Goodbye to Lulu

[John R Smith]

Goodbye to Lulu

There may be some longstanding inmates here on the WB Forum who remember the good ship “Lulu”, and her heroic voyages from Sunny Corner on the river Fal in Cornwall. Who remember how her crew, John the Skipper and Kate the First Mate, battled heroically against mud and tide to take her (and “Doris” the dinghy) on famous exploits up narrow and winding creeks, with only the herons and curlews for company. How we struggled on the beach to stem the ravages of time and rot, to keep the old girl seaworthy. And how you good folks on the forum were with us every step of the way, helping out with sound advice and, when all else failed, a shoulder to cry on. Well, just in case there are still some of the old gang here, I thought it only fair to post and let you know that we have sold “Lulu” and we shall sail her no more.

In 2005 (our sixth season) “Lulu” was in pretty good shape. We had fixed most of the major problems, including taking the topsides back to bare wood, she had a new companionway hatch and all the brightwork was varnished and gleaming. But, although we didn’t want to admit it, the seasonal grind of scrubbing, scraping and painting was beginning to wear us down. It still seemed as if we spent more time (far more time) working on the boat than we did taking it out on the water. In 2006 I made what subsequently proved to be a big mistake. This year, we thought, we will just do the minimum, enjoy using the boat for once, and catch up with the maintenance next season. And we did get out, and have good times, and take our friends out too on several sun-soaked and curlew-haunted voyages down the bosky Fal.

The next year, 2007, we paid the price. Kate had injured her shoulder badly on our canal holiday the previous autumn and could do nothing to help with the boat. My ever-nagging back decided to escalate into serious trouble mode, and I could barely bend down, let alone scrub off the bottom and anti-foul. Everything needed doing on “Lulu” after a year of neglect, and I could do very little on my own. She sat on the mooring all summer, and on my weekly visits to pump out, start the engine and charge the battery I could only watch her varnish flake, decks go green and ropes harden through lack of use.

This winter we took stock. Neither Kate nor I were getting any fitter (or younger). “Lulu”, though we loved her dearly, was just too old and too big a boat for us to cope with anymore. And so we decided to sell her. Just writing these bare words feels strangely like an act of betrayal, because (of course, as you all know) a wooden boat is not just a boat. She gets under your skin, whispers to you of your dreams, becomes a reflection of your hopes and fears, and in the end is a mirror of your own mortality.

So it was that this Saturday just gone, we went down to “Lulu” for the last time. I handed the Bill of Sale to the new owner, he gave me the cash. We spent the morning clearing the ship of all our gear – the lifejackets, my binoculars, pots and pans, spare clothing, paints and tools, the charts. After eight years, it was almost as bad as moving house, and by the end our little car was stuffed to the roof rails. We went to the nearby supermarket café for lunch, and ate in miserable silence, neither of us with any appetite for food. After lunch we boarded “Lulu” again and waited for the incoming tide, just like old times. Once again the ripples lapped around the old girl’s stern, once again the mast swayed and her keel lifted softly off the mud. Battery on, sea-cock open - come on, please start! (she did, first time), and Kate and I slipped easily into the old routine. We came off the mooring, eased her a couple of hundred yards up-river, and with “Lulu” having a little last-minute struggle against the wind and tide, brought her safely home onto her new berth. Finished with engines! – and the crew left the ship.

We still have our WB hats.

Best wishes to you all from John and Kate.

[Bill Perkins]

Thank you both for enriching the forum by sharing your boating adventure .

[Concordia...41]

Nooooooo

I hope the new owner understands his responsibility to keep us updated....

[Joe ( Cold Spring on Hudson )]

Best of luck to both of you. I loved reading about Lulu and her heroic voyages. Finest kind on the WBF

[clancy]

Though sad that Lulu is yours no more it is wonderful to hear from you again. The story you penned about Lulu going to sea has to be one of the best short stories ever written about a boat.

[htom]

Thank you, John. I've missed your voice, whether about Lulu or other things. Please pull up a stool and chat for a while. My best to you and Kate.

