Monday, November 14, 2011

Works Of The Masters: II

     We were gluing up a wooden mast, and my father assigned me the task of making the glue paddles. These were always a disposable item, used once and thrown away, so I (the wise fourteen year old) wasted no time band sawing out some rough paddles quite worthy of being thrown away. No, said my father, they need to be thinner, beveled on the working edges, cleaned up. Quickly, I refined my glue paddles, and as quickly was reminded that I knew how we make our glue paddles. He then showed me; a chisel-like blade, sides and end angled off to thin, sharp working edges, cleaned up with sandpaper, with a long and comfortably sized hand grip. They were fine tools to do a fine job, an extension of the hand and the mind's eye. To do fine work one must have fine tools, which allow the practiced craftsman to see only the work and not the tools. This is a lesson not just of tools, but of the mindset of the master; glue paddles may seem a trifling matter, but as Michelangelo said, "trifles make perfection, and perfection is no trifle." Those glue paddles were thrown away when that job was done; of late, I have taken to re-using these fine little tools.


     This is not to imply that every, or indeed any, detail of craftsmanship should be endlessly agonized over; that is the Apprentice's burden, who struggles with his first-steps in rudimentary tasks (such as, making the glue paddles); who then learns the economics of the trade as Journeyman, becoming proficient at performing fine, repeated tasks with precision and speed. The Master works with directness of purpose and a minimum of motions; they see the finished work before a single cut is made, work which seems to just fall from their hands. This is necessary for the craftsman in a competitive marketplace; and, desirable for the hobbyist and aspiring boat builder who understands and appreciates that the satisfaction of fine workmanship lies in the constant growth and refinement of skills and knowledge, as is true of sailing, golf, or any valued pastime.

     
     But before a single cut is contemplated, the design must be clear, even precisely calculated and drawn down to the final detail. This is a matter of process left to personal preference; some will work through the parts as they come to them, relying on creativity and experience as their guide. This will give results as good as the builders' knowledge allows; much as with the historic, often single generation, exemplary examples noted previously. Conversely, there are methods, techniques, records, technologies, which are the intellectual tools to bring the virtues of past works forward to present works. This is worth discussing before we proceed to specific examples of successful, Master-level vessels.

     The process of design is the process of accounting for multiple requirements of energetic and static function, large and small, until a single operational whole made of many interconnecting pieces has been achieved. It is best that the accurate determination of intention be acquired at the outset; that is to say, the actual use for the boat, in fairly specific terms, in order that form may be made to follow function. Here, it must be said, that design often does require agonizing over the small details, as there are so many competing factors to be simultaneously considered within limited dimensions, space, and available energy. This is the fascination of design, almost always beginning with seemingly impossibly competing complexities and evolving towards absolute simplicity, the most complex thing of all to achieve. Nature always seeks the path of least resistance, refining her designs to do the most with the least energy and materials.  All good design follows this path to least resistance, efficient in the use of material and energy, confirming again by mathematical proof the natural beauty in all good design.


     Designers thus always draw on works of the past to propel their present work forward. Whether taking guidance and lessons from the ancient or contemporary, or from their own most recent work, it remains that knowledge must build on knowledge. Failures, particularly spectacular failures, are often most fruitful. Ultimately, however, successes yield the most consistent successes, and boat owners no longer bang their shins on sharp protruding bunk corners if their designer has been adequately aware and diligent.


     The science of hull design for pleasure boats presents a unique set of questions to the embodiment of collected, most often mathematically expressed, knowledge of the subject. It often seems the most pertinent questions go unasked; by the client of the designer, or by the designer of the environment and conditions to be operated in. Defining purpose, asking questions, is the first step in producing successful designs. Computer technology has created the opportunity to mathematically model the complex forms of boat hulls, though the computer program must ideally be updated to reflect real world experience (science is: the facts of our experience set in order.) Into this modeling, then, must enter a level of experience (ideally of all parties) to begin the process of model-making; purpose must shape the math, to some extent. And then, the questions posed by the marine environment enter the equation, especially for human, wind, and small engine powered vessels. Yacht design has been called a series of compromises, but it is in fact a series of averages. The exception is highly specialized craft operating in controlled environments, such as racing shells and flatwater kayaks.


