No doubt everyone here is following the Race to Alaska — congratulations Team Malolo! — and the many triumphs and tribulations of the entrants.
But right here at South Park Marina, a race of a very different manner is taking place, that is, whether I shall finish the boat project or hand over the keys to someone else.
As a matter of fact, just today a fine gentleman named Benjamin Aaron, a writer and artist like myself, presented himself at the yard as a worthy suitor for this beautiful lady.
Mr. Aaron hails from Port Townsend, and is purposing to purchase the vessel and have her tugged via water to the waiting yard, where he will repair and furnish her to his heart’s content.
My ancestors lived in and about Port Townsend in the latter years of the nineteenth century. They report some gruesome tales of ships coming into harbor with the unlucky cargo of Chinese workers who had been shanghaid and illegally transported to the Pacific Northwest to work on the railroads.
If the Coast Guard caught a ship with this contraband, the brigands would pitch the poor souls overboard, manacles and all. Many a workman lost his life in those cold, dark waters, my grandmother recounted, and to the end of her days, it was with a tear in her eye.
Her father had been a civil engineer and built many of the structures that exist to this day in our state. He was so fair and kind to his workers, that even after his death, they would visit the widow and offer assistance.
I am wishing Mr. Aaron the best even if he chooses not to pursue this vessel, as worthy as she is. Copies of his books can be purchased here: www.thegallerypaper.com