[erster]

Thanks for checking in and adding the last chapter to the Lulu Sagas.

[Tom Hunter]

I enjoyed the Lulu sagas immensly, and am sorry to hear you had to sell her.

But you did the right thing. Nothing kills a wooden boat faster than an owner who cannot care for her but refuses to sell her to someone who will.

[paladin]

John...I loved the Lulu Sagas......don't go away just because you have passed Lulu to another caretaker...

[Thad]

John and Kate, Thank you very much for remembering us. Cheers!! and best regards. If you come this way we can go sailing.

[Hughman]

There's a lot of old inmates here, and you two have been missed.

Farewell, Lulu. Drop us a note once and a while.

John, and Kate: pull up a stool and tell us where ye been! Scotch, wasn't it?

[Russ Manheimer]

Thanks for letting us know John. I've often wondered what became of all of you.

Just because Lulu's gone remember doesn't mean you can't pop in now and then; you're always welcome here.

Be well,

Russ

[abe]

Good to hear from you again. Missed your ongoing Lulu, Kate and John Sagas. This one is most sad.


Many of the long term inmates are still here, some have left and a few should be scotted into solitary confinement more often.

Please stay fit and drop in here on occasion to say hello!

abe in New Hampshire USA

BTW, Epoxy is still crap.

[willmarsh3]

The Lulu sagas were enjoyable. I need to go read some more of them. Even though life turns to a new chapter I wish you the best.

[mmd]

Hello, John & Kate. I, too, am one of the old hands here who remembers the Lulu sagas when they were fresh and eagerly anticipated news. I'm sorry to hear that you have had to part with your old friends. I do hope, however, that you will stay on with us for conversations and tall tales, and that maybe in the future a new smaller and less demanding vessel will find her way into your good hands. 'Twould be a shame to have tales of adventuring on the Fal fade into the mists of time...

[Tom Robb]

John and Kate, we've all missed you and your extraordianarily wonderful Lulu tales. I also hope you find another boat that's easier on old bodies like ours. It is good to know that you're still muddling along. We feared that you'd disappeared off the face of the Earth.
Lulu, Doris and their people Kate and John were and are well loved.
As said above, don't be a stranger.

[Concordia...41]

Well, here is my favorite:

Lulu's Christmas Eve
by John, with pencil sketches by Kate



It was Christmas Eve, and the light was already fading at four o'clock in the afternoon. Down beside the Truro River at Sunny Corner, the echoing call of the curlew haunted the tree-clad slopes, with winter branches now stark black against a purple sky. High water was just past, and the brimming tide lapped against the old granite walls of the quay, as a gentle north-west breeze fanned tiny wavelets in the channel. Far away, at the head of the river, traffic rushed out of the city at the end of the last working day before the Christmas break.

Lulu curtsied gently with the tide and wind, tugging gently at her mooring ropes. Her old planks and timbers moved slightly, their copper nails slack with age. She could feel a patch of rot in a deck beam, a slight ache around a shifting keel bolt. She knew she was no longer the yacht she had once been, when she was launched all those years ago into the rill behind the Benfleet yard. Many tides had passed under her keel since then.

The winter was a lonely time for Lulu. Her Skipper and First Mate paid her a visit each weekend, and pumped her bilges dry. Her engine was checked and run for a while, and if the weather was fine another strake might be painted or a piece of rigging spliced. But her moorings were never loosed. There were no more trips down the river, no stops in the sun-drenched creeks for tea, and no glorious runs under full sail through the Roads - where in the haze of a summer afternoon, Lulu and her crew could shrug off the passage of the years and be young again. The little sloop waited and hoped the long week through, but no one came.

