So what do you do after the kids are grown and gone from home? Sam and Judy Haigh had an unusual idea. They weren't just going to become liveaboards. Anyone can do that. No, the couple decided to buy a retired military vessel–a 1953 Army T-boat–and restore it as their own home-sweet-home.

At least that was the plan.

When the couple first decided they wanted to move out of their land-based digs in Norwalk, Conn., they began their search for a boat with a conservative vision. They figured they'd wind up living on a William Hand motorsailer, a wooden trawler, or perhaps a Hatteras in the 56-foot range.Sam HaighUnder way with a boatload of eager guests.

It was Sam's cousin Jack, a yacht broker, who spotted a T-boat in a South Bay, NY boatyard. There were 110 steel T-boats built in the US between 1951 and 1953. At the time, the vessels were to be used for personnel transports, light tow duty, and limited firefighting. But the Korean War ended while many of the boat were still under construction, causing most to be mothballed once they were completed. While some saw military service, others were sent to universities and other institutions.

Intrigued, by the vessel, Sam's cousin suggested they come take a look. The boat had spunk and seemed to fit all the Haighs' needs: large living spaces, particularly when it came to sleeping quarters, a boat that was comfortable enough for year-round living with air conditioning and heat and a vessel that required a minimal amount of maintenance. Mostly it had character. While an offer was made, the deal quickly fell through. What did not die, however, was the Haighs' desire to own a T-Boat.

It was while Sam was returning home from work on the evening train, flipping through an old copy of Boats and Harbors magazine, that he spotted a classified ad: " 65' 1953 Army T-Boat for sale. For more information please call..."

Soon the Haighs were on their way to an Army depot in Charleston, SC. It was there that they met The General.

THE GENERAL

At 65-feet in length and weighing in at a hefty 100 tons of solid steel, the vessel was an impressive piece of real estate. Built by the Missouri Valley Steel Company nearly 60 years ago, she was originally designed for the U.S. Army to serve as a cargo carrier and light towing boat.

Once retired, she was sailed to Charleston, where she remained untouched for 38 years. For two decades she was kept in a self-contained enclosure that protected her from humidity and salt. Later she was dry-docked.

In 1991, the government put the T-boat up for sale and she was purchased by a man, who, in his 70s, had underestimated the time and money it would take to restore her. She was returned to the auction block where the Haighs acquired her in1992 for $25,000.

The boat was theirs but it needed a mammoth amount of work. Thus began the long process of renovations, which would eventually run the Haighs $250,000.

Massive changes were needed before the couple could live onboard. While the vessel –was structurally sound, it had sat for nearly forty years. Unarguably, she was going to need a major facelift, beginning with the bare-bone tasks of sandblasting the bottom and hull, applying the proper coats of primer and paint, gutting the interior and starting from scratch with new floors, new walls and new ceilings, creating two new staterooms, designing a full working galley, adding an aft deck, replacing the old windows, re-designing the entire wiring system, creating a more workable engine room and adding heating, air conditioning and fresh water storage units to turn the working boat into an attractive and comfortable home.

It was during these repairs that the Haighs would lean heavily on Charles Balsamo, one of the last master wooden boat specialists on Long Island.

SO BOLD, SO NAIVESam HaighLaunching Day in South Carolina, mid-construction.

Looking back, the Haighs laugh at their innocence. They allowed themselves a short six months to make repairs. They were so confident in the timetable that they put their home up for sale. While most people would revel in a quick sale, the Haighs, both of whom are now 63, began to worry.

It was becoming more and more clear that work on The General would be anything but quick. Six months of restoration would stretch into four years before the job was complete. While the couple lived mostly in a one-bedroom apartment in Greenwich, in time they became quite familiar with sleeping on a hard deck floor, choosing to spend some nights on the boat to get an early-morning start on repairs: degreasing, sanding, painting, varnishing, calking, insulating and random welding projects.

"Judy and I have had a different experience than most yacht owners," said Sam Haigh. "We didn't just go out, buy a boat, hire out the work, and then come back to get her when it was all finished. Judy and I were hands-on with the project from day one. I would work on The General after work and on the weekends. Judy was there around the clock. Because of that, we have a more intimate understanding about the inner workings of our boat and a much greater appreciation of the final product."

