Ramona

Project Coordinator

High tide on the first warm weekend of spring is my time to visit Ramona. The cove through which I navigate to my boat's summer mooring is accessed by a shallow gravel ramp which is an uneasy mix of rocky shoreline and engineered practicality. Launching too long after the falling tide guarantees shallow water, mud, and an eventful start to the sailing season. On those afternoons when the tide provides sufficient water to launch easily, I find myself with time to make the pilgrimage to Ramona's shallow bottomed resting place.

Ramona's 100 ft backbone still clutches her oak frames tightly. At high water one can still see the tops of the schooner's ribs holding fast against the wear brought on by a century of wind, storm, and changing tides. The wooden skeleton provides firm purchase for surviving thick cedar planks who long ago lost the companionship of so many similar strakes, decking timbers, and masts. Close inspection shows the nail-like wooden trunnels used by some forgotten boat builder to fasten loose pieces of wood into a sturdy, working, coastal schooner. Each piece of Ramona's massive structure reflects her life hauling heavy freight through the punishing waters along the New England coast.

These splintered, weathered timbers inspire musings about the circumstances of Ramona's coming to rest here far from the open waters of the Atlantic. Perhaps she ran aground while delivering coal to the small village at the head of the cove. Perhaps she caught fire. One local folk song tells of her being lovingly scuttled and sunk by her captain who had not the heart to see her fall vicitim to changing commercial needs and cut up for scrap by her owners.

Ramona's seagoing service has ended, but the longevity built into her structure endures. Almost a century ago a boat builder crafted future history into her every joint and fitting. Short lived materials and quick building methods are not part of a boat's nature. Time spent to assure long-lived construction is more than balanced against decades of faithful use. Boats are not built for today but for service many years into the future. Such craftsmanship has come to be expected in wooden boat building.

While Ramona has long since hauled her last load of freight, she still serves a useful purpose in the lessons she offers. Just as Ramona's captain must have felt deeply conflicted at seeing the necessary end of so much history, and promise, so too does one feel conflicted by the loving scuttling of Projects Whaleboat/Wherry. If our craftsmanship has been sound and done with an eye toward the future, then the lessons learned will serve as strong trunnels fastening a frame upon which good learning can still occur. Short range goals and narrow learning methods are not part of deeply ingrained learning. Time spent assuring long lasting learning is more than balanced against continued personal growth. Ramona and Projects Whaleboat/Wherry tell us that one does not teach for today but for the hope that learners will find ways of holding fast against the winds, storms and changing tides of their future. Such craftsmanship has come to be expected in good teaching. Learners would do well to pay a visit to Ramona.