The harbourmaster's launch, rushing up-river past the beach, started Lulu from her reverie. A sudden wake rolled past her transom. The chafed front mooring ropes parted and her bows swung slowly round, as grey mullet feeding in the shallows scattered in alarm. The strengthening breeze began to push Lulu out into the river, and the rear warps fell away from the bitts. Tide and wind took her, and Lulu was free. "I am adrift", thought Lulu. "Adrift, adrift, adrift" chuckled the wavelets at her stem. "Adrift, adrift, adrift", sighed the wind in her crosstrees. Dusk cloaked the waters in shadows, and Sunny Corner fell astern.

There was no hand on her tiller, yet it seemed to Lulu that she could lay a steady course. And so she passed safely through the channel buoys, around Victoria Point, and down Mopus Reach as the moon rose above the trees on Parson's Creek. Lulu's portholes glinted in the moonlight, a gust of wind shook her headsail free, and she was sailing with the tide past Woodbury and on to Maggoty Bank.



Lulu's crew, in deference to her years, had always kept her within the confines of the sheltered estuary, not wishing to strain her hull and rig in the open sea. Secretly, the old yacht still yearned for the ocean and the grey-blue swell. Now, her mind was made up. This time, just once, she would go to sea.

There were ghosts on the river that night. As the rushing tide ebbed more quickly, Lulu slipped past Tolverne, where American troops had embarked for D-Day in massed landing craft. Where the French destroyer "La Suipe" was sunk and her dark wreck still lies at Lime Kiln Quay. And where the old barge men had made their way upstream with coal and lime for Tresillian Bridge, with the "Sweet May", "Daisy" and "Two Sisters", all now long-forgotten hulks sunk deep in the mud of the silent creeks. Topsail schooners too, like the "Mary Barrow", had once plied the deep channel here in King Harry Reach, laden with fruit from the Azores or salt cod from Newfoundland. As Lulu passed unseen under the lamp-lit cottage windows at the Passage, it seemed to her that she was in a noble company of wraith-ships with moonlit topsails, flying jibs, and fore to' gallant yards.



Soon the tide swept her through Turnaware and out of the narrows. All alone in the Carrick Roads, a mile across and four miles north to south, Lulu felt very small. The north-west breeze strengthened as the night wore on, and though the tide grew slack she ran with the wind across that silver inland sea. The blaze of Falmouth's streets drew closer on the starboard bow, and ahead loomed the dark granite tower of Black Rock, with the flash of St Anthony's light away to port.

Seals lying on the Black Rock awoke from their slumber, eased themselves into their natural element, and swam to meet Lulu. They circled around her, then bobbed up by her bow like so many watery dogs with large sad eyes. "You are far from home", they said. "And with no crew aboard. Are you adrift?" "Adrift, indeed", thought Lulu. "I am sailing!î "Turn around", said the seals. "You are not made for the oceans. Turn around before you reach the sea".



Beyond Black Rock the dark Atlantic brooded, here and there a flash of white as the swell broke. There were no lights, no other boats, no curlews or herons for company. It seemed a vast and lonely place. "Perhaps", thought Lulu, "perhaps the river is a better place for those of modest draught". The seals playfully nudged her bows around, the wind backed to the west as the tide turned, and Lulu set a course for home.

A grey dawn lightened the sky in the east behind Sunny Corner Quay. The Monterey Pines stood tall against the new day, gulls and waders began to stir on the far bank by Calenick Creek, and the full tide slackened. There was no-one there to watch a little white sloop drift up channel on the last of the flood, catch an eddy off berth number fifty-two to swing her bows inshore, and nose into the beach with her forefoot. A wavelet lifted the rear mooring rope up and around her propeller, and Lulu was safe for Christmas Day.




Later that morning the Skipper and the First Mate walked down the steps and onto the beach. They fussed around Lulu, replacing the moorings and bending new ropes to her bitts. "A good job we came down today", said the Skipper. "Why, she could have gone adrift". The old yacht lay in her berth in the low December sun, still with a slight ache around that keel bolt, dreaming of a fine passage home under full sail. And the days were lengthening now with the promise of Spring.

John
with pencil sketches by Kate

[John B]

Thanks for the update John.

