WHAT
EVER HAPPENED TO THE ANNABELLE?
“As seen
at Seafair, old ferry enjoying a new lease on life”
Reprinted
from the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, August 9, 2000; used with permission
by Liza Tewell, boating and sailing
columnist
Perhaps you caught a
glimpse of her on the log boom during the running of the hydros last
weekend. At 72 by 40 feet, she’s hard
to miss.
“She” is the MV
Annabelle, a ferry built in 1938 in The Dalles, Ore., to carry cars and
passengers across the Columbia River.
She’s now home to a Tacoma family, chronicling yet another chapter in
her saga as a piece of Northwest maritime history.
Back in 1955, after 17
years serving the public, Annabelle planned on early retirement, but as she
sailed out of the mouth of the river for the last time she discovered that her
twin skedges, with their limited 4-foot draw, were no match for the open ocean.
So she crawled to
Seattle, where she spent the next four years in aquatic rehab, recovering from
the pounding the Pacific Ocean had dealt her.
Once again seaworthy,
she was sold to the community of Herron Island, just south of Tacoma, where for
30 more years she once again shuttled cars and people on her back until she was
replaced in 1989 by progress and a newer, bigger ferry.
Tired and outdated,
she was sold off for a song. Her new
owner had plans for her to serve as either a waterside construction barge or
personal-use ferry for his RVs and campers.
He died two weeks later.
For four years,
Annabelle wallowing in escrow and the mud flats of Shelton before being
discovered by Dennis and Katherine Redmon and their baby daughter, Sierra, who
enjoyed gunkholing the nooks and crannies of the waters of the south Sound
aboard their 1959 Chris Craft.
Within six months, the
Redmons had packed up their small high-rise apartment with the view of Lake
Union, their antique furniture and wedding crystal, and found themselves
water-rich and dollar-poor.
While diving on
Annabelle’s hull in that spring of
1993, the Redmons spotted her broken rudder, damaged when she was beached on
Shelton’s shores. The repair cost more
than expected, and what was to be a $5,000 job at the Foss yards in Tacoma cost
closer to $15,000.
There were other
surprises as well, both the kind new-home owners confront and the kind boat-owners
deal with every day. It’s not too often
that a homeowner wakes to find diesel fuel accidentally overflowing into his
walk-in closet. How many live-aboards
can even claim to have a walk-in closet?
There were other
challenges in store. Annabelle is the
size of a small lot in Ballad. Moorage
is hard to find for such a lengthy, beamy vessel, so instead of sailboats and
motor cruisers, Annabelle’s neighborhood consists of commercial maritime
vessels, including trawlers down from Alaska in the off season, and foreign
trading vessels traveling from port to port.
Considering her
blue-collar roots, Annabelle feels right at home. She is several steps above the average pleasure cruiser. Supplied by four, 450-gallon diesel tanks,
the MV Annabelle’s 1960 Cummins diesel engines purr, and can push her at a
steady 10 knots - in either direction.
An inverter kicks the power from shore to ship when Annabelle leaves the
dock.
The year-old,
copper-tubed water-boiler, which replaced the sooty, albeit charming, wood-burning
stove, radiates heat and keeps the outdoor hot tub at an even 110 degrees.
Her deck-top structure
is an artfully arranged puzzle of donated finds. The porthole of the Redmon’s front door, salvaged from some other
vessel and painted cherry red, frames a stained glass window made by a friend.
Currently berthed
underneath Tacoma’s 100-year-old 11th Street Bridge, Annabelle
boasts an unrivaled view of Dale Chihuly’s courthouse art.
The family that tends
to Annabelle’s historic hull is equally as colorful. A mechanical magician, Dennis Redmon often strips down to his
shorts when working on the engines, looking like a better-fed Ben
Kingsley. A taxman from 9 to 5 and
entrepreneur 24/7, his burnished scalp reveals his seafaring home life.
His wife Katherine, a
trained medical professional and adept with tools as well, tends a bountiful
garden atop the roof surrounding the pilothouse.
Born with sea legs,
the Redmon’s eight-year-old daughter, Sierra, has never lived on dry land. She’s a modern incarnation of Huck Finn,
though with her penchant for dresses and black Mary Janes, she’s of a decidedly
less tomboyish bent.
Gracing Annabelle’s
living-room wall are precise plans, drawn by Katherine’s brother David Rash an
architectural historian. The drawings
hint that one day, Annabelle’s Swiss Family Robinson exterior and eclectic
interior may change, but to the Redmons, she’ll always be “home.”
Special
thanks to the Seattle PI for allowing us to reprint this article.