A promise to a friend is kept: Finishing the building of a boat

It rests outside in an open shed, beautiful in its simplicity, the high smell of its varnish mixing with the smell of salt coming on strong breezes from open water nearby. The boat’s flowing lines and deep wood coloring marks it as more than just a builders’ work in progress, but something that’s treasured. That impression becomes even more apparent when you learn that the 14-foot Peapod is the work of an Islander for a friend who had passed away midway to completing the project, and was picked up by the survivor as a legacy to their long friendship.

Peter Reich showed a visitor recently the yawl he was finishing that was being built by Andy Reeve until he was hospitalized in April 2015 and then passed away at his home with his wife Barbara Jean (BJ) Ianfolla and their son Casey.

Mr. Reich saw him in the hospital when “he knew his time was getting down to the single digits,” Mr. Reich said. “I knew he was building the boat, and thought to myself, ‘What if it was me and I knew I couldn’t finish it?’ So I said to Andy, ‘I’ll finish it for you.’ And he was really happy.”

Mr. Reeve had finished the hull and was working on other parts when he figuratively passed the tools to his friend. Mr. Reich said he has worked on the boat “whenever I get the chance, making the rails and seats.” 

He’s been busy with other projects, including completing “America’s Great Loop,” a journey that circumnavigates the eastern part of the U.S. and Canada, cruising up the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway, through the New York State Canals, into the Great Lakes, down the inland river system, across the Gulf of Mexico, and around the southern tip of Florida.

Younger Days

The two men met in the Nassau Coliseum in 1975 at a Neil Young concert when their mutual friend Greg Griffin, affectionately known as “Sharkbait,” introduced them. The three young men, Mr. Reich remembered “were always in trouble.” Asked what kind of trouble, he said, “staying out too late at The Dory, riding motorcycles through the bar.” There was more, his smile indicated, but it was best left unsaid.

Mr. Reeve was one of the Island’s most distinguished mariners. He built boats — he and Mr. Reich took a boat building course together in Maine — but he was hands-on the wheel and not just in the shop. A South Ferry captain, he worked in the maritime industry across Shelter Island, Rhode Island, and Florida. He had earned a master’s degree in Transportation Management and his Third Mate’s license from SUNY Maritime, later achieving his Master’s Unlimited license while working for Maritime Overseas Corporation.

His commitment to his fellow islanders was strong, serving as a 25-year Shelter Island Fire Department member, holding roles as Truck Captain and Fireboat Captain. He also served over a decade as a Fire Commissioner. 

Lost and Found 

The two friends also shared one of the most noted marine adventures in modern Shelter Island history. In October 1980 they set sail on a 31-foot sloop named Polar Bear, bound for the Bahamas, a trip they had taken before. This time would be different. 

They sailed into a fierce Atlantic storm that wrecked their boat and literally washed them overboard with just a few provisions, including eight slices of cheese, some ginger ale and signal flares. They spent five days in a plastic life raft only about 5-feet in diameter. For days they were at the mercy of 70-to 80-knot winds. The flares didn’t seem to help, Mr. Reich remembered.

“We saw a ship coming about a mile away,” he said, “but apparently couldn’t spot us.” Another boat about half a mile away went on its way without noticing a flare or the raft.

But after the five days, one of the flares worked, and they were rescued by a Polish ship. They eventually reached Helsinki, Finland, where the idea that Shelter Island is never truly far away no matter where you are, became true. Going to the U.S. embassy, their driver asked where they were from, and learning they were Islanders, said, “I know Shelter Island. That’s a great place.” 

The two friends looked at each other. After what had happened to them, here was one more unexpected twist. Seems the driver had spent time here in the late 1970s with his friend, John Kaasik.

Saving the Jolly

Mr. Reich, remembering the long, perilous journey, said that there probably is no better way to secure a friendship than being adrift on a wild ocean for days and coming though the ordeal together. 

“We had a special bond,” he said, looking at the boat he’s naming Jolly, a play on Mr. Reeve’s and Ms. Ianfolla’s grandsons’ names, Jameson and Oliver, and will present it to their son, Casey. 

Finishing the boat is more than a labor of love. It’s preserving something he and his friend believed in. “I knew I had to finish it,” Mr. Reich said. “And I think Andy knew it had to be finished. We couldn’t just leave it the way it was, to become a planter in a yard somewhere and eventually be thrown out. It had to be finished to get on the water.”