we started having kids of our own, we'd bring our children up with us. We'd catch pounds of walleye and perch and cook them up for dinner."
Ruby kept a journal of those idyllic, hectic days, recording each visitor, little anecdotes about the kids, what everyone did, where they took the boat, what they caught, how they cooked their meals, and so on — for 25 years. Through her detailed recordkeeping, you can watch their sons' girlfriends become wives, and read about each new grandchild's first visit to the lake.
For generations the Kleisers have cruised the waters of the Pacific Northwest in the same boat
A century has passed, but the boat still sails, and a family still treasures the memories that held four generations together
A son pays homage to the man who quietly instilled his love of the water
Lasting Love For The Legendary Lyman
Dan Bracken of Cleveland, Ohio, owns one of Stephanie's grandfather's old Lymans — the 1970, 23-foot Offshore Lyman that Jim West originally purchased four decades ago. Bracken has owned nine Lymans in his lifetime. The son of a home boatbuilder, he grew up listening to his father praise Lyman as a designer and a builder.
Founded in 1875 by cabinetmakers Bernard and Herman Lyman, Lyman Boats was originally based in Cleveland, where they turned out high-quality, lapstrake rowboats and sailboats. Their 15-foot rowboat, with its tall, plumb bow and extended keel, could comfortably hold five passengers and was used by the City of Cleveland Lifeguards at the turn of the century.
Early Lymans had a nearly plumb bow, with a fine entry that helped slice through Lake Erie's legendary steep chop. They became the preferred boat in the region during the post-World War II boatbuilding explosion, turning out as many as 4,000 a year. "Lymans were designed for Lake Erie," says Bracken. "The clinker-built lapstrake-hull design traps a foil of air under each strake when the boats get on plane, improving performance." In the 60s, the bow angle took on a more raked-back profile and the availability of reliable and more powerful inboards from Chrysler and others further improved the performance. The Lyman family would produce wooden boats on the shores of Lake Erie for nearly a century, closing up shop for good in 1973. Lymans are still sought-after classics on the lake, with an owners' group 500 strong and several websites dedicated to their maintenance and restoration.
Bracken's eighth Lyman, a 25 Offshore, was named My Last One by the previous owner. "I liked that so much I didn't change it," he says, "But then I got another one."