| TRAVELS OF DURSMIRG VOLUME IV THE ROGUES OF ST. AUGUSTINE AND OTHER SOCIAL MISFITS Chapter 54 |
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YACHTERS, THE GOOD, BAD AND THE UGLY: SCOTT AND PAT
Scott and Pat Pothier and their big fifty-five foot WWII well weathered and worn wooden mine sweeper boat with its
gigantic Buda diesel engine.
This eager young couple with stars in their eyes and dreams in their hearts somehow managed to escape the work-
a-day-world and the political wartime politics to venture down from New York in their newly acquired antiquated
vessel that was a nearly forgotten relic of war but it was their yacht, home and escape vehicle.
With the absolutely starkest of floating flotsam Scott and Pats floating home was with the barest of amenities and the
bleakest in unpainted appearance of any of the vessels that came to drop anchor at St. Augustine this winter
season.
These two enthusiastic social misfits and escapists made the cut the minute they cast off the dock lines and headed
south not looking back.
They melded right into the Old City’s colorful collection of dropout live-aboard sailors in Matanzas Bay this winter
season of 1972-73.
With their stark craft lacking any paint, polished fittings or portholes and no cabin or wheel house these two
dreamers set out down the Hudson River in New York State with an old weather worn canvas tarp provisionally
covering the place where a previous wheel house might have been.
What was so admirable about these two dedicated adventurers was that when the impulsive dream struck them they
didn’t wait around for the perfect yacht or the tall stack of loot so they could marina hop in high-style.
Scott and Pat took what was at hand and split because instinctively they some how knew fullfilled dreams only
happen to those that take that affirmative move here and now.
Procrastinators scuttle their own dreamboats.
The sparse stripped to the ribs innards of this lover’s dream-boat had even less to offer in the way of appointments
and amenities.
Two long weather worn planks propped at precarious angles in the bilge served as their only furniture.
Their bed, their chairs and their table were all fashioned by these two unattached planks. A tiny one burner Swedish
Primus kerosene stove made due for all their onboard galley cooking.
Ropes were provisionally strung at mid-ships that made up a hanging closet and doubled as their room divider.
With the main centerpiece of their happy but humble little abode conspicuously prominent and inescapable from
view within the innards of their confined living room sat the ancient giant Buda diesel engine’s massive iron
presence that was a constant reminder that you were really in the engine room.
Believe it or not these two eager societal escapees were partaking of the most wonderful, glorious and hilarious time
of their lives and definitely having a bigger lark in life than anyone we have ever met on luxurious varnished big-
buck yachts…its all about attitude!
This definitely made drop-out Scott and Pat into the kind of social misfits that St. Augustine attracted like the Pied-
Piper.
These two free-spirits may have dropped out and flown away from the mainstream but they were definitely dropping
into a real life of dreams fulfilled. Scott and Pat didn’t need to impress anybody and honestly never gave that notion
a second thought…they had the best of the best that life had to offer.
Scott and Pat knew where home was and they signed our guest book aboard Dursmirg with their only address as
Matanzas Bay.
Ignorance is bliss and dumb-luck and beginners-luck all had to be with these two incredibly blessed neophyte want-
to-be mariners on their maiden voyage down from up-state New York using only a roadmap to navigate the
waterways by.
Scott was like the one man band when it came to operating his improvised makeshift provisional make-it-do Rube-
Goldberg vessel’s machinery.
The grand size of his six cylinder Buda diesel engine that filled most of the cabin space below decks was a downright
intimidating oversized piece of machinery.
Scott being small and slight of stature but agile even made the contrast in size to the big Buda power plant more
pronounced.
The actual show of lighting off the engine and getting underway really was a sight to behold; watching Scott scamper
around his boat like a scared hamster in the process of starting his intimidating sized immense Buda was a three
ring circus preformed by a one-man-band.
Jury-rigged with provisional ropes and wires attached to various levers, cranks, handles and a variety of curious
ancient cast iron contraptions Scott flew around his vessel and up and down his crudely hammered together
companionway ladder working a multitude of his improvised innovations in a practiced sequential routine that
amazingly got his big Buda to spring into life.
The next sequential event would come together with yet another amazing well practiced ritualistic routine as Scott
got ready to pull his anchor.
His shift lever and accelerator control had their idiosyncrasies that Scott could handle with kicks, hammer blows and
much hyperactive animated high-speed maneuverings. This was a no-frills operation that had no anchor windless or
power assisted steering so the engine would play a big part in breaking the anchor loose…but little Scott still had to
man-handle his cumbersome ground tackle on board.
I am still in amazement at just how these two people stepped aboard, cast off the dock lines and headed down the
Hudson River to the sea with no nautical charts but only a road map and positively no prior knowledge of anything
even remotely nautical.
