Last year, I spent six months building an 18-foot sailboat with the acting money I earned playing a detective on NBC's "Law & Order." Since that show kept getting rerun, the residual checks were rolling in. It was the first time in 20 years of trying that I didn't have to support my acting career with a soul-killing day job.
Joe Forbrich with his 18-foot, soul-fulfilling creation, Jenny, in the background. Photos courtesy of Joe Forbrich
I was inspired to build the sailboat after reading a book called, "Wooden Boats: In Pursuit of the Perfect Craft at an American Boatyard." The book was a gateway, an avatar, a distant call whose voice I couldn't quite make out, but I knew I had to answer.
Gannon & Benjamin Marine Railway, based in Vineyard Haven, is an old school builder: plank on frame, no fiberglass, 60- and 70-foot wooden testaments to the enduring beauty of practical craftsmanship handed down through thousands of years. Many of the vessels were designed by Nat Benjamin, whose accomplishments, philosophy, and ethic all resonate with me on a visceral level.
The launch ceremony for my little boat was attended last August by 40 of my family and friends, many of whom sacrificed their time, tools, or turf in order that the "Jenny" be born.
In character: Joe Forbrich as Detective Cormack on "Law & Order," with Jesse L. Martin, one of the stars of the popular television show.
On our first sail, I told my other Jenny (my fiancée) to reach into the cabin and open a box I told her held a special pirate flag I had ordered.
"This is no pirate flag."
Indeed, it was a silver Elsa Perretti necklace from Tiffany's to match the ring I had given her the previous year - a token of appreciation for her patience, love, and forbearance while I pursued my dream of this boat.
When we visited Jen's mother in her Cape Cod beach house, I got it into my head to take the ferry to Martha's Vineyard and make a pilgrimage to the mythical Gannon & Benjamin Marine Railway. Scaffolding surrounded the most majestic giant skeletons of tropical hardwood, and indeed since the advent of cheap fiberglass, G&B is one of the last institutions keeping this particular species from extinction.
Nat wasn't there, but his employees, some of whom I'd also read about in the book, showed me around. Any other place would have quoted insurance regulations prohibiting the general public from enjoying such a singular experience, but not these guys.
"Sure, c'mon up!"
I climbed the scaffolding and peered inside from every angle. It was nothing short of rapturous. Tears formed in my eyes. Here was everything I'd read and dreamed about: The shop with the antiquated but perfect tools, the railway to slide these elegant monsters into Vineyard Haven harbor, and the sail loft above where the ladies stitched the clothing for the masts. I showed the fellows photos of my own little (plywood) boat, resulting in murmurs of affectionate approval.
Now, I've met a lot of famous people, but I was never more nervous than when Nat himself drove up in his pickup truck just as I was about to leave.
I began to babble. I couldn't shut up: "My name is Joe. I read the book about you -"Wooden Boats" -and I was inspired to build my own, and I wanted to thank you for the inspiration your life and your boats and your genius and your philosophy and ... I'm going to work for you one day!"
I have no idea where that last prophecy came from, but to my continuing astonishment at how the universe works, it is about to come true.
Four weeks ago I auditioned for a play called "FLY" at the Vineyard Playhouse, eight blocks from the boatyard. The play is about the Tuskegee Airmen, a squadron of black fighter pilots who, despite the incredible odds and racism stacked against them, managed to never lose a bomber they were assigned to protect. No other WWII squadron can claim such a rate of success.
I got the part of the racist flight instructor. I then wrote to Nat and asked if I could work at his boatyard.
He wrote back: "Your offer to help around the yard is gratefully accepted."
So after an eventful and sometimes terrifying journey in my little sloop from Long Island to Martha's Vineyard, during which the prayer "Oh Lord, protect me, for the sea is so wide and my boat is so small," was never far from my lips, I started rehearsal at the playhouse, and when the play is running, I will be acting at night and learning to build and repair wooden boats by day - a day job I'll have no problem with at all.
Joe Forbrich played detective Joe Cormack on NBC's "Law & Order," and is a cast member of "FLY," which opened last week at the Vineyard Playhouse.
