Rise of the Falcon
The little Falcon appeared in my life totally unexpectedly at a time when I wasn’t looking for another boat. My friend Ante mentioned seeing a dinghy with ‘beautiful lines’ abandoned in a corner of an industrial yard not far from his workplace. It didn’t take much to arouse my interest: he knew that I suffered from a particular disorder – trying to save each abandoned boat I came across!
One sunny September morning I drove to the address provided. The owner of the company directed me to the back of their overgrown backyard and then returned to his office. I waded through the waist-high jungle of burdock, until I almost bumped into the overturned hull. She was lying upside down on four old car tyres.
The gelcoat on the bottom was all cracked up, big patches were missing, exposing bare glass laminate but despite all that the hull appeared solid.
I couldn’t see the deck or hull interior, as she was too close to the ground for me to lean under.
The hull did have beautiful lines indeed, although at the time I couldn’t figure out what kind of sailing boat I was looking at. I guessed she was about 15ft-16ft long.
A few minutes later, after a handshake and a $100 bill, she was mine. I was assured that I’d also get a perfect mast, rudder, swing keel and many other fittings, none of which I could see, as they were all somewhere in the storage area. I was told to come next weekend to collect everything.
When I arrived with my friend Ante the following weekend I was happy to see her sitting right-side up on two wooden pallets.
What made me less happy was seeing the ‘many other fittings’, which turned out to be a sorry-looking swing keel handle and a piece of firewood which