[reddog]

John and Kate,you have blessed us all here with your enchanting tales of your adventures with Lulu.They reminded me of a time when the simpler pleasures of life provided comfort and nourishment.Life and time marches on and change is inevetable.I wish you all the best and thank you so much.

Earl

[Alan Peck]

John: I have been hanging around this Forum for quite some time and I remember the Lulu Sagas well. They are like old friends. I don't have your writing skills so I can't even begin to express how much pleasure they have brought me.

Best wishes, I am truly pleased to hear from you again. As others have said, it would be a fine thing to hear more stories from you.

p.s., does anyone have the complete set of Lulu stories that they could post? I'm sure there are a lot of us that would like to print them out and enjoy reading them again.

[Wooden Boat Fittings]

.
So sorry to hear this news, John. As you can see by the replies, you, Kate, Lulu and Doris have all been very sadly missed over recent years.

But like others here, I hope you don't think that while with Lulu's sale you've reached the end of that era, that fact means you've also reached the end of your WBF connection. We want you to stay, and to go on chewing the fat, for a very long time yet.

And my personal and very best wishes to you both for speedy repairs to shoulder and back damage, and a return to good health.

Mike

[ahp]

John,

I am sorry to hear that you are parting with Lulu. Please don't end up on the beach. Get something that will get you afloat, but takes less care. My Dad once said that the best part of the water was that nearest the land.

I don't see myself visiting Cornwall again, but if I do I would like to meet you at the Sheaf of Barley for a pint and some serious bird watching.

[G. Schollmeier]

Best of luck, you have and will be missed.
Gary

[Mrleft8]

"The Lulu Saga" was one of the first threads that I read here....
Hopefully she'll enjoy a second book... Thank you for all you did, wrote, and shared.

[Steve Lansdowne]

You are both WB Forum legends. Thanks for sharing.

[Rick Starr]

Thank you, John.

How wondrous were your small adventures; how rare a gift to see familiar ground with eyes afresh; how miraculous that you stumbled into our international midst with a flare for storytelling. With your eyes, and Kate's, Lulu has taught me things which I treasure.

For all of that, and for closure, I thank you.

Rick Starr

[Bruce Taylor]

Goodbye to Lulu

There may be some longstanding inmates here on the WB Forum who remember. . .

There are, as you see. It's been nearly three years since your last post, John. You've been missed.

When I saw the thread title, I feared Lulu had gone the way of Ian's Grana. I'm relieved to see she's simply adopted a new crew.

All the best to you and Kate. (Are you still playing that cute little vintage Martin?)

[adampet]

Thanks John,
I've enjoyed your tales immensely. It made me get out my maps and pore over them to follow along. My trips to England have never reached as far as the river Fal, though your tales let me know the flavor of that estuary. I'm glad you stuck your head back in here for an update, even a sad one. Don't be a stranger.

Thanks again
Adam

[Keith Wilson]

Oh, my . . . I remember the Tales of Lulu well. They were one of the best things ever on the WBF, our very own Maurice Griffiths stories. Thank you for sharing them with us, as well as the marvelous drawings, and thanks for letting us know she's moving on, as sad as it is.

[doorstop]

John, many thanks for many enjoyable, memorable and satisfying stories of your adventures with Lulu. They have made you lots of friends and you have been very much missed. Travel well and travel safe. Thank you!

[StevenBauer]

Thanks, John and Kate. We remember. Lulu was lucky to have you, I hope her new owners do as well by her. Feel free to hang around any time you can. And tell Kate we say hello.

Steven

[Rich VanValkenburg]

Well this is a sad moment for me, too. Like all the others here that have missed you and Kate the last year or so, I've missed your posts and wish you well.

Rich

[Andrew Craig-Bennett]

Part of me says "Oh, dear" and the other part says "Well, John and Kate are fine, and Lulu has a new owner".

Thank you very much for letting us know.

A canal story would be nice...

I do think that the Lulu sagas ought to be published.

Scot - project for you!

