The plywood and the oak arrived today at lunchtime. It being a workday, I rode my bike home to meet the truck. The driver was a small but extremely wiry gentleman, with a weatherbeaten face and a bandy-legged gait, wearing well-worn leather chaps, a cowboy hat and a belt buckle the size of a serving platter. Turns out he was a retired cowboy. He had to drag a large pallet from the truck to the back alley so we could put it in the detached garage, using a hand-operated hydraulic forklift. Since the end of the pallet dragged on the ground, I helped by putting a two-wheeled dolly under that end, standing on the dolly on my left foot and pulling on it to keep the pallet from dragging, and pushing with my right foot while madly hopping along like Hopalong Cassidy. I wish I had some video--I'm sure we must have looked hilarious.
Anyway, after getting the pallet (which was built to withstand all manner of natural and man-made disasters) into the garage I had to take it apart to inspect the merchandise. I did and offered the cowboy gentleman a tip, which he adamantly refused with great dignity. This was the kind of guy I wouldn't mind sharing some whiskey with in some saloon somewhere. I then wolfed down some leftovers and cycled back to work.
So tomorrow will mark the first day of actual boatbuilding. I'd better measure twice or thrice and cut once, as they say. Wish me luck.
For more adventures in boatbuilding, keep reading 176inches.
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