I was still sore and nursing a blister from paddling several hours down Little Contentnea Creek, but there was a boat show coming up, and I needed to make sure Sylvia was ready for it.

After all, she hadn't missed an N.C. Maritime Museum wooden boat show in 34 years, since it was started.

The old Core Sounder, her keel laid in 1933, needed some minor repairs. A place in the aft deck was getting soft and needed replacement. This was no problem, except it rained every time I decided to work on it.

Someone said time waits for no man. And I'd add, weather cooperates only if there is no rush.

When the morning of the boat show arrived, I was lacking a crew, so while sipping daily coffee with some friends, I asked if there were any volunteers. Two stalwart souls stepped forward. Both were eminently qualified.

Jim Sloan had just returned from an ocean cruise. And Mike Lewis had invited me to lunch at Swansboro, taking his boat, which screamed down the waterway at about 80 mph. I had wondered beforehand why he'd insisted on tossing my hat into the forward cabin before he opened the throttle.

Casting off Sylvia's lines, Mike eased the throttle up to cruising speed as we turned the old girl into the inland waterway.

At 10 knots, she purred like a contented kitten, slicing through the cool chop with scarcely a trace of wake. Cruising down the sound, Jim was delighted to discover the boat is so delicately and perfectly balanced that he could steer her simply by stepping from one side to the other while I leaned back watching Morehead's waterfront.

An hour later, after leaving the creek, we were at the N.C. Maritime Museum docks waiting to tie up. I'm sure Mike, with his boat, could cover the same distance in 10 minutes, but it may be that, with the price of fuel ever increasing, slower and more efficient boats might be coming back in fashion. I don't think Sylvia could burn much over 15 gallons a day if she tried.

The boat show was a success. I estimated nearly 75 boats attended, many outstanding examples of craftsmanship, from elegant to crude, from exotic to practical, mostly sail.

One that caught my eye was a steamboat, entirely handbuilt, using plans from 1903. She was like a silent ghost, slipping silently through the waters without wake, smoke nor sound.

Many a kindred soul was in attendance, many friends and older salts dropped by to admire Sylvia's lines and reminisce about nearly forgotten days of Iron Men and wooden boats, compared to a modern era of plastic men and boats.

The evening's speaker, James Moores of Moores Marine Yacht Center, expounded on his love and admiration of the old classic yachts, wooden boats and the craftsmen who have eagerly taken up the restoration of these national treasures.

Which brings up something about messing around in boats. It doesn't make any difference what kind or size, as long as it has some relation to the water.