     Having moved this discussion along a winding course, the next several posts will (finally) be devoted to specific, successful vessels, including reflections on their design, construction, and careers. Of interest is the role played by all of the parties to these exceptional craft, the owners, designers, and builders. There is ultimately a point to these posts, which hopefully will begin to become clear if you bear with me a little longer.

     

     

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Works Of The Masters: I

     Knowledge builds on knowledge; experience bridges the generations and, if dedication prevails, refines the methods of building knowledge and the work that knowledge builds. Cave paintings of the distant past still mesmerize us with the skill of the ancient unknown masters; somehow, we know, the line from those cave artists winds its way through time until Michelangelo adds his own cave paintings to history's caves, a feat impossible without that first, equally brilliant artist. So it is with all masters.

     To lash logs into a useful raft without rope or saws required a series of skills developed over generations, plus a single-minded initiative to try it for the first time. Trial and error lead to the best methods and materials available, but knowledge is only gained if passed along to new generations. And, someone in every group was always more skilled, more naturally gifted with clear vision to guide practiced, inspired hands; the Master. This line winds its' way down streams and rivers and across oceans to the heights of  toolmaking and craftsmanship we will discuss in this posting. And, of materials, as the science of materials and their best use has been and remains at the heart of the Masters' palette.

     Boat building before the advent of modern adhesives and beddings was completely reliant on the skill and knowledge of the boatbuilder. Tight joints were more than a mark of the builders' skill; tight joints are structural, they prevent the twisting and working that leads to leaking, rot, and oblivion. This is another point where right-brain intuition recognizes the quality in tight fitting joints for the logical reason that tight joints equal structural integrity.

     It is worth remarking that when we examine the watercraft of successful waterborne peoples, we invariably find a functional gracefulness present in their vessels. Where life and livelihood depend on successful design, all contrivance is literally washed away by that greatest of teachers, experience. From this functional seed comes the intuitive recognition of good design, which over time has become recognized as beauty.

     Howard Chapelle, the prolific chronicler of America's historic watercraft and ships, noted that vessels of exceptional ability and performance would typically originate from one place for a span of perhaps fifty years; the working life of a rare individual. Before and after the time of these local masters, local watercraft were indistinct from other vessels of that region. Indeed the quality often dropped precipitously even as the lingering reputation kept orders for new vessels flowing in; until too many disappointments soured the reputation. We must take pains not to underestimate the gifts of rare individual ability, even in this age of technological wizardry. 

     There is, I hope, an obvious point to this discourse; that there are throughout history living and dead those rare individuals conceiving and creating exceptional works of beauty and function in this universe of waterborne craft. Next we will look at the process of transferring and translating the product of rare talent to new works, both as direct production and the discerned elements of skill.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Designs For The Master

     The master craftsman sees the finished work before a single cut is made. This requires a combination of vision and confidence, born of experience and dedication. Watching a master at work enlightens one to the possibilities of human ability; as my father once said of such craftsmen, "the work just seems to fall from their hands." It is good to know there are paths to higher places if we are inclined to go there.

     I have always maintained that the work of the master deserves to be displayed in a palette worthy of the master's skill. In the design of boats, whether large or small, there exists a unique opportunity to create form with function, at a level of interaction with nature that exists in few endeavours. Wright could only marry his architecture to one natural setting, but the designer, the builder of boats has every ocean and port to challenge and display his work. There is an imperative, I believe, to bring beauty and grace to every aspect and detail of a fine boat design, which becomes the basis, the palette, in which the master may work. 