[John R Smith]

My good friends on the Wooden Boat Forum –

Well, I’m not sure what to say. I am overwhelmed and feeling very humble indeed that so many of you not only remembered the Lulu Sagas after so many years, but even quoted some of them back at me. I had expected that maybe two or three of you might be interested to know what happened to “Lulu” in the end, but . . . .

There you go. The trouble with conditions like arthritis is that they can creep up on you insidiously and very slowly, until one day you realise that you are not quite the man (or woman) that you once were. When I think back to the work I was able to do on the boat when we first had “Lulu”, and (to be realistic) how little I can achieve now, it comes as something of a shock. And of course, the less you are able to do something, the more you tend to miss it.

If pressed I should have to admit that selling “Lulu” was for me a pretty low moment, stiff upper lip notwithstanding. So we shall have to cut our sails to suit our cloth, as it were, and take on new challenges which are a bit more manageable. We still have Berth number 52 at Sunny Corner, paid up for the year ahead. And Kate has her little boat, the 12 foot dinghy (carvel built), which she has been working on for years now it seems. She has fixed up and painted all of the interior, we steamed in three or four new planks, and really now it just needs a final effort to caulk the seams, paint topsides and anti-fouling, and “Ruan” (for that is her name) will be ready for sea. So we do still have a wooden boat (are we mad, or what?).

Beyond that, it is hard to see. I have put the money from “Lulu” aside, towards another boat – something smaller, maybe 16 foot, sturdy, with an inboard engine for sure – but (and dare I mention it here) I have a feeling that it will not be made of wood this time. And it will have only one very small piece of brightwork somewhere – perhaps a varnished mahogany mount for the compass

If I may return for a moment to times past, I think that it is entirely fitting that the “Lulu” stories have now come to an end, fun though it was to write them. I do actually write for a living some of the time, but my workaday prose is a very different sort of text – technical reports about historical sites in Cornwall, and descriptions of early industrial processes like iron-founding or corn-milling. I do not usually do creative or imaginative writing at all. The “Lulu” sagas began simply because I found the WB Forum an inspirational place to be, the folks here seemed really nice, and as part of that I felt I wished to share our good times on the river with you all. But it seemed a little threadbare just to post – “Hey, we went down to Lime Kiln Quay and back on Saturday, drank a few beers and had a great time”. So I began to embellish things just a little (not that it was invented, oh no, not at all – everything really happened – well, except for “Lulu’s Christmas Eve” – and even then, I’m not quite sure). At the time, as you might guess, I was busy re-reading Maurice Griffiths and Arthur Ransome, and inevitably this author absorbed them through his pores. I owe both these great writers an inestimable debt.

But of course as time goes on, there was less to write about. The elements that make for a good story are so often the times when something goes wrong, not when all goes right. As the seasons passed we learned how to handle our boat, how not to run aground, how to moor up against wind and tide, how not to foul the prop, and by the end we were (almost) getting quite good. And there is a natural limit to the number of evocative descriptions of herons, oak trees and dusky creeks that one’s readership will stand, no matter how deathless the prose. So the “Lulu” stories, like all things, ran their natural course. That so many people enjoyed them (and remember them still) makes me very happy.

This time Kate and I will try to keep in touch, and we will let you know how we get on with “Ruan”.

All our very best regards from Cornwall and the River Fal

John

[Thad]

Excellent! Thanks much.

[htom]

My dad will be glad to hear that you're OK, btw. He'd been reading over my shoulder long ago and thought it beyond strange that I was conversing with people in England and Australia. He has asked after you and Lulu several times.

[Russ Manheimer]

John,

Thanks for that. I have a feeling that most of us would be content to hear over and over again about the herons and dusky creeks in your backyard.

I loook forward to a John and Kate tale about Ruan and new adventures.

Thanks again,

Russ

[J. Dillon]

A sad day indeed selling 'Lulu", not just for you but all here on the Forum. But the most sadest was your leaving for a while.

