
Evening time. The sun is far away at the horizon, hidden by the cloud’s curtain, like an actor waiting to step off the stage or the ovations of the spectators. It is raining. The autumn rain that soaks everything and everyone to the bones transforming the earth into the primordial clay from which life is made. Then it slowly starts to snow, the first snow of the year. The tin plates of the roof creak like under a cat’s steps sending vibrations which mix with the hot smoke rising off the chimney protruding out of them.
It is warm in our shop. The stove purrs, sending its beech wood aroma all over the room, we drink hot tea and everybody minds their work. We can hear the sound of a block planer, a handsaw chews the wood, and somewhere in the background we can hear a song coming out of an ancient laptop.
At our feet we have our 3 little dogs which we rescued from a sewage tube. This is the atmosphere at us. You will not find a noisy factory with people wearing chemical protection masks and machines that continuously clone one and the same boat model.
We’d like to see more of our boats on the water. We’d also like to smile seeing our students building them and stepping backwards from time to time to admire the lines of the boat. We’d like to see them sitting on the small sofa installed in the shop and thinking about it. And then, after finishing the day’s work, we can gather around the stove, have a cold one and start sharing stories.










