“Vintage,” Jennifer said immediately. It was the first time I’d heard it. We’d been kicking around names, but we hadn’t come up with anything we really liked. A vessel’s name is important. Vintage felt right.
“What do you think?” she asked, looking at me.
“I like it,” I said, repeating the name out loud. “Vintage. I like it a lot.”
“How did you come up with that, Jennifer?” Lloyd asked, nodding his approval.
“I was driving over here tonight thinking about when we first found her. How we’d been walking along and it was all foggy and cold, and I wanted to turn around and go home, but Corey said he just wanted to keep going a little farther. I trusted him, and he trusted his instincts.” She smiled. “I thought about the name Instinct, but it just didn’t quite fit. Then, as Sierra and I were walking up to her tonight, it hit me. She’s a classic. Vintage just felt right.”
“I love it,” Lloyd said immediately.
“Me, too,” I piped in.
“Then so be it,” Jennifer beamed. “But first let’s ask her.” In a quiet voice, Jen said, “Vintage, what do you think?” Another boat must have run past us a couple minutes earlier. A small wake gently rocked the vessel almost on cue, as if she were nodding in agreement. We all laughed out loud.
“Perfect timing,” Lloyd said, “but since you’re going to rename her, we’re going to do it right.” His voice became serious. First of all, we have to make sure everything on board that has her old name on it gets chucked. Everything—life rings, paperwork, pictures, the works. We can’t leave a thing on board with her old name on it.”
The boat had been abused, so there were no photographs of her on board. We’d been through her guts for over a month, and other than a few receipts stuffed in parts boxes, we hadn’t found anything with the old name on it. Jennifer offered to go through and double-check all the cabin drawers and lockers.
“Good. Double check the wheelhouse, as well,” Lloyd suggested. “Once we finish below and get her running, we’ll start on her cosmetics. When we get there, we’ll sand off what’s left of her name from her bow and across the stern. We’ll take it all the way down to bare glass and start fresh. When we get her painted, then and only then, Jennifer will bless her with her new name.”
The gentle kindness in his voice, his compassion and knowledge spoke volumes.
“We want you there when we do,” Jennifer said.
“Appreciate your offer. I really do. I’d be honored to be there. Most folks don’t think much of it—they throw a christening party and invite their friends and make a big production out of the whole thing. But listen to me,” he said in his serious tone. “She’s your boat. When you’re out there,” he said, pointing his chin toward the open sea, “she’s your life’s blood, your guardian angel. Your lives are going to be in her hands. So, by my way of thinking, the blessing should be a little more sacred than a party.” He paused again, looking Jennifer in the eye. “You and Corey make it a special moment. Don’t worry about formalities. For the most part, the ‘rules’ are a bunch of bullshit anyway. Just make it special. Trust your instincts. Do what feels right in your hearts, and she’ll know.” With a big grin, he gently patted the teak salon table. “When the time comes, you’ll know what to do.”
One tough month stretched into two, but late one Friday, we were finally ready to try the mains. Jennifer had gotten off early and was in the engine room with Lloyd and me. Vintage had her start/stop controls right where they belonged—in the engine room.
“Being in sight of the machinery when she turns over, you can see any problems immediately,” Lloyd had said while we installed the panels.
Our pulses were racing as Lloyd rechecked the oil and water levels, and then checked the trainee fluid for the umpteenth time. Finally, he depressed the green starter button located on the bulkhead just above the port main. The deep, unmistakable rumble of a giant awakening from a deep sleep echoed through the engine room. Within seconds, another defining sound filled the air as the big CAT roared to life. Jennifer and I squealed like little schoolgirls. Thank God Lloyd didn’t hear us! He was jammed between the forward bulkhead and the main, looking, listening, searching for anything wrong. But she just kept purring like the big old cat she was. I jumped out of the engine room and checked the exhaust. The water flow was good and true. The initial plume of black smoke was dissipating by the time I got on deck, and now just a trace of steam was escaping, just like it was supposed to.
One of the crew a couple boats over nodded his head approvingly.
After she’d come up to temperature, Lloyd throttled her up to about 1500 and held her there. Inside the engine room, the noise was deafening. He was holding her steady, well below red line, but it sounded as if she were going to explode. Lloyd looked up. Seeing the terrified looks on our faces, he shot us one of his patented ‘nothing to worry about’ looks. She held true. He throttled her all the way back. The roaring immediately stopped. Jennifer took her hands away from her ears as an incredible sound came out of the motor. As the deafening full power roar ended, a snarl filled the engine room, as the big main settled back down into a low purr at idle.
Lloyd was pleased about the motor’s performance. “Did you hear her snarl at us? That’s one of the most beautiful sounds in the world.” He loved his machinery. “The big ol’ CAT’s giving us a little growl at having been brought down from speed. This lady wants to get up and run. Listen to how content she is now. You take care of her the way I’ve been showing you, and she’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
Oh, the simple pleasures of life—the three of us standing in the engine room grinning from ear to ear at each other, all because an old motor was purring happily along beside us.
“Let’s see what her twin has to say,” Lloyd suggested, pointing to the starboard’s ignition button. “Go ahead.”
I knew I’d be doing this for the rest of my life. Though Lloyd was as tough as steel, I could see at the end of each day he moved a lot slower than he did in the morning. This was his day. He’d been the one who had come along and jumped in without asking for a thing. Without him, I don’t know what we would have done. This was his moment. He’d earned it. “No, sir,” I said, “She’s all yours.”
He nodded in appreciation.
“Go on.” I said, “You’ve got the magic touch.”
This meant more to him than I’d ever expected. All the while we’d been working together, I couldn’t help feeling guilty because he hadn’t asked for a thing. And since our talk, I sure as hell hadn’t broached the subject.
With his bear claw of a hand, he reached up again and depressed the starboard starter. Within seconds we had a repeat performance. Both mains were fully operational. We were ecstatic as we shut them down and climbed out of the engine room.
My emotions overwhelmed me. “I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t come along.”
He looked at us with confidence. “You would have managed just fine, son. You’ve got a knack for this. We’ve still got a lot of work to do, replacing the generator and going through the rest of her systems. But as long as those mains are happy, everything else will be a piece of cake. Besides, it’s been my pleasure helping to bring this fine lady back on line. She’s as sound as they come.” He patted the bait tank. “Going to make you two a fine charter boat.”
“Charter boat?” Jennifer said, looking at me with raised eyebrows. We’d been so immersed in working, running around getting parts and focusing only on the motors that we hadn’t even talked about what we were planning to do with the boat.
Lloyd saw us thinking about it. “What the hell else you