He took his time with the adze, setting it against the wood with relaxed precision and drawing it across the grain as though floating a scarf through the air.
The bright curls of oak drifted down onto the toes of his boots.
He set the adze aside and ran his hand along the smooth board, smiling beneath his mustache. “Like that,” he said.
“You make it look easy.”
“It is easy,” he said. “It’s we who are hard. I’d take that coffee now.”
Sitting outside with our steaming mugs, he lit his pipe and looked over the harbor. “My great-great-great-grandfather arrived here on a Nantucket whaler. We’ve been here ever since.”
I wrote 5th generation in my notebook.
“A rootless people are disconnected,” he said. ” Is it any wonder they no longer care about the earth? They are so busy that they never get a chance to know it.”
I came across this great website and was inspired by the way these boatbuilders approach their craft.