Musings on Boats, Membership and Volunteerism

By Brad Pearson, Adirondack Chapter

The meandering views and opinions expressed here are entirely my own and not the club’s position. And I reserve the right to revise them whenever it suits me—which is to say, probably right after someone proves me wrong at the dock.

Bring on Another Thousand 

There’s an old line: a boat is just a hole in the water you pour money into. Which, in fairness, is also true of hobbies like skiing, scuba diving, hunting, golf, fishing, and—depending on your teenager—college. The difference is boats do it with style. And lots of chrome.

Not everyone has—or needs—the kind of marquee boat you see lined up in Clayton, NY, gleaming like they’ve never met a speck of dust or a bad decision. And that’s fine. Honestly, one of my favorite parts of this whole thing is looking at all boats. Perfect boats. Imperfect boats. Boats that are “almost done” (for the last 12 years). Boats that came with “just a few small projects,” which is code for “clear your calendar.” Every single one has a story. Sometimes the story is inspiring. Sometimes it’s a cautionary tale.

I always enjoy reading the legacy stories of how someone came to be the 3rd or 4th family generational owner of a boat, but I didn’t inherit a boat that was my grandfather’s. I didn’t start big. Like several people, I came in through the gateway drug of the water world: an inexpensive used pair of jet skis. Quick, fun, relatively simple—and just enough to convince you that you are, in fact, a captain.

And once that happens… well, you know the saying. You captain one boat, and suddenly you’re mentally captaining all of them. Even the ones tied up three docks over that you have no business touching.

The Volunteer Puzzle

Somewhere along the way, boats and volunteering got intertwined for me. 

The Antique & Classic Boat Society (ACBS). Chris Craft Antique Boat Club. US Air Force (no longer an active member…). Kiwanis (two different chapters, because apparently one isn’t enough). Cadillac & LaSalle Club. Central Adirondack Association. Even a Loudoun County Election Officer —because nothing says “variety” like going from polished mahogany to handing out ballots. I am also a member of The Retired Officer Association and The American Legion. Two very worthy organizations that assist veterans in numerous ways and provide children of veterans with scholarship opportunities. I have never volunteered my time with the latter 2 organizations, preferring to let the paid staff of these organizations lobby for me and choose how to distribute my donations.

I originally joined ACBS for the same reasons most people do: interest, curiosity, and probably a mild case of “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”
For years, I didn’t bring my boat to shows. Part hesitation, part intimidation. You look around at these immaculate boats and think, “Mine has… personality.” Also, we bought our first classic boat, a 1957 fiberglass outboard, from an ACBS chapter president who said just enough, but not too much to make signing up interesting.

Eventually, I got over my hesitation to take our boat to a local rendezvous and to get more involved in ACBS. Not because my boat suddenly became perfect—but because I realized nobody else’s is either. Some people just polish their imperfections better. Some organizations are struggling.

Local service clubs—Kiwanis included—are feeling it. Meetings get smaller. The average age creeps up. And suddenly “we need younger members” starts sounding less like a goal and more like a survival strategy. Every organization I’ve been part of says the same thing: “We need more members, and we need younger members.” And it’s always said with urgency. Sometimes it makes me envy the Quaker attitude toward recruiting new members. They don’t try and they are not evangelical, yet they have existed for almost 400 years.

Meanwhile, people today are busy. Volunteering now competes with work, family, side hustles, actual hustles, and the very appealing option of doing absolutely nothing for once. Fortunately, the ADK chapter has a robust volunteer roster. And lately we’ve been able to attract younger members with new perspectives! Without our engaged chapter membership, we simply couldn’t accomplish all of the wonderful and educational events that take place each year. Personally, when I volunteer my time, I look to have fun, add value to the event, maybe learn something, and hopefully provide value to the community being served by the organization.

Knowing What You Don’t Know (and Not Pretending Otherwise)

Now, let’s talk about boat work. I’ll be honest: I don’t know much about fixing them. I know what I like to look at. I know what I like to drive. But if something serious breaks, my first instinct is not “grab a wrench”. It’s “who do I call before I make this worse?”

Fortunately, by attending local boating events, I’ve gotten to know some excellent boat shops and the people behind them. At this point, I’m fairly certain a few have more than recouped their sponsorship fees thanks to my repeat business alone. These are folks in my area who know their craft—and who’ve treated me right along the way.

Black River Boatworks, Forestport, NY
Dunn’s Boat Service, Eagle Bay, NY
Tumblehome Boatshop, Warrensburg, NY
Reets Boatworks, Mayfield, NY
Rivett’s Marine, Old Forge, NY

These are the folks who can take something that looks like firewood or an engine sounding like a bag of angry cats and turn it into something that makes you emotional. For me, the equation is simple: if I can make more money working than I would save trying to fix something myself—while also avoiding turning a small problem into a very expensive learning experience—I’m going to work and pay the professional. I know my limits.

That said, I do want to learn—at least a little. I keep telling myself I’ll go to workshops, pick up some basics, maybe reach the level where I can confidently nod and say, “Ah yes, that’s… wood.”

Where It All Connects

Boats and volunteer organizations don’t seem like the same conversation—but they are. Both require people to show up.
Both take time, money, and patience.
Both slowly drift if nobody’s paying attention. Both depend on something simple: participation. You don’t need the biggest boat.
You don’t need to be the most skilled.
You don’t need to run the meeting, lead the committee, or restore a hull from scratch. 

But you do have to engage.

Whether it’s a boat or an organization, the real danger isn’t the cost – it’s what happens when everyone stands around, admires it… and assumes someone else is going to keep it afloat.

Originally printed in the ACBS Adirondack Chapter newsletter, Fourth Watch.