The Story Of Greenhorn I
From A Dream To A Plan
By John Hayes
I had never been what I would describe as a boater, but boats had always held a fascination for me. Over the years I’ve collected many good memories that were somehow boat related. As a young boy, some of my first memories were of trips to St Lawrence Seaway locks near our home to watch the ships go through. I continued to be drawn to the water and boats, but regular types of boating didn’t appeal to me. I’ve never been a big fisherman. Much as I enjoy sailing, I don’t always like being so dependent on the available winds. And I could just never accept the fuel consumption of fast powerboats.
The year I turned 40 I stumbled across PMM for the first time, while on vacation. Here was a magazine dedicated to a different type of boating. The more I read the more I realized this was precisely the type of boating that did appeal to me. PMM had only been publishing for a few months at that time, but before my vacation was over I had read that issue cover to cover, ordered the few back issues available, and subscribed.
A couple of years went by and somehow during that time an old dream was rekindled and redefined. My dream was not unusual: It was the standard “trade house for big boat and wander the world chasing pleasant weather and interesting places dream. My wife pointed out something that I should have realized but somehow hadn’t stopped to think about. If I really wanted to end up traveling on a big boat, it was going to require some preparation and planning. She had highlighted for me that to make the jump from the dream to reality I would need a plan to get me there. She also suggested that if I was ready to spend some time on the water, perhaps I should talk to my Dad about finishing what has always been known in my family as “the boat.”
“The Boat”
In 1967 my family moved to Ottawa, Canada, at the north end of the Rideau Canal. My father saw the potential of the canal system as a wonderful opportunity for recreational boating. He came across plans in a magazine for a 25–foot David Beach designed cabin cruiser. Now he didn’t have the space to build a boat that size, but being an engineer, he didn’t have much trouble adapting the plans to suit his available garage space.
In 1968 he started building an 18–foot plywood and fiberglass boat with lines that might be best described as being tug–like. He planned her for an outboard motor with sleeping accommodations and a head. She would be ideal for day, weekend, or even week long trips on the 125–mile–long Rideau Canal system. But the boat wasn’t always his first priority and the demands of family and career often delayed construction. When my wife suggested I finish “the boat” in 2001, the hull had been completed and fiberglassed. There were no cabins yet. There hadn’t been much progress for some time. My father’s health had not been ideal and this limited his ability to work on the boat. Taking over the project seemed like a good idea. Without having to commit too much money, I could finish the boat and get out on the water. Although she was only 18 feet long, like the bigger boats of my dreams, my wife and I could travel and live on her, if only for a few days at a time. She could have 110 and 12 volt power systems, VHF radio and GPS, water systems including a head, and even a galley of sorts. She might well be an ideal boat to get me on the water more frequently. Our home is located within a few hours drive of not only the Rideau Canal system, but also the Trent–Severn Waterway and the New York State canal system. With most of the best canal cruising opportunities in North America within a few hours of home, an 18–foot boat that would trailer easy would be ideal.
Although it seemed like a great opportunity for me, I was unsure of what my father would think. After all it had been his dream for a very long time. At a family get together I broached the subject. I was relieved and pleased to find he was thrilled about the possibility of seeing the boat completed and launched.
Work Begins
I started working on the boat in the spring of 2001. Until the following fall I made the 5–1/2–hour drive to my parent’s home whenever my schedule would allow it. I had helped my Dad apply the fiberglass to the hull in the early 70s but the surface wasn’t all that smooth, and although the resin had been colored blue, it wasn’t all that uniform either so I decided to fair and paint the hull dark green. Although I had used fiberglass and resins on occasion in the past I didn’t have a lot of experience, but with some research and good advice I started. It was hard and dirty work but I was quite pleased with the results and I learned a lot along the way.
