Berkeley Marine Center

From my neighborhood, I think I'm the only kid who never took sailing lessons. I even registered twice but family camping trips and torture, like summer piano lessons, always seemed to conflict. It's actually rather improbable that I never learned how to sail, my family on my mother's side seemingly has some sort of genetic attraction to the windy seas and I myself love almost all boat travel despite the fact that I occasionally can't remember whether starboard is the right or left side of the boat (it's the right) and pretty much my grasp of nautical vocabulary is limited to the more colorful colloquialisms attributed to sailors... But still, I'm sure that some of this family history contributes to my enthusiasm for my recent outing. Or maybe I just love field trips.

Last Friday, the Aesthetic Immersion class headed out for it's inaugural field trip to the Berkeley Marine Center. We met first with Jim Antrim, a naval architect who works designing and building boats and parts for existing boats, making them fast, light weight and when working with some of his more "creative" some clients, functional despite looking like giant metal bugs... or the such. His slideshow accompanied by soothing background music was interesting, but then we actually got to explore the boat yard and see the current sailboat in progress. My first impression, the amount of sanding required to make these boats is incredible, and the patience and the willingness to be covered in dust for potentially months is currently beyond my understanding.

Further in to the yard though, what struck me was the stark contrast between the product and the environment. They turn out these beautiful boats, sleek and shiny, they look fast and practically flawless. But the boat next door may very well be looking more like a giant decaying barrel surrounded in nautical refuse. Broken buoys and motorcycles and masts laying everywhere, a giant boat-making version of my own desk mid-project. And it was cool, so many industrial designers create nice shiny objects without thinking of the end life it was fun too see both the process of creation and it's return to decay in the same spot. Broken they may be but with history and experience exposed by the wear and tear. They wait hoping for that eventual restoration that will give another chance for adventure, and as a sign that evidently, it's all fixable. I like broken boats.

 

 

 

Which seems to fit in rather well with my family boating legacy, because in truth, that family history of boating involves partial sinking/crashing/being unable sail back from Cuba after being caught by the Coast Guard more than a couple boats. Its great to see these boats they craft with all the marvels of new materials and engineering, but as interesting to me to see where they might be in 50 years. When the weather and water or another ill-fated Olivier sailor has taken it's toll, it may be a bit worn, but it could sure show some interesting stories.