They had one common goal in mind and that was to head south to Florida.
How they managed their south bound voyage is a mystery to me especially with all of the heavy commercial boat
traffic plying these waterways.
Scott did mention that part way down to Florida they got aggravated at their frequent groundings and in desperation
made the purchase of an official nautical chart.
Their astronomical amount of groundings continued and even increased because they couldn’t read their new chart
that was just like some strange hieroglyphics.
(Scott and Pat became very accomplished at extricating themselves from sand bars…but then they were in
possession of a huge tugboat powered vessel that only required a little extra throttle to go anywhere they pleased
even cutting channels as they went.)
Scott and Pat were real go-getters and by their second year in town they had made the purchase of an apartment
house at 20 Rhode Street just north of the city center and began renovations.
Scott took a job as bartender at the White Lion Bar. He was the main attraction and draw at this upscale
establishment and always made sure that all of his crony acquaintances and buddies had extra drinks at the right
price.
Whenever resourceful and energetic Scott was tending bar the place was always packed to standing room only
capacity with his loyal friends that could count on getting generous sized drinks and friendly service.
Every Sunday morning we like-minded social misfits gathered together for a weekly special event at the stately old
house Scott and Pat bought and were in the process of renovating at 20 Rhode Street.
Good friends congregated for a breakfast extravaganza that Scott lavished his culinary skills on amidst ongoing
construction renovations.
This special breakfast was created and catered by Scott and Pat and who went the extra mile to let their friends
know that they were extraordinary to them…we were happy to be a part of the “family”.
We felt sorry for Scott who had the most wonderful of plans coupled with his youthful energetic exuberant energy to
put into his dream house renovation project but lacked the money and basic skills required to finish off his
monumental project.
The over one-hundred year old home situated on four lovely shaded tree covered building lots presented a special
opportunity and the timing was definitely right for this project.
This undertaking would be requiring a complete internal make-over of the plumbing and electrical service plus
stripping the antiquated plaster and lath followed by a total new sheetrock job. Refurbishing the windows and doors,
installing a modern kitchen and bathrooms would be basic to the inside.
Outwardly the fix-up would be extensive and very labor intensive.
The finished product if done properly would make the innovator a handsome profit especially with the impending
land boom about to explode into wildly escalating property prices.
Well Scott had nearly everything he needed for this project. Timing, enthusiasm and determination were all the right
ingredients.
The only fly in the ointment was the capital. Scott just couldn’t put together the money he needed to follow through
and the net result was a beautiful dream coupled with his zealous obsessive and passionate toils all flushed down
the toilet and gone away.
Another huge and devastatingly disappointing mental disaster was what happened to Scott’s big fifty-five foot WWII
wooden mine sweeper boat and its gigantic Buda engine.
Scott became obsessed with the idea that shipworms, the wood devouring marine organisms were invading his
vessel and that any day his boat would take a trip to the bottom.
Here again Scott let his dream get carried away to the point of making a project so large that it would in the end
become his undoing.
Scott was going to save his boat from the ship eating worms by enshrouding it in Ferro-cement.
This in itself was a good idea because it would be a cheap and effective solution; though very labor intensive.
Here is where Scott’s fanciful dreaming got him carried away into another realm far over his head. Scott got the idea
to make his vessel bigger, so he extended the bow and stern.
Next he came up with the idea to make his power boat into a sailboat so he added a great ballasted keel.
Time, money, effort and dreams got Scott into this project way beyond his original necessity of keeping the ship
worms known as teredos out of his boat.
He was not sitting idly by, Scott was a man of action and he soon had his vessel clad in the proper metal armature
ready for the application of the special plaster that would transform his craft into a Ferro-cement boat.
The special materials were ordered, the plastering crew applied the special plaster containing the five crucial
ingredients and then poor Scott panicked.
I am not exactly sure what prompted Scott to blow the whistle on this project at this particular point in time but that
was exactly what he did do.
Scott got on the phone to the local fire department and had them rush over with their big fire-wagon and high
pressure pump to hose off all of the freshly applied plaster and return his ship to a mess that nobody then wanted to
own.
Soon after Scott and Pat split up and went their separate ways.
Pat was an extremely beautiful woman and the last we heard of her she married a well-to-do Jacksonville lawyer.
Scott disappeared from the St. Augustine scene much the same as he had appeared, totally unannounced.
These two very special people left me with mixed emotions.
Scott and Pat dreamed a dream, they struck off over unknown horizons and they tested the limits of their abilities.
But, unfortunately they failed to take those last few steps needed to accomplish the end result of success…at least
they made the efforts, lived their dream and that is commendable considering that very few will ever carry a dream
that far.