With the hull exterior finished I started working on the cabins and interior framework. Because the plans had been scaled down they were helpful for determining a style, but all of the detail of the cabin design was up to me. Unlike the fiberglass though, my background as both a hobby woodworker and an engineer prepared me well for designing and building cabins. Given that I was building a trailer boat that would not often be in the water for more than a week or two at a time, I felt I could use materials that were light, easily worked, and familiar to me. The construction is primarily 1–by–2 and 1–by–3 inch pine and one–quarter–inch and three–eights–inch marine plywood.
I completed both cabins without any glue for the first time, partly because I was designing a lot of the details as I went and occasionally had to backtrack and change things. But besides that, the garage door opening wasn’t tall enough to move the boat with the forward cabin in place. Before the cabins could be permanently added I needed a larger workspace.
Fortunately, about this time, a friend purchased a place in the country close to my home. It had a large shed he hoped to rent out to people looking for storage. So for the first time in the over 30 years, “the boat” left my parent’s property in Ottawa and made the trip to Southern Ontario and her new home.
With a 10–foot ceiling and a full–height door, construction moved forward. Having completely built the cabins once, they came together quickly the second time with plenty of marine glue and boxes of woodscrews. I fiberglassed the exterior of the cabins and the deck surfaces. Besides adding a measure of water and abrasion resistance I was surprised by the amount of stiffening a single layer of fiberglass added to the one–quarter–inch cabin roofs.
Launching “The Boat”
By the summer of 2004 things were coming along well. We chose a launch date in September, in part to give me an extra push to complete a few things that had been taking longer than I thought they should. By now “the boat” had a name. I held a contest with my nieces and nephews and the winning name was Greenhorn. Besides reflecting the dark green color of the hull, it also reflected my inexperience on the water, and the purpose of the boat as a floating classroom to help me learn more about boating. She was registered Greenhorn I since a wooden fishing boat on the east coast already had the name Greenhorn.
Besides being my parent’s home, Ottawa is also Greenhorn I’s home port, and she was designed and built for the Rideau Canal system. So, although a six–hour drive away, I felt the only option for a launch site was Ottawa, at Dows Lake on the Rideau Canal. In the early afternoon on a perfect fall day in late September 2004 champagne was sprayed all over the bow, the bagpiper played the Skye Boat song, and 36 years after her keel had been laid, Greenhorn I slipped into Dows Lake witnessed by over 100 friends and family. The first cruise, the “builder’s cruise,” took three generations of boatbuilders, my father along with a granddaughter who had also helped with the construction, and me, for a short trip around Dows Lake.
Being essentially a scale model of an unusual design we had no idea what to expect. Our best hopes were exceeded as we found she handled exceptionally well, was very stable, and could carry a good load. The only adjustment was that although she was launched with 300 lb. of lead in her bilges she was a little light and high in the water with only one person on board. On launch day however, this was not a problem as we carried many passengers all afternoon with as many as eight adults comfortably on board during one trip. It was without question a momentous occasion and a wonderful day for all of us involved in the project over the years. Soon after the launch, with cold weather approaching, Greenhorn I was moved back into her shed. As fall turned into winter I got thinking about the launch experience. I was a little concerned about the motor. It was a 1978 Chrysler two–stroke outboard intended for sailboats. The motor had been purchased brand new for the project and have never been run until a few weeks before the launch. Amazingly it ran very well! At 10hp it provided more than enough power and good control, but I was concerned about reliability, and with a 4–knot cruising speed, the unpleasant prospect of two–stroke exhaust drifting through the cabins on a following breeze seemed likely.
About the same time I was starting to consider a few more things that needed to be added for overnight cruising. Paramount among these was the ability to make morning coffee. It seemed to me that mixing flammable liquids or gases, and a boat, and me in the pre–caffeinated state was a recipe for disaster. I started looking at coffee–making alternatives that did not involve open flames. This was when several requirements merged and, like a lightbulb turning on, I knew what I had to do. The boat didn’t need much more power to reach displacement speed: Anything above one–half throttle from the outboard only generate