     The process of designing boats for what I am calling the Master's level begins with this mindset, I believe; that every line and part must be drawn and planned with singular purpose and proportion, in context of the whole and finished work. Hulls must first be refined and functional; but railings must be tapered on both planes, to also look proportional and to best complement the boat. Cabins, coamings, seats, interiors, need to be scaled, shaped, curved, and arranged to appear completely natural and provide complete comfort. This attention to refinement in detail will make the craftsmans' efforts worthwhile,  for builder and owner alike. It is a truism that exceptionally fine boats tend to be built well and serve their owners for many years.

     In earlier articles, I addressed the role of technology in the design and building of boats. Here I would like to expound for a moment on the concept of beauty and aesthetics in design, as we have seen for many decades now a trend  towards designing what I will politely refer to as unattractive boats. This has been especially true, as we know, in mass production boats, which must serve many purposes for many people, mostly in the context of a boat show in winter. In the world of sailing, blame must also always by laid at the feet of rating rules, the IOR  of the 1970's being particularly offensive. Once a concept is successful in competition, it is inevitably adapted for general use, except when the requirements of "general use" are combined with optimized performance, the result is generally awkward at best. Thus we have the ubiquitous deep-V racing powerboat transformed into beamy pleasure boats,  when the deep-V really only works well in narrow boats going 80 knots or better. Out of these decades of mass production boats, poorly conceived sailboat rules, marketing driven boat design, and the endless call for more comforts of home when people leave home, an odd belief has taken hold amongst so-called (self-called) boating experts, that beautiful boats are slow, and boats must be ugly to be fast.


     Added to this has been the improvement in computer design capability, with an especial increase in the ability to use mathematical models in the development of hull design, and we have a complete transition to boats that seemingly meet the criteria of advanced design through improved technology. They do tend to look like they were drawn by machine, however; and while this may in fact be immaterial to a boats' performance, it raises this perhaps esoteric question of why some things "look" right to us, while other objects do not.


     The answer lies in our bifurcated brains. Specifically, it lies in the right side of our brains, which is the non-verbal, non-logical side; which, it turns out, processes information 100 times faster than the logical left side of our brains. This means that, when we look at an object, our left brain makes an analytical study of the object, based on prior knowledge and the facts that are readily apparent or attainable at the moment (the boat is deep-V like an offshore racing powerboat; it must be fast like an offshore racing powerboat). Our right brain, meanwhile, makes a rapid, non-verbal, non-technical analysis of the object, and quickly discerns that the boat is too wide, too deep, and too heavy to be truly fast. This is communicated to the left brain as a "feeling", a gut sense. Similarly, show your brain a Ferrari, and it will know the Ferrari is fast, because it is streamlined and just "looks" fast. The same is true when shown an old bi-plane and a fighter jet, and so on. Boats seem to be the exception that proves this rule.

     My approach to boat design attempts to combine the two, the logical and the aesthetic, sides of the brain. I still use half-models carved of pine, to develop my hull shapes. But, I also work with the fundamental theories of hydrodynamics to establish necessary  parameters and proportions.This is in practice an admittedly arduous approach to what is already a difficult trade. But I feel the combination of technical and aesthetic input results in better boat designs: if they "look about right," my experience is that they will be about right.


     The above reference to railings needing to be tapered on both planes is not simply for appearance sake. If a rail is taller. it requires a wider base to be sufficiently strong. This is why structures that are not proportioned properly "look" weak. I should add, that the process for arriving at proportions for structures may take several courses; there are scantling rules, which generally err on the side of caution. For the less critical, but eye-appeal sensitive pieces, there is the practiced, experienced eye. And then, there is the pure and proper engineering approach, which is to determine working and high stress load potentials, and engineer the structure accordingly. This will always result in a structure as perfectly proportioned as a birds' wing, and for the same fundamental reason. Structures developed to fulfill a purpose waste no weight in material, and so are absolutely graceful. Or, if a structure looks clunky, it has not been refined to its best potential.