Jane and I wish these very special people well and salute Scott and Pat our like-minded social misfit friends, hoping
that they keep on dreaming their dreams.
next chapter
Scott and Pat Pothier and their big fifty-five foot WWII well weathered and worn wooden mine sweeper boat with its
gigantic Buda diesel engine.
This eager young couple with stars in their eyes and dreams in their hearts somehow managed to escape the work-
a-day-world and the political wartime politics to venture down from New York in their newly acquired antiquated
vessel that was a nearly forgotten relic of war but it was their yacht, home and escape vehicle.
With the absolutely starkest of floating flotsam Scott and Pats floating home was with the barest of amenities and the
bleakest in unpainted appearance of any of the vessels that came to drop anchor at St. Augustine this winter
season.
These two enthusiastic social misfits and escapists made the cut the minute they cast off the dock lines and headed
south not looking back.
They melded right into the Old City’s colorful collection of dropout live-aboard sailors in Matanzas Bay this winter
season of 1972-73.
With their stark craft lacking any paint, polished fittings or portholes and no cabin or wheel house these two
dreamers set out down the Hudson River in New York State with an old weather worn canvas tarp provisionally
covering the place where a previous wheel house might have been.
What was so admirable about these two dedicated adventurers was that when the impulsive dream struck them they
didn’t wait around for the perfect yacht or the tall stack of loot so they could marina hop in high-style.
Scott and Pat took what was at hand and split because instinctively they some how knew fullfilled dreams only
happen to those that take that affirmative move here and now.
Procrastinators scuttle their own dreamboats.
The sparse stripped to the ribs innards of this lover’s dream-boat had even less to offer in the way of appointments
and amenities.
Two long weather worn planks propped at precarious angles in the bilge served as their only furniture.
Their bed, their chairs and their table were all fashioned by these two unattached planks. A tiny one burner Swedish
Primus kerosene stove made due for all their onboard galley cooking.
Ropes were provisionally strung at mid-ships that made up a hanging closet and doubled as their room divider.
With the main centerpiece of their happy but humble little abode conspicuously prominent and inescapable from
view within the innards of their confined living room sat the ancient giant Buda diesel engine’s massive iron
presence that was a constant reminder that you were really in the engine room.
Believe it or not these two eager societal escapees were partaking of the most wonderful, glorious and hilarious time
of their lives and definitely having a bigger lark in life than anyone we have ever met on luxurious varnished big-
buck yachts…its all about attitude!
This definitely made drop-out Scott and Pat into the kind of social misfits that St. Augustine attracted like the Pied-
Piper.
These two free-spirits may have dropped out and flown away from the mainstream but they were definitely dropping
into a real life of dreams fulfilled. Scott and Pat didn’t need to impress anybody and honestly never gave that notion
a second thought…they had the best of the best that life had to offer.
Scott and Pat knew where home was and they signed our guest book aboard Dursmirg with their only address as
Matanzas Bay.
Ignorance is bliss and dumb-luck and beginners-luck all had to be with these two incredibly blessed neophyte want-
to-be mariners on their maiden voyage down from up-state New York using only a roadmap to navigate the
waterways by.
Scott was like the one man band when it came to operating his improvised makeshift provisional make-it-do Rube-
Goldberg vessel’s machinery.
The grand size of his six cylinder Buda diesel engine that filled most of the cabin space below decks was a downright
intimidating oversized piece of machinery.
Scott being small and slight of stature but agile even made the contrast in size to the big Buda power plant more
pronounced.
The actual show of lighting off the engine and getting underway really was a sight to behold; watching Scott scamper
around his boat like a scared hamster in the process of starting his intimidating sized immense Buda was a three
ring circus preformed by a one-man-band.
Jury-rigged with provisional ropes and wires attached to various levers, cranks, handles and a variety of curious
ancient cast iron contraptions Scott flew around his vessel and up and down his crudely hammered together
companionway ladder working a multitude of his improvised innovations in a practiced sequential routine that
amazingly got his big Buda to spring into life.
The next sequential event would come together with yet another amazing well practiced ritualistic routine as Scott
got ready to pull his anchor.
His shift lever and accelerator control had their idiosyncrasies that Scott could handle with kicks, hammer blows and
much hyperactive animated high-speed maneuverings. This was a no-frills operation that had no anchor windless or
power assisted steering so the engine would play a big part in breaking the anchor loose…but little Scott still had to
man-handle his cumbersome ground tackle on board.
I am still in amazement at just how these two people stepped aboard, cast off the dock lines and headed down the
Hudson River to the sea with no nautical charts but only a road map and positively no prior knowledge of anything
even remotely nautical.
They had one common goal in mind and that was to head south to Florida.
