People say it all the time.
They say it when they've just whittled their way through paying a stack of bills. They say it after a long work week.
They're going to scrap it all, they say. They'll buy some big
old boat, fix it up nice and live aboard it, escape from the world and
all its daily demands. In the afternoons, they'll sit in the sunshine
on the deck, watching the smaller boats buzz by. In the evenings,
they'll light a lantern and listen to the fish splash in the dark water
off the bow.
Art Wolfe said it. Then, he did it.
He and his companion, Marilee Ives, took an old boat, the Iva
W., and overhauled it to live on it, full-time. The couple has recently
begun to offer charters aboard the boat, too, from their seasonal home
base in Everglades City. Laid-back, easy-going charters, Wolfe said,
where guests can "go out and be quiet in the Everglades."
This is not the work that the Iva W. was intended to do. When
the couple found the boat and decided to buy it, she was not a pleasure
craft. The Iva W. had probably never known a single day of what most
people regard as relaxation in her long life.
She was, and still is, a 60-foot "tank," Wolfe said. "One tough beast."
She's a Chesapeake Bay buyboat, a flat-bottomed, spruce heart
pine freighter that carried crabs and oysters from the lower Chesapeake
to market in Maryland. When she was working, the Iva W. could haul 60
tons — much more than she weighs — to market, her decks awash as she
plowed heavily through the water.
"This boat then ran six days a week, 24 hours a day," Wolfe said.
Johnny Ward was always her captain on these trips. The boat had
been built for him in 1929 in Deltaville, Va., when he was just 26
years old. He named his new buyboat after his young wife, Iva, and paid
$2,800 for it, minus an engine. In October 1998, Wolfe paid the Ward
family $25,000 for the boat — including an engine, the boat's
8,000-pound, 1930's-era Caterpillar D13000 diesel.
He also got a project that would absorb the next six years of his and Ives' life.
"Everybody has a dream, everybody has a path," Ives said of Wolfe and the Iva W. "And he was just so driven."
When he bought the Iva W., Wolfe was far past merely muttering
about tossing in the towel on the workaday world. In 1996, he quit his
25-year teaching career as a business law professor; the job had simply
stopped making sense, he explained. He thought about joining the Peace
Corps, but ended up sailing from West Michigan to Guatemala with Ives
aboard his 26-foot sailboat "Georgia." It was a great trip, but it was
exhausting, Wolfe said. Georgia was too small, too light, to face some
of the conditions they met. They were going to have to trade up.
Money was a concern. Whatever he spent to buy and refurbish
the boat would be funneled from his retirement nest egg. He and Ives
began combing the market for wooden boats — he wanted wooden for sure —
and paid special attention to work boats.
"If your task is to get the most boat for your money," he said, "you've got to look at the commercial market."
Wolfe found the Iva W. in Deltaville, Va., the town where she
had been made decades before. Johnny Ward had captained and worked the
boat into his 80s, but now the Iva W. was docked behind his house.
Sometimes, the aging captain would still go out to her and take a nap
onboard.
Wolfe fell in love with the Iva W., and he fell in love with
the Ward family. But he didn't want to be rash, either. He knew she was
an old boat. He had grim visions of the Iva W. falling to pieces just
as he and Ives got underway.
Wolfe took some time to entertain his second thoughts in a
Deltaville bar, over a beer. There, he started talking to a stranger
that had lived aboard a wooden ketch for 26 years. The coincidence
struck Wolfe, he said, because "there aren't that many people that live
on great big old wooden boats."
The stranger told Wolfe that he wouldn't have it any other
way, and Wolfe took those words as a sign. He would buy the Iva W and
convert it to a pleasure boat. He figured it would take six months.
"I said, you're absolutely crazy," Ives recalled. "This is a 10-year project."
Ives describes herself as a simple, practical person. How could
she sign on to something as complicated and impractical as the Iva W.
project? She had plenty of questions, she said, but remembers Wolfe's
boundless passion for the Iva W. He put his future, time and money into
it, and she was drawn in, too.
First, there was Noah and his ark. The Iva W. project is Art and his, she said.
"So many times in life you say you wish you do something," she said, "and you don't really do what you want to do."
By the time the renovation to the Iva W. was complete, Wolfe and
Ives — who did all the work themselves, with a handful of help — had
removed Capt. Johnny Ward's old wheelhouse and built a completely new,
spacious saloon with galley where it once was. The wheelhouse was
eventually returned to the boat, on top of the saloon; it is now their
private quarters. There are three guest staterooms on the boat and five
heads, or bathrooms.
It wasn't always easy or fun. Wolfe learned to ignore this
inevitable question from strangers, friends and family members: "When
are you going to be done with this thing?" He trained himself to
answer: "Hopefully, never!" Ives, for her part, said she refused to be
rushed.
"I really don't like to be stressed out," she said. "So I just said, I'll be done when I get it done."
It's done, officially. The Iva W. is a fully-functioning charter
boat, for up to six guests. But everywhere, there are hints of her
history.
On the boat's interior wooden walls are drawings of the
old-styled Iva W., all done by the same Chesapeake Bay artist who had a
particular affection for her. When she was buyboating, the Iva W. was
loved and legendary, Wolfe said — she has an entire chapter devoted to
her in a historical book about Chesapeake Bay buyboating.
Docked in Everglades City with fishing and crabbing boats as
her nearest neighbors, the Iva W. is "real comfortable," Wolfe said.
But she is still hungry for tough work, Ives said of the boat,
something they learned when they rode out Hurricane Frances for 30
hours aboard the Iva W. on Florida's east coast last summer. The
fiercer the storm grew, the harder the Iva W. battled it, Ives said.
The Iva W., like her owner, is still determined to go and do. That hasn't changed.
"It's like having another family member," Ives said of the boat. "They do have a life, and it becomes your life."