    
     I mention all of this because boat design is, first and foremost, functional. Boats must perform under the harsh real conditions of water and weather, over extended lives, but with no excessive weight or mass. Proportion and grace are, then, functional; it is the refinement of functionality that brings gracefulness to the finished work.


     In my next postings, I will examine and describe some designs which in my estimation have achieved the level of Master's design; this will be followed by some thoughts for builders, amateur and professional, on the approach to take before building a boat such as these.


    

     

    

     

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Four By Four

     After these many years of working on boats, their design, new construction, and maintenance, I have become aware that different people want boats that possess different levels of finesse and finish. This may be for reasons of taste, utility, economics, or upkeep; there is no right or wrong here, only personal preference, and if the plain boat gets used more than the gilded one, it is by my lights the more successful boat. Having reached this conclusion, I have (perhaps arbitrarily) decided to divide my design work into four distinct groups, based on the levels of skill, time, and finish each will take to construct; and, with a concurrent consideration of the skill levels needed to use and maintain the  finished boats. I have given these four groups the distinguishing, traditional labels of: Masters, Journeyman, Apprentice, and Work Boat, which I trust will aid in providing clarity of the intent behind each design in each group.

     I have also learned over the years that there are in essence four ways by which someone (individual, group, family) will come to acquire and own a new boat built in the one-off or one-at-a-time universe.The first is to have a boat built to order by a professional builder to an agreed upon level of finish. The second is to purchase a pre-cut kit, and assemble and finish the boat yourself. Third is to build a boat for yourself in a classroom setting. And, fourth, build for yourself a boat from a set of plans (or digital files). Naturally, there will be some overlaps between these, as one may want help with parts of assembling a kit, or one may take some classes to learn how to build a boat at home. But these are the four primary ways a person may come to acquire a new, personalized boat.

     The process of deciding which approach best suits an individual must consider such factors as cost, time available to work on a project, timeline for when the boat is wanted, personal skills, intended use for the boat; and, the nature of one's personal interests; as some want a project and others want a boat. There is also the question of customization, available in every format and level, but an issue always subject to time management and the value of usefulness added to the final product.


     In separating boat designs into four levels based on finesse and finish, it goes without saying that here, too, there is some overlap and blurring of the lines. I have built simple, flat bottom skiffs with bright finished mahogany throughout (the Masters Skiff); while my father designed and built one of the finest motorboat hulls in existence, finished plain for charter fishing. But, as a general point of discussion, I will next offer my definition of the four levels in my forthcoming postings.

Friday, September 30, 2011

Virtual Business

     The business model described in my previous postings add up to what has been coined a "virtual business," meaning a business that focuses on core design and development operations, and then contracts with other businesses to perform various manufacturing, assembly, and delivery processes. The idea really is not new; automobile manufacturers have always done this, as have aircraft builders, defense contractors, and so on. The new thing is, of course, the computer linked to other computers via the internet and now other media. This simply speeds up the process of keeping parts and processes in the pipeline and coordinated with various schedules along the assembly process. It is the basis of how Jon Persson Designs will operate at scale in the years ahead.

     To move this process forward, I will be actively developing working relationships with businesses capable of supplying the technology support, parts cutting and finishing, assembly, and delivery that this business model requires. This will naturally include working with established boat builders, ultimately in a variety of regions to simplify the matter of delivering finished boats over long distances. The objective will be to establish an efficient order-to-delivery procedure that is workable for business associates and of value for clients.

     The transition and, frankly, the re-grouping underway at this business will require many days of small steps to reach the major points along the way. The first step has been to open up a broad discussion of ideas, concepts, business plans, and most of all, designs; to which purpose this blog is devoted. With this site, a continuous broadcast of this passage will be forthcoming to include both the projects and developments as they unfold.  