I hope you and Kate physical ailments improve but at least made easier to cope with. Maybe your new vessel " Ruan" will have adventures you can write about. None here would give a hoot what she is made of.

Hoping as others to hear more of you. Forumites generally keep the nasty stuff in the bilge.

Thanks John for checking in and up dating us.

JD

[shamus]

My thanks too John, and condolences on the injuries and the need to make the decision. As you can see both you and Kate and the sagas have never been out of mind here for very long. Great to hear from you again.

[Jim Goodine]

Thank you, John, for the update and we're all hoping that those creaky old joints improve. I always looked forward to the word "Lulu" in the subject line and enjoyed every word you wrote.

Now, my fine fellow, since you took an entire year off from boaty projects, you must have had a million great adventures to write about. I know that you are a truthful man but with your great writing style, I'm sure we'd be perfectly willing to overlook some "unverifiable facts".

Write for us John, and we'll continue to look for Lulu in the subject line.

[py]

I add my thanks John, and Kate, and Lulu. I "bumped" a thread with the lulu sagas just a few weeks ago, reading them through on a quiet day at work brought back very fond memories. I always looked forward to every instalment back when you were writing them. John, you under-estimate your talent. You really should keep writing, even as you get better at messing about in boats. You have a rare gift.
Phil

[S.V. Airlie]

Nooooooo

I hope the new owner understands his responsibility to keep us updated....

I hope so too.. I'm so sorry that this has ended this way.. Understandable as all or some of us are getting older.
A wooden boat needs new blood once in a while. I hope, as the 'red head' has written that the new owners understand the responsibility they have taken on..

When I bought my first wooden boat..'Uncas', my father in his infinite wisdom at 87 wrote me an e-mail.
"Dear Jamie, you are nuts!"
Love dad..

Good luck to both of you and the new owners.

[Harry Miller]

Let me add my thanks to everyone else's for your stories of Lulu's adventures. Along with many others here I re-read them regularly just as I do "The Magic of the Swatchways". I wish both of you well and hope you will become sufficiently inspired in the future to write to us again.

[Peter Kalshoven]

John and Kate,
You have definately not been forgotten. The Lulu Sagas have been treasured here on the forum, and in many of our hearts, for years. Thanks so much for the update, please come back to see us, and do invite Lulu's new pet to log in and say hello. She is one of the true members of this forum, and we all thank you for giving her a voice.

Ladies! Gentlemen! Raise your glasses!

"Lulu Lives!"

[cs]

John I'm glad to hear that you and Kate are still kicking around and I think of you and your adventures quit a bit. Sad to see that Lulu has to move on but hopefully her new owner will show her the love and attention that you and Kate did.

One favor. Could you please post that photo of you in your slicker?

Chad

[PhyllisMessinger]

The Lulu Sagas were gems that Norm read aloud to me whenever a new one arrived and we always looked forward to a new adventure. All stories must end so I'll reluctantly accept the last of these and wish you the best for the future.

Phyllis

[S.V. Airlie]

The Lulu Sagas were gems that Norm read aloud to me whenever a new one arrived and we always looked forward to a new adventure. All stories must end so I'll reluctantly accept the last of these and wish you the best for the future.

Phyllis

Phyllis.. glad you checked in!!! Hope you are doing well.

[Rich VanValkenburg]

Chad, was this what you were looking for? I saved this as it was a favorite.

[John R Smith]

I'm a bit greyer round the gills these days, but I've still got the Norwegian fisherman's jersey. That picture was taken on the Isles of Scilly, a year or so before we bought "Lulu".

John

[skuthorp]

Struth!, G'day Kate and John. I'm another of the old hands that hung on the next installment of the 'sagas'. It's great to hear from you both but I am sad to hear Lulu has gone on to another fortunate owner. I too am still on a mud berth, it does you good to be aware of the wind and tide and the local peculiarities of both.
I look forward to future contributions from you both, you are too valuable a source of boating knowledge not to do so.
Here it's past 5pm, 'whisky o'clock', I'll raise a dram to your health!