Saw this on Reddit. To good not to pass on. I take no credit, but hope somebody gets a laugh out of it.
Delightful Wooden Classic For Sale
Bludgeon is a Shep Warren design based on loftings discovered while renovating a 1700’s carriage house in Surrey. Her elegant lines are reminiscent of a Channel Islands Lifeboat. She’s well founded with excellent sea keeping abilities, even in a light chop.
Bludgeon was built way the hell down east by The Way Down East Wooden Boat Building School of Lubec under the stern tutelage of Abe King Rasumussen (Bowdoin, ’48) and his devotees, all of whom wore unkempt beards and wire-rimmed glasses in homage to their mentor. 3/4” mahogany planks are fastened with silicon-bronze to many, many thick oak ribs which are ideally spaced for one to bark one’s shins upon. Her rare teak and holly sole was personally hand-laid by none other than Rasumussen himself, Master of the scarf and dove-tail joint.
The lovely, slender uncushioned fore-and-aft seats encourage standing. The center-mounted engine box, while too low and vibratey to steady cocktails, is a perfectly conceived tripping hazard. Underneath lies a cleverly restored 1960’s Westerbeke headache guaranteed to run for one Sunday afternoon next August. Bludgeon cruises at a stately 3 knots and will approach 4 1/2 when properly coaxed. Take the gracefully curved, hand-carved locust tiller in hand and command your dreams!
Her bow and stern canvas duck spray hoods are expertly stretched over steam-bent yew bows that keep dry those portions of the boat which they cover, mercilessly exposing her pilot to the angry Atlantic's rapacious whims. Traversing the narrow slickly varnished decks to reach the bow cleat shall distinguish the steely-eyed mariner from the casual yachtsman.
She was featured in Tree2Boat magazine as “a spectacular example of excessively crafted water-borne frivolity”. The Editor went on to state that “Indeed, it is the penultimate floating strumpet to gauche economic largesse.”
She was originally commissioned by J. Hadley Soammes of Seal Harbor in hopes of bonding with his cut-off-jeans-wearing-red-headed-bastard grandchildren by indoctrinating them into The Nautical Life, but Bludgeon failed to amuse. Caustic boredom infected the entire crew 5 minutes into her maiden voyage and most gathered later at the Yacht Club, separately shedding tears of silent rage. Freshly estranged from Grandfather and having learned a hard lesson, the little punks invaded their trust fund and scored a wicked friggin bad-ass Whaler with twin Mercs.
Bludgeon was twitched ashore that afternoon. Never again would she feel the sea's sultry caress, sadly concluding another tragic tale of lavish hopes and rich expectations so violently dashed upon Maine's granite ledges by poor judgement and too much money.
I was half-way through and losing to a fifth of Dewar's on a cold, grey afternoon in February when my broker called, convincing me that a chance was in the offing. I succumbed. She’s been on the hard ever since. The yard bill devours enough of my ex-wife’s inheritance to ship our teenaged witch off to boarding school forever. I’ll sacrifice her for $39,000. The boat's free. I’ll throw in my new Tilley Hat to sweeten the deal. I just want this godamn nightmare to end.