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

The Role Of Prototyping

     To fully and reliably develop and tool a new design, particularly one which incorporates any new concepts, it is standard practice and conventional wisdom to construct three finished prototypes of the new design. This allows new ideas to be fully tested, refinements to be made to the design, and tooling, processes, and assembly jigs to be developed and refined. Modern technology and reusable engineering do allow exceptions to this rule, especially when boats of similar configuration are being developed. Indeed, historically , designers of custom yachts would use construction methods that were standardized for all their work; and, such things as hatches, companionways, interior details, hardware, etc., were also standardized. Because each new design was in essence an evolution of the preceding design, changes in yacht design has tended to evolve quite slowly, over many years. Typically, "improvements" in design is measured on the race course, which opens up that whole Pandora's box of rating rules, course selections, and so on. It is in fact remarkable how sailboat design in particular has always suffered in the supposed crucible of competitive sailing.


     I am in general a believer in prototyping new designs, though in practical terms this means building a new design to order for a willing client. And, I am aware of the need to be generally conservative when developing a new design, relying on proven designs as a starting point and making incremental improvements. Once a particular type, and construction method, is established, it is quite easy to develop still new designs directly with benefit of the experience gained from the earlier design. I quite clearly had this experience with the Atlantic 17 and Atlantic 19 open water rowing boat designs, where I built in fact four Atlantic 17's, using #2 as a test bed for new ideas, before arriving at a nicely fine-tuned hull design built on plywood frames that incorporate a structure to take the seat riser, allowing for wide adjustments in crew weight distribution. I was almost disappointed with how easy it was to design the same basic structure for the Atlantic 19. And so, there are very strong arguments for planning on and developing three finished prototypes for a given, uniquely new, design.

     Besides allowing for the development and refinement of hull designs, structure, arrangement, etc., prototyping also allows for the development and refinement of tooling, set-up and assembly jigs, chronologies of assembly, final material lists, photographs and videos, and anything else needed to make the set up and construction of the design as smooth as possible. Working out any "bugs" in the system, economizing on materials, etc., translates to greater economy in material and time costs down the line. And, the opportunity to test and demonstrate a new design is always beneficial.

     For these reasons, a central part of my business plan and model will be to ultimately re-establish a working shop primarily for the purpose of developing prototypes for new designs. The precise logistics of both establishing this shop, and of how prototyping work will be accomplished, is under development, and not in the short-term planning. But it will happen, all in due time.


    

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

More Thoughts On Technology and Boat Building

     My last posting began a discussion of fully utilizing modern technology in the process of building boats to order either one-off, or one-at-a -time. My contention has for some time been that the proper use of technology may bring a degree of basic efficiency to the building of boats to order that will allow pricing and even delivery to be competitive with production line boats, especially where unique and customized designs are desired. The primary advantage of working from digitized tooling is the ability to offer both endless variety and limitless variation; the advantage of production moulded fiberglass boats has always been the efficiency of building multiple boats from common tooling in a production setting. But floorplan costs, dealer profits, and marketing expenses have long altered this equation, and now technology has made it feasible to own unique, personalized boats without a major cost penalty.

     That said, we must now look at the full spectrum of technology as it applies to this field of modern boat building. I have already briefly addressed the obvious advantages of CADD/CNC technology; now I will take a look at the other critical role of technology, that of the supply-chain advantages to be exploited for modern boat building purposes.

     For companies like WalMart, supply chain management is a matter of keeping massive amounts of manufactured goods in the pipeline from the factory to the store. For factories, supply chain management means keeping adequate supplies of all parts in place where they are needed, as they are needed. This all fits under the umbrella of "just-in-time" inventory control (the Japanese industrialist credited with its' invention took his inspiration from American grocery stores; shelves are stocked, people come and get what they need when they need it, shelves are re-stocked as they become empty.)

