Going the extra meter...

Remember Havhesten, that tubby little Dutch-design boat I wrote about sailing on last spring, the one that belonged to my friend Ole, the Danish ropemaker?

Well, Havhesten--like the fat little fulmar chicks it is named for-- is now maturing into a larger, more majestic creature. Deemed too small for a comfortable retirement craft, Ole talked to the builder about the possibility of lengthening her--one of the great freedoms of steel construction. The plans were redrawn and Ole delivered Havhesten back to the yard where she was built in 1990.

Then the shipwrights donned their goggles, lit their cutting torches, and set to work. Being truly skilled craftsmen, they expertly sliced Havhesten's steel hull in half amidships. Utter perfection! Just look at that cut!--and the brick wall peeking through. I was thoroughly impressed when Ole showed me these pictures. Note the jog in the cut under the cabin roof too. By cutting in different places they can better preserve the lovely, flowing sheer lines of the boat as a whole.

Next, the two halves were pushed 1.9 meters apart to accomodate the new section the shipwrights would build in the gap.

In celebration of this great moment in the life of Havhesten, Ole and the shipwrights had to stop for a beer, some bread and stinky cheese, and a bit of Gammal Dansk--a bitter, foul-tasting, but wildly popular schnapps found all over Denmark.


Then the construction of the new section began. First the bulwaks, upper hull, cabin top, and a keel plate were cut and welded in place and Havhesten immediately began to reveal her new lines. She will certianly have a totally different appearance--much sleeker and faster looking.

But she'll be much more spacious too. The added 1.9 meters will make room for an enclosed head (toilet room) and an office/navigation space. Note the new porthole marked in chalk on the steel plating on the left.

It is odd for me to look at these photos. I recognize the space so well. After all, I spent a week sailing through Danish waters on this boat with Ole last summer. I had a bunk right...where that big hole is. Wow...

And on deck! What a different view. It has the same components but the deck is so long, the bow is waaaay up there! She will certainly handle differently under way--so long, and narrow.
Then having the mast stepped in a different spot and the larger sails the sailmaker is working on right now... she'll be faster, that's for sure!

Now that the hull is being closed up with the final plates, I can hardly wait to see her come out of the yard and to try her out in a good stiff breeze! Ole has already set the date for the christening party, a fantastic celebration of a new--or renewed--vessel's entry into the water. Music, food, and drink; lots of good people, a lovely harbor, and a fine sailing craft eager to take to the sea... who could ask for more?

On the lamb...

Sometimes you just never know what you are going to run into in this town.

One day while my folks were visiting, we took a walk on the island of Djurgården--the same island the Vasa Museum is on. All of a sudden, this huge flock of sheep came pouring out of the woods!

Djurgården, meaning 'animal garden', is a mighty big park. It used to be the private hunting preserve of the king until he got uneasy about something and turned it into a public park in the 1750s. But the park is right smack in the middle of town. Even though it is wooded and all, it is still a city park like Central Park in New York. I mean, you still meet sweatered chiuahuas and weiner-wagon kitchenettes out there. You just don't expect to run into a flock of sheep.

But there they were. They came zipping down out of the trees with a couple of collies yipping and nipping at their heels, and then--totally unfazed by our presence--they settled down to business--all kinds of business. Until that moment this had been one of the prime picknicking fields on the island. Then the sheep arrived--marching right through one picnic spread--and set about their grass processing... with the inevitable lawn fertilizer treatment.

But at least we know the grass will be greener next year. Really, it is a pretty good idea; the city parks only pay a single handler. The dogs consume only a tiny operating budget and the sheep--virtually self-sufficient--save millions of crowns worth of fuel and expensive mowing equipment. Plus they create a nice ambiance, fertilize the grass, and don't make much noise--just a rather disgusting slurping and chawing sound. Really, a very good idea.

Besides, people are always inclined to chase the geese. So the city might as well get a bigger lawn maintenance creature less likely to 'take off' on its own and complete with its own protective canine escort, right?