A former wooden workboat, the Oyster Catcher was restored into a stately charter vessel through the vision of one determined man. But Myron Hokin did not live to see the completion of the project he started.
Today the Oyster Catcher claims the waters of the eastern seaboard, its unique lines and breathtaking interior capturing attention and wonder, because Hokin's family finished the work he could not.
ROBERT GARVEYA view of the Oyster Catcher on the beam.
The 57-foot boat showcases a redesigned two-level cabin, three staterooms, twin John Deere 130 HP diesel engines, and a 350-square-foot steadying sail. She can accommodate 10 guests overnight and 49 charter passengers.
But like all restorations, this one had its share of glitches. Finding the right boat took more than two years. Title problems surfaced three months into the project, delaying work for another year. And designing the interior layout turned out to be more than the family could handle without help.
But more than 15 years after the project started, and after Hokin died, the vessel was christened on Oct. 5, 2000.
THE SEARCH
Hokin, founder and owner of the well-known Bitter End Yacht Club, an 85-room resort located on Virgin Gorda in the British Virgin Islands, decided in 1992 that he wanted to purchase an old wooden workboat that could eventually be turned into an updated cruiser. He didn't expect to have trouble locating such a vessel.
He recruited Robert Garvey, his grandson-in-law and a marine engineer, and they embarked on their search. Two years and 14 boats later, they were still empty-handed and were just about ready to give up the ship. Garvey recounts the hunt in a blog on the Oyster Catcher website. At one point, Hokin had his heart set on a different boat but months of negotiations could not resolve a $10,000 gap. They looked at others, but found rotting bottoms.
"I had traveled from Maine to Miami," Myron once lamented, according to Garvey's blog. "We were about to call it quits in 1994."
ROBERT GARVEYDining Salon
ROBERT GARVEYMain Deck Stateroom
Then came Christmas. Garvey's wife gave him a book titled "Maryland's Vanishing Lives." The book, published that year, contained essays by author John Sherwood about old ways and the folks still practicing them, from blacksmiths to oyster packers, from operators of a tool bridge to a one-room school house. In an essay on boat builders, Sherwood referred to a wooden workboat built by Francis Goddard. The end of the excerpt disclosed that two of Goddard's workboats just happened to be for sale.
The very next day, Garvey found a contact number for the boat builder and called. Learning that both were vessels were still available, he hustled on down to Goddard's boatyard to share his idea.
The Poppa Francis and the Connie Francis were for sale, but title issues prompted Goddard to suggest the Connie Francis, apparently not realizing that they would have the same problem with her, as well, according to Garvey's account.
WORK STARTS, THEN STOPS
When Goddard had initially constructed the Connie Francis with the help of his son Wayne, he had bought an expanse of Maryland timber, personally cut down all of the trees, shipped the chopped lumber by boat back to his home in Piney Point, and literally put the whole thing together in his own backyard.
"We built her in my backyard. Upside down. Then I hitched her up to a tree and turned her over," Goddard says, according to Garvey's blog.
Writes Garvey: "They hand cut the 80-foot tall long leaf pine mast. The 45-foot, 16-inch thick Douglas Fir keel was trucked in from Oregon."
However, not three months into Hokin's overhaul of this old fashioned boat, a pretty big glitch surfaced. The vessel had a title problem that shut the project down. It would be a year before they would be able to get back to the task.
To keep the energy flowing and use the down time productively, the men spent much of the 12 months fine-tuning the plan for the interior layout and design. Particulars such as cabins, bunks and dining area were discussed in detail.
