Raising masts and christening the hull with its name.

Gallery in post below.

With the deck and rudder securely in place, the project shifted into a deeply moving chapter. My dad’s complete, unwavering focus now turned to stepping the four towering masts—the structural backbone that would give this historical sailing ship her true, majestic character and unmistakable silhouette against the skyline.

Stepping a complex multi-masted barque at scale is no small feat; it is a delicate exercise in spatial geometry and absolute patience. Every mast had to be meticulously plumbed, angled to match historical blueprints to the precise degree, and anchored to carry the visual weight of future rigging. A tiny deviation at deck level would become a glaring, unsightly lean up high. Working slowly and deliberately with hands that had weathered a lifetime of craftsmanship, he adjusted each spar until the skeletal framework stood proud and true, capturing that defiant posture of a 1908 windjammer ready to face open water.

And then came the moment that truly bridged the gap between raw construction and creation: applying the vessel's name across the bow and stern.

To an outsider, it might have just looked like adding lettering to a finished model. But to my dad, a man who deeply respected old maritime traditions, this was a genuine christening. It carried the solemn weight of a shipyard launch—a sacred, quiet milestone that only lifelong seafarers and dedicated builders truly understand. Affixing those letters changed everything in an instant. All the months of tedious fibreglass work, stubborn sanding, and messy paint jobs melted away, and a collection of handmade parts suddenly transformed into a living, breathing vessel.

Standing back to look at her with the name proudly stamped where the world could see, you could feel the immense emotional resonance of what he had achieved. It was no longer just a scale replica of a forgotten era; it was a monument to quiet persistence, shared family history, and a father's enduring love for the sea that would outlast us all.