AMC Outdoors, March 2003

For the last few years, the best-known boats in Kennebunkport, Maine, have been the speedboats in which the Presidents Bush zip around near the elder's coastal retreat. But the town was once a shipbuilding center, with hundreds of vessels taking shape during the 19th century in shipyards along the Kennebunk River. And though that industry declined in the early 20th century, today a small operation on a quiet road in town keeps history alive.

While the Bushes rev their motors, students at the Landing School of Boatbuilding and Design — named for "the Landing," the stretch of riverbank where it's located — hunch over planks of cedar, plywood, and mahogany, turning out wooden peapods and sailboats. Founded in 1978 in a dairy barn, the school offers courses in boatbuilding, yacht design, and marine systems technology, attracting students from around the world. A recent expansion added two large shops next to the original barn, though enrollment is capped at about 30 students a year.

In a high-ceilinged, concrete-floored space in one of those structures, Paul Barton leads classes every day from 7 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. The soft-spoken builder, an alumnus of the school, explains that he was working as an accountant in a hotel in Rochester, N.Y., in 1981 and thought it was "kind of boring. I had sailed since I was a kid, and it came to me one day that I ought to build boats instead, and I ought to find out how." After researching his options, he set sail for the Landing School.

Upon completing the building and design courses, Barton ventured to Rhode Island to work restoring and repairing ships. Two years later, in 1986, Landing School founder John Burgess — who is still president of the institution — called Barton and persuaded him to return, this time as a teacher.

Barton had never taught before. "I didn't feel like I had enough experience, but John convinced me to come. I was right, I didn't have enough experience, but I've gotten it." Practiced now, he watches over a dozen students a year who come to learn the trade or to indulge a long-held fantasy. (As Barton, one of a three-man boatbuilding staff, notes, "Anyone working on boats has some romantic notion about it, but we try to weed out the ones who've had it come to them in the night.")

Starting in September, the students learn about safety, tools, and materials; then they draw out full-size plans, construct an internal mold to shape the craft, saw and file planks, glue them together around the mold, sand, fill gaps, paint, and varnish. "We use tools that have been used for a couple hundred years, like planes and chisels," Barton explains, "but we also use power tools and modern materials where we feel they'll help get the job done quickly and professionally."

Mix in lectures and field trips, and this undertaking, which a professional might complete over the course of a few weeks, extends over the whole semester. It can be easy to fall behind, and Barton posts a chart on the wall comparing actual progress to his ideal schedule. "I found out early on that we have to have a schedule from Minute One to know whether we're getting behind," he says.

Adding to the pressure is the fact that the school sells everything its students build, from peapods to large sailboats. Knowing there's an expectant buyer waiting for each finished product makes the shop part classroom, part factory. "My number one job is my students' education, but my secondary job is getting these boats done," Barton says. "That can be hard to balance."

The seasoned instructor, now 54, says he has "gotten a lot less wrapped up in minor details" over the years. "I don't look for perfection," says Barton. "I look for good enough, and preferably better than good enough." While it can be hard to watch someone making a mistake, whether breaking off a screw while tightening it or cutting a board too short, he does his best not to micromanage unless it's catastrophic. After all, he recognizes that those who enter the business, which a majority of graduates do, won't have someone looking over their shoulder.

The intensive time students spend here prepares them well, from developing professional skills to building confidence. "One of the best things they get," says their teacher, "is the feeling they can do anything."

 To Build a Boat, intro  |  Paul Barton  |  Lynne Paju  |  Adam Bolonsky