"He knows his boats." Phillip heard the buzz of a drill from where
Cameron worked belowdecks. He intended to bring Cam into this shortly.
"The sloop currently under construction is primarily Ethan's design,
though Cam added some points. We're dedicated to serving the client's
needs and wishes." He led Jonathan over to where Seth continued his hull
sanding. Ethan stood on deck, attaching the rubrails. "He wanted speed,
stability, and some luxuries."
Phillip knew the hull was a brilliant show of smooth lap
construction--he'd put in plenty of sweaty hours on it himself. "She's
built for show as well as function. Teak from stem to stern, at the
client's direction," he added, knocking his knuckles cheerfully against
the hull.
Phillip wiggled his brows at Ethan. Recognizing the signal, Ethan bit
back a sigh. He knew he was going to hate this part, but Phillip had
pointed out that it was good business to bring the potential client into
the fold.
"The joints are wedged and married, without glue." Ethan rolled his
shoulders, feeling as though he were giving an oral school report. He'd
always hated them. "We figured if the old-time boat builders could make
a joint last a century or so without glue, so could we. And I've seen
too many glued joints fail."
"Hmmm," Jonathan said again, and Ethan took a breath.
"The hull's caulked in the traditional way--stranded cotton. Planking's
tight, wood to wood on the inside. We rolled two strands of cotton in
most of the seams. Hardly needed the mallet. Then we payed them with
standard seam components."
Jonathan hummed again. He had only a vague idea what Ethan was talking
about. He sailed boats--boats that he'd bought fresh and clean and
finished. But he liked the sound of it.
"She appears to be a fine, tight boat. A pretty pleasure craft. I'll be
looking for speed and efficiency as well as aesthetics."
"We'll see that you get it." Phillip smiled broadly, waving a finger at
Ethan behind Jonathan's head. It was time to pull out the next round.
Ethan headed belowdecks, where Cam was fitting out the framing for an
under-the-bunk cabinet. "Your turn up there," he muttered.
"Phil got him on the string?"
"Couldn't tell by me. I gave my little speech, and the guy just nodded
and made noises. You ask me, he didn't know what the hell I was talking
about."
"Of course he doesn't. Jonathan hires people to worry about maintaining
his boats. He's never scraped a hull or replanked a deck in his life."
Cam rose from his crouch, worked the stiffness out of his knees. "He's
the kind of guy who drives a Maserati without knowing dick about
engines. But he'd have been impressed with your salty waterman's drawl
and rugged good looks."
As Ethan gave a snorting laugh, Cam elbowed past him. "I'll go give him
my push."
He climbed topside and managed to look credibly surprised to see
Jonathan onboard, studying the gunwales. "Hey, Kraft, how's it going?"
"Fast and far." With genuine pleasure, Jonathan shook