After scouting around for days we were finally directed to the right combination of tree and circumstance. Permission was granted, the tree was cut, and the trunk, bark and all, was hauled to the shipyard and dumped. I had announced that our own gang would do all the work, but when we looked the log over it seemed a truly formidable undertaking. I could feel my feet getting cold.
“Are you quite certain you know how to go about making the mast?” the yard foreman asked.
“Quite certain,” I said firmly.
“Is there anything you need?”
“Nothing but adzes, axes, spokeshaves, planes, sandpaper—and a few weeks.”
He lent us the tools and told us to take as long as we needed. The boys looked at me.
“What do we do first?” asked Ted.
“First,” I said, “we take off the bark.”
About a month later we had our mast, gleaming smoothly in the summer sun. Frankly, I was proud of our job. Kauri is beautiful wood, both to look at and to work, and it has the added advantage of needing no seasoning period. With the help of the workers at the boatyard, we rolled the mast into the water, borrowed a motorboat, and towed it across the harbor to where the Auckland Harbor bridge was under construction.
I approached the operator of an enormous steam crane.