My earliest lake memories go back to grade-school-age family vacations on the north shore of Lake Superior. We did not own a boat, but I was always enthralled with the old wooden fishing boats we would find in old boathouses, or lying upside down on the beaches. As a young boy, I would occasionally see a cabin cruiser or sailing yacht pull into Grand Marais harbor. If that was not enough to peak a youngster’s interest, close by there was a Coast Guard station and the Coast Guard launch to capture my interest and direct my daydreams. Someday, I would have a boat!
I built model boats from scratch with old wood found in our firewood pile and my grandfather’s ancient tools. A few years later, my father caught the boating bug. After some research and a couple of trips to small boat shows, he purchased a canoe. To my younger brother and myself, this was the greatest. We could now venture onto the water in our shiny new canoe. That canoe provided water access for a number of years.

When I was thirteen, my best friend and I discovered some old fifty-gallon drums in the brush surrounding our favorite hangout, “the swamp.” What an opportunity this presented. We spent weeks scavenging lumber and hauling it by bicycle to “the swamp” to build a raft. We kept our project a secret so older kids would not steal it and from our parents because (of course) they couldn’t understand how to have fun and would have put a stop to it.
After much preparation and building, launch day arrived. With paddles snitched from my father’s canoe for propulsion, we cast off. Life jackets? Who needs them? We were invincible, but the raft was not. The drums began taking on water immediately. The vessel was completely submerged and gone in minutes. We each grabbed a paddle and swam to shore.
Water excursions for the next three years were mostly limited to afternoon jaunts at nearby lakes whenever one of the guys could con his mother into driving a carload of boys to the lake with a canoe or sailboat strapped on top. At the age of sixteen and the advent of new freedom found with driver’s licenses, three of us decided we needed a boat. My friend Carl obtained plans for a sailboat and the summer was set. We spent half the summer building his boat. With trips to lumber yards, hardware stores and marine centers, it was a great learning experience, the biggest lesson being builders should not take upon themselves to alter a designer’s plan. In an attempt to improve upon the design, the rest of the summer and most of the next were spent sailing on White Bear Lake and making repairs between outings. The repairs were necessary because we strayed from the plans. It was also a time to learn about driving and trailering. I was left with some very memorable experiences.
A couple of years later, I purchased my own sailboat that I used for a year until I discovered old cars. After that, the boat was sold and all my time and money went to cars. Then came marriage and cars also disappeared. I would not have another watercraft until my daughter’s first year. I acquired an old set of plans for a redwood strip canoe from an old Popular Mechanics magazine from 1955 or so. My daughter spend her first summer crawling around the garage floor while I built the canoe. That homemade canoe was used frequently in its early years.
About five years later, I found myself single again, and got back into cars. It was also at this time in my life I discovered power boats with a friend. We each had to have one of our own. I went through a succession of three fiberglass fixer-uppers, each time trading up without ever floating one. It was then I decided I had to have a new boat.
After a trip to the boat show in 1986, I was the proud owner of a new boat. My friend and I took it everywhere. It was on a trip to Rainy Lake that I met my present wife, Sharon. She enjoyed boating and developed a fondness for old cars like myself. Between us, we amassed a collection of seven cars. We decided to move to the country near Stillwater and trimmed our car collection to two old cars. Our small boat was no match for the larger boats on the river so we traded several times for larger ones. Our car collection increased then decreased to three. We decided we needed an old boat to pull behind our old cars and
combine our hobbies.
With no direction, we looked, we searched, we read magazines, we were confused. We drove our cars and talked about finding an “old boat”. Winter came, and with it the Minneapolis boat show. This year would be different. Instead of spending all our time with the new displays, we went with the intent to talk to “those people” with the old boats. We met Carl Weisser and signed up immediately. We attended all events and met new friends. We discussed building or buying a wood boat. We bought books, answered newspaper ads, bought boat plans, followed boat leads, and looked over plans more times than I care to remember. We found a boat - a 1947 Century - and purchased it, but it was less seaworthy than expected, so water time was minimal. Due to this, more members recognize us by our old cars than our boat. We do hope to correct this situation. In future issues, I will update you on our adventures and progress.