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In the photograph above,
it’s May 20, 1901, and the spanking-new 126-foot steam yacht Cangarda
is about to head out into the Delaware River on her first trial run. Most
of us can appreciate how her clipper bow, low-slung sheer, and dashingly
raked masts and stack all beautifully reflect the great age of sail then
just winding down. But few of us can picture every detail of how this
vessel was built and operated a century ago, let alone how someone might
gloriously restore her from the forlorn hulk and warehouse of dusty parts
now residing in a Fairhaven, Massachusetts, shipyard.
Lo and behold, it turns
out that just such a man lives up the road from me here in Camden, Maine.
For years I’ve been aware of Capt. Steve Cobb’s multifarious
career in boats. Since graduation from Maine Maritime Academy in 1972,
he’s skippered pleasure yachts of all stripes, plus tall ships,
passenger schooners, diesel and steam tugs, museum vessels, and more—the
list of notable names like Wavertree, Nantucket, and Sarina
is very long indeed. He’s also managed some serious refits and advised
several significant maritime organizations. While long impressed with
all this, I was not prepared for where such experience and passion could
take a fellow like Cobb when entranced with a vessel like Cangarda.
As Cobb gazes at the
launch photo, he can almost hear the slight hiss of steam behind him as
he imagines preparing to take her off the dock from the open bridge on
her forward house. In his mind’s eye, the fitting-out is now complete.
Steadying sails are neatly furled to the pennant-topped masts, and the
enormous ensign snaps to the breeze aft. Fine small craft sit between
the pairs of tapered davits, and the full set of white canvas awnings
are stretched out on their frames to protect smartly dressed passengers
from coal dust and smoke. That bituminous smell mixes with the odors of
manila rigging and red leather-encased furniture arranged on oiled-pine
decks. Cobb is wearing the appropriate white-brimmed hat and dark-blue,
narrow-labeled, high-buttoned outfit; his deck and engine hands are in
white, almost in defiance of the coal.
Mind you that Cangarda
is a “bell boat,” meaning she lacks that classic brass “full
ahead” to “full astern” engine telegraph we might expect;
instead captain and engineer communicate via a large bell, a little bell,
and a code. Cobb knows the codes as well as the ever-so-deliberate pace
of steam power. The chief—along with his fireman and oiler—would
have been getting “a head of steam up” for hours, building
a coal fire just so, then slowly easing steam to the yacht’s seven
engines, opening petcocks here and there to drain off condensation until
all machinery is warm and ready.
Next page >
Cangarda, Part 2 > Page 1, 2,
3, 4
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