How they managed their south bound voyage is a mystery to me especially with all of the heavy commercial boat
traffic plying these waterways.
Scott did mention that part way down to Florida they got aggravated at their frequent groundings and in desperation
made the purchase of an official nautical chart.
Their astronomical amount of groundings continued and even increased because they couldn’t read their new chart
that was just like some strange hieroglyphics.
(Scott and Pat became very accomplished at extricating themselves from sand bars…but then they were in
possession of a huge tugboat powered vessel that only required a little extra throttle to go anywhere they pleased
even cutting channels as they went.)
Scott and Pat were real go-getters and by their second year in town they had made the purchase of an apartment
house at 20 Rhode Street just north of the city center and began renovations.
Scott took a job as bartender at the White Lion Bar. He was the main attraction and draw at this upscale
establishment and always made sure that all of his crony acquaintances and buddies had extra drinks at the right
price.
Whenever resourceful and energetic Scott was tending bar the place was always packed to standing room only
capacity with his loyal friends that could count on getting generous sized drinks and friendly service.
Every Sunday morning we like-minded social misfits gathered together for a weekly special event at the stately old
house Scott and Pat bought and were in the process of renovating at 20 Rhode Street.
Good friends congregated for a breakfast extravaganza that Scott lavished his culinary skills on amidst ongoing
construction renovations.
This special breakfast was created and catered by Scott and Pat and who went the extra mile to let their friends
know that they were extraordinary to them…we were happy to be a part of the “family”.
We felt sorry for Scott who had the most wonderful of plans coupled with his youthful energetic exuberant energy to
put into his dream house renovation project but lacked the money and basic skills required to finish off his
monumental project.
The over one-hundred year old home situated on four lovely shaded tree covered building lots presented a special
opportunity and the timing was definitely right for this project.
This undertaking would be requiring a complete internal make-over of the plumbing and electrical service plus
stripping the antiquated plaster and lath followed by a total new sheetrock job. Refurbishing the windows and doors,
installing a modern kitchen and bathrooms would be basic to the inside.
Outwardly the fix-up would be extensive and very labor intensive.
The finished product if done properly would make the innovator a handsome profit especially with the impending
land boom about to explode into wildly escalating property prices.
Well Scott had nearly everything he needed for this project. Timing, enthusiasm and determination were all the right
ingredients.
The only fly in the ointment was the capital. Scott just couldn’t put together the money he needed to follow through
and the net result was a beautiful dream coupled with his zealous obsessive and passionate toils all flushed down
the toilet and gone away.
Another huge and devastatingly disappointing mental disaster was what happened to Scott’s big fifty-five foot WWII
wooden mine sweeper boat and its gigantic Buda engine.
Scott became obsessed with the idea that shipworms, the wood devouring marine organisms were invading his
vessel and that any day his boat would take a trip to the bottom.
Here again Scott let his dream get carried away to the point of making a project so large that it would in the end
become his undoing.
Scott was going to save his boat from the ship eating worms by enshrouding it in Ferro-cement.
This in itself was a good idea because it would be a cheap and effective solution; though very labor intensive.
Here is where Scott’s fanciful dreaming got him carried away into another realm far over his head. Scott got the idea
to make his vessel bigger, so he extended the bow and stern.
Next he came up with the idea to make his power boat into a sailboat so he added a great ballasted keel.
Time, money, effort and dreams got Scott into this project way beyond his original necessity of keeping the ship
worms known as teredos out of his boat.
He was not sitting idly by, Scott was a man of action and he soon had his vessel clad in the proper metal armature
ready for the application of the special plaster that would transform his craft into a Ferro-cement boat.
The special materials were ordered, the plastering crew applied the special plaster containing the five crucial
ingredients and then poor Scott panicked.
I am not exactly sure what prompted Scott to blow the whistle on this project at this particular point in time but that
was exactly what he did do.
Scott got on the phone to the local fire department and had them rush over with their big fire-wagon and high
pressure pump to hose off all of the freshly applied plaster and return his ship to a mess that nobody then wanted to
own.
Soon after Scott and Pat split up and went their separate ways.
Pat was an extremely beautiful woman and the last we heard of her she married a well-to-do Jacksonville lawyer.
Scott disappeared from the St. Augustine scene much the same as he had appeared, totally unannounced.
These two very special people left me with mixed emotions.
Scott and Pat dreamed a dream, they struck off over unknown horizons and they tested the limits of their abilities.
But, unfortunately they failed to take those last few steps needed to accomplish the end result of success…at least
they made the efforts, lived their dream and that is commendable considering that very few will ever carry a dream
that far.
Jane and I wish these very special people well and salute Scott and Pat our like-minded social misfit friends, hoping
that they keep on dreaming their dreams.
next chapter