A LONG ROAD

Sam has been around boats pretty much all of his life. He started out as a kid owning a 13-foot, 1951 Lyman, a boat his dad bought him. He later graduated to a 19-foot Mako, a 32-foot wooden lapstrake Olson, and a 34-foot Webbers Cove.

The General was an entirely different animal.

Had he known how long the repairs would take, Sam admits he probably wouldn't have gone through with it.

But it didn't take long before Sam and his wife found themselves knee-deep in the project. To help them along, they brought on veteran naval architect Dave Gerr, who would transform the vessel from functional to fanciful.

Under Gerr's supervision, the empty cargo hold evolved into a master stateroom, with the addition of walls, a ceiling, floors, cabinets and a full bath and head. Original crew quarters were stripped of their bunks and cabinets, as well as a stove and refrigerator, and turned into an attractive guest stateroom, also equipped with a private shower and head.

It was Gerr's suggestion that the wheelhouse should be relocated just above its current location with a subtle addition of a double bunk hidden within. The empty space where the wheelhouse had once stood was then converted into a full, working galley.

Among the other additions were a wood burning stove, a warm wood interior, wainscoting paneling, white ceiling boards, varnished wooden cabinetry, an oroko teak cabin sole, and finished aft deck.

And then there were the unexpected extras. During the renovation, a Paul Luke crafted stove was found, as well as the original wood-spoke captain's wheel, a WW II vintage binnacle made by the Lionel Company, and a water cannon for putting out fires at the rate of 500 gallons per minute (with a shooting distance of 200 feet).

Also unearthed was a claxon horn that was intended for use in the military to send signals inside a ship for important announcements like "battle stations," as well as assorted whistles and head gear. A fellow T-boat owner let Sam borrow a copy of the vessel line drawings and original manuals, which revealed information that was both historic and humorous. For example, the documents instructed Sam on how to render the engines useless should the enemy get too close (in case you're wondering, you pour in a mixture of sugar and sand).

Then there were some gifts. A Lyle gun – or breeches buoy cannon – was supplied by Sam's uncle, who coined the boat's distinct name. The cannon was used as far back as the 1700s to assist ships in distress by firing out a line to help tow to safety or transport crew members.

THE ENGINE ROOM

The General's engine room is today powered by its original, 10,000 pound, 300 HP, single slow-turning Caterpillar D375 diesel engine (it only has 400 hours on it), plus an auxiliary engine that is currently used for the hydraulic system.

The main engine measures an impressive seven feet wide by five feet tall, and provides the power to the 43" four-blade prop beneath The General's imposing hull.

Add to the specs massive bilge and intake pumps, a 56 gallon oil tank with 16 filters, twin 500 gallon fuel tanks, the original oil-fired cabin heating system, a cargo-hauling mast and boom with electric winch, full firefighting gear, and fifteen tons of ballast, and you have yourself one intriguing vessel.

The General cruises comfortably at about 9 knots and makes her annual rounds to Rhode Island and Long Island during the New England summer season, with occasional day trips to other local ports of call.

CAPTAIN AND FIRST MATE

It's fair to say the unusual boat has quirky owners. Sam has an affection for his "pride and joy," the Lyle cannon, as well as a fondness for "Taps," which he is known to play at sunset while shooting the cannon from The General's upper deck. The performance never fails to attract a crowd.

In fact, over the years the vessel has attracted a host of visitors, some of note. International businessman Maurice Tempelsman, who also docks his boat at the Norwalk Cove Marina during the summer, has been known to fire the cannon every now and then.

Sam loves to tell visitors about the day Paul Newman asked if he could watch a car race on The General's satellite TV. Apparently Newman's boat didn't have cable. And the time Billy Joel offered the buy The General. Sam wasn't about to sell. Still, he was flattered.

Then there are the parties the Haighs have hosted on board. One of them brought 87 visitors onto the vessel, including 14 bagpipers and four drummers. Sam had to borrow 30 life jackets for that gig.

While the Haighs don't own real estate in the traditional sense, they say it's the "neighborhood" that makes their floating home on The General so welcoming.

"When you live on a boat, you become close with your neighbors unlike you could ever do on land," Sam Haigh said. "It's a community."

Karen Jewell is a freelance writer based in Fairfield, Conn. She writes a weekly column, "Water Views," for The Norwalk Hour, and is a frequent contributor to marine and recreation publications. She has just finished her first novel.