Submitted by Libby Garcia
On October 9, beautiful after her haul-out in Port Townsend, her bottom repainted and masts refinished, the Phoenix was anchored outside the boat yard when an unpredicted storm dragged her onto the breakwater. Two other boats were needing rescue at that time, and since there was no one aboard the Phoenix, she was lowest priority for rescue. She hit the rocks, sunk at high tide but not completely submerged. This made recovery of some important items easier, but complicated her removal as she could not be lifted off with floats, nor easily dragged off.
As the days wore on, the leaning masts (each weighing a ton) levered her further onto the angular rocks, eventually creating four holes, the largest of which was the size of a garage door. As she sank into the boulders, her inner rod and wire mesh clung like custom-made steel Velcro to the rocks, and it took the creativity of several captains, the volunteering of divers and deck crews, and 18 tide cycles to get her off. Favors were called in, a repurposed army vessel and SJI’s own Pintail plus a giant crane finally pulled her free, but not before the task got personal for the rescuing crew, with Dan Wiggins of Craftsman United (and owner of the huge crane and the army vessel) saying, “it’s between her and me now- I’m going to get her off those rocks.”
The video of the Phoenix finally breaking free from the break water is unnerving, with her bow headed down under before the floatation brought her deck above the water’s surface again, her windows smashed out like so many missing teeth, her masts removed to make the task easier. Nine days after she drug anchor, an exhausted Jim steered her into the waiting lift, suited up in his dry suit, his feet planted squarely on deck, sometimes above the water, sometimes well under.
Once in the yard it became apparent to both the knowledgeable and the ignorant that the repair was going to require special skill that not many possess. Jim, who, operating solo built the masts from Orcas trees, wrapped the shrouds with seine twine (all 500 feet of them), lathed the 32 deadeyes, and learned blacksmithing to make the chainplates, is no slouch when it comes to acquiring new skills and putting in long hours on his boat.
But first he had to survive the reality of the wreck, which had been his home for seven years; the inside was a cold wet mess. Rivaling any photos of a flooded residence, it reeked of diesel and the intertidal and after a few days, of decay. Jim’s belongings were in a jumble: paperbacks, art, boat parts, tile, kitchen goods, carpet, bedding, mementos. The beautiful trim wood that had been stacked neatly when she went down was akimbo like a giant’s game of pick-up sticks, now covered with slimy sediment. Seaweed, crabs, jellyfish and q-tips adorned every surface and cranny. Surprisingly, almost all of Jim’s belongings were still on board, each item needing cleaning or disposal. It was, most literally, a wreck.
So began 17 weeks in the yard.
Lots of people helped out over those weeks, turning this disaster into an underdog’s success story. Load after load of belongings were removed to the dumpster or storage to dry and sort later. She was placed on jack stands under strong lights, a beacon for the curious. Still well photographed, the Phoenix sat dripping, her rusty exposed underwires twisted into molds of the boulders that made them.
There were so many questions from passersby, an endless stream of encouragement and pessimism. Not one of the yard staff thought her salvageable as she moved through the washdown station for a thorough pressure washing inside and out.
Part of the problem was that ferro-cement boats are unusual, so although she landed in a boatyard that had collectively made thousands of repairs, little knowledge of cement repair existed amongst the local experts. Fortunately a ferro-cement expert was available, but he did not want to do the repair. Don (who cut his teeth on the construction of the King Dome and came to the boat yard to view the Phoenix when she was built in 1972) agreed to coach Jim.
First, all damaged wire and cement was removed with tiny nail punches. One tap at a time, all the crumbled concrete came out. Jim’s spirits were flagging badly. He lucked out in finding the assistance of Jessica, who neither shied from rescuing ooze-covered trinkets nor from wrestling tiny bits of concrete from their wires for weeks.
Next rods were welded on individually to form a lattice. Then three layers of mesh, or hardware cloth, were placed on both sides of the rod lattice, sandwiching it in between. Don stopped by several times with direction, and was available for consult by phone photograpy. Finally in mid January all prepwork was done on the holes. When Don arrived to spread the concrete, he said, “looks more ready than a lot of jobs I’ve been on.” After a long day of ‘plastering’ inside and out, the holes were finally removed. The result was smooth and strong, a thing of beauty.
Over the next week the cure was tended around the clock with wet blankets and sheets to keep the new concrete moist. In between, Jim finished the keel, which was pretty chawed up, but not as structurally critical, learning welding, and applying the mortar from observing Don’s technique. A structure kept it warm outside with heaters, and inside Jim kept the fire going. Anxious to see how the cure was going, he sent in a sample to be crushed at just one week, an impossibly short time, but Jim’s reasoning was that he could adjust variables if the cure was slow. Amazingly, at one week, the hull was nearly done curing.
Next the new transmission and a new/reconditioned engine were loaded, and the masts were replaced. The new cement was epoxied and the entire hull was scrubbed and repainted. On Feb. 9, four months after she went aground, the Phoenix was launched once again. She needed a few days at the dock to get the engine going and await the weather. On Feb. 14, the Phoenix made record time as Jim motored back to Orcas. “Having Jim and the Phoenix back home is the perfect Valentine’s present,” said Jim’s fiancée Libby Garcia, who provided nutritional, financial and logistical support throughout the repair. Jim is happy to return to his job at Camp Four Winds, where he works fixing boats.
