The scents of hot, outgassing varnish and leather-wrapped and kapok-stuffed seat cushions filled my nostrils, while the burbling wet exhaust of the Chrysler told my ears there was more to what lay within the engine box. With the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention, I pushed the Morse throttle forward and the Chris quickly leapt on plane. The roar of the Chrysler was pure music as the mahogany hull squelched the waves and wakes, transporting me back in time to memories of my grandfather taking me for rides in his Chris-Craft back in the ‘60s. Arriving at the dock, my friend immediately noticed the massive grin on my face. “Sorry you didn’t enjoy that,” he chuckled as I tossed him the bow line. “I knew you’d be hooked as soon as you drove her.” Three weeks later (hook, line and sinker), I pulled our Jeep Grand Wagoneer into the driveway, a derelict ‘64 Chris-Craft Super Sport attached to the hitch. A year-and-a-half later, “Wood’n - U - Know” hit the water for the first time in many years, fully restored and gleaming like the day she rolled out of the Chris-Craft factory in Cadillac, Michigan. Finished days before the Antique and Classic Boat Society’s show, she was one of the stars at the dock, floating home with Best Utility honors. We parted ways a few years later, but every woody I shoot brings back a flood of memories. One of my favorites is a Bassett Brown Gentleman’s Racer I photographed for the 2017 Monterey auction. While the North Lake Tahoe landscape made for a wonderful backdrop, it paled in comparison to the varnished mahogany and classic lines taken from 1920s Hacker Nick Nack. Under the hatch sat a Rolls-Royce V-12 Meteor engine (the tank version of the World War II Merlin found in the P-51 Mustang fighter), delivering some 600 HP to the bronze prop. Firing up the Meteor elicited an immediate case of full-body goosebumps, the scent of burned Avgas, varnished wood and warm kapok brought a tear to the eye and warmth to the heart. With every shot, I couldn’t help thinking how great it would be to own another woody. Shutting down the Rolls, the owner commented that he was really going to miss the boat, but not the hours of upkeep one requires. “I know exactly what you mean,” I replied. “With all the bottom painting, varnishing and refitting, it’s cheaper to throw a wad of Franklins onto a 55-gallon drum, pour some gas in and throw in a match.” “EXACTLY,” he said, eyes wide. At nearly the same time, we both noted, “But, we love them!” MECUM.COM // 59
