Over the course of a decade I have had the great pleasure of working as a licensed captain and marine craftsman in boatyards and oceans around the world. In my progression from apprentice to master tradesman, dedication to meticulous care and impeccable standards has always been central to my work. I know first hand how boats take on meanings far beyond the sum of their parts, and I see it as my duty to bring new life to every vessel that comes through my shop doors and repay the trust owners put in me by serving as a good steward to their boats, their schedules and their budgets.
Drawing upon my former work as a bar tender, I realized an unmet need amongst bars and restaurants for high quality finishes that can stand up to the demanding use and abuse of food service. For that reason I decided to expand Eden Tide to give restaurateurs the same access to durable finishes that keep boats, and boatowners investments, protected in even the harshest conditions.
I look forward to working with you!
-Capt. Micala Delepierre, owner/operator
Crying at Woodenboat Magazine
by Micala Delepierre
I used to cry every time I would read Woodenboat Magazine
Something deep inside would well up and seep out
in monthly installments
A reverent recognition
of the people who extricate their souls with sweat and
embed it amongst the wood and resin
Those whose stories are carefully folded up and sent out
to be found on shelves in grocery stores, mailboxes,
cluttered shipyard breakroom tables
In these places I gather them and bring them home to read
while laying by the woodstove
or on the ferry ride to work
I know that boats are material things
Resin and wood,
curmudgeonous motors,
towering poles adorned with sheets of canvas
They are playthings
offices
mooring ornaments
And they too will rot like the rest of us
But like children, most boats outlive their parents
The builders whose souls get ground into their creation
whose names and stories will be lost
when there are no more issues of woodenboat magazine left
to clutter library shelves
or my kitchen table
But they live on
in the stroke of a brush
the cut of a saw
and the young inheritors like me
who find their own souls drawn out and completed
with the turn of a drill