     For a company like this one, the entire dynamic is different. Rather than move millions of identical parts or products to thousands of locations around the globe, we are moving small numbers of parts to produce a variety of final products, though still at locations around the world. It is my contention that the computer coding system does not care; it is simply processing information (we were entering the "information economy" in the 1990's; still are, I believe) and transmitting it to various places. And so, if an order is placed for a completely kitted 30 foot cruising sharpie, the computer will (with human prompting, of course) send out the orders for pre-cut parts, materials, hardware, sails, etc.; with all orders directed to be shipped to a single location for inspection, packaging, assembly etc. In theory, it should be possible to send everything needed to build that 30 foot motor launch to one location, and a 21 ft. sailboat to another, all in a constant pre-programmed order-to-delivery flow. This is what Jon Persson Designs is in the process of initiating.

     


    

Monday, September 19, 2011

Fully Exploiting Technology

     The last few decades have seen a revolution in design and manufacturing technology, much of which is fairly readily available to small businesses. This would include the obvious CADD programming (Computer Assisted Design and Drafting), and the ability to go straight from the design-by-computer stage to cutting parts (through CNC, Computer Numerical Control technology). It is the intent and planned business model of Jon Persson Designs to make full use of these technologies, in ways which will make designs simpler and more economical to build. 

     This process will include the digitizing of existing and new designs, which is the (binary) process by which drawings are plotted on computers in a format that allows individual pieces to be cut by CNC machines. This will naturally open up a wide range of possibilities for the production of boat parts and boats, including materials options, precision interlocking parts and set-up jigs, the scaling up or down of designs, and so on. Many concepts of structure and layout are feasible, to which a great deal of thought and conceptualizing has already been dedicated. 

     In developing a boat design, including all of the necessary components, to a point that may be considered "fully tooled and processed," it is best to start by considering the basic steps required to build the boat once the design and tooling are completed.Generally, for boats that meet the fully-tooled criteria, I prefer to divide the building process into four segments:


     1) Acquisition of all materials, hardware, parts, components, etc. This means having a detailed and dimensioned list of all of the above, which allows for everything needed to be ordered, assembled, and stored on site. It is, of course, an ideal to be strived for in one-off boatbuilding.


     2) Next, all parts that can be are cut out to final shape, milled to final dimension, etc. This can be accomplished with greater accuracy and completeness depending on the sophistication of tooling and processes in place: CNC cut parts are of course the most accurate and economically cut, while pieces needing final fitting can best be cut to rough dimension when an accurate manifest is available.


     3) And next, assemble all of the pieces. This is best accomplished with a well thought out chronology of steps, written in detail, supported by drawings and photographs/videos. Naturally, the level of experience possessed by the builder will weigh heavily on the amount of this information that need be included; however, even the most experienced builder appreciates the luxury of detailed plans and instructions.


     4) And finally, there is the finishing out of a boat. This includes the final shaping and fairing of  trim, filling and fairing of fastener holes, fiberglass weave, etc., followed by sealing, priming, and final painting. I would include installation of hardware, lights, and fittings as part of the "finishing out" of the boat. This is the always the busiest time in a boatbuilding project, but also the most rewarding short of using the boat.


     I will continue with this stream of thought with my next posting.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

A Time Of Transition

     This moment marks a transition in course and construct for the long, creative voyage of the Persson family. More than twelve decades after Frans ran away to sea, more than five decades after Finisterre won her third Bermuda Race, and after more than three decades of brothers Rick and Jon carrying on the craft and trade, the passing of Rick Persson marks a change from a purely craftsmanship-driven business to a design and tooling driven business. While over the past decades many new designs have resulted in many new boats, logistically speaking it will be necessary now to utilize technology and outside production sources to carry out many key processes. This will allow the dual opportunities of concentrating on developing a catalog of fully tooled designs, while creating the potential of new work for numerous manufacturers and boatbuilders.

     However, the course between the present position and future critical waypoints will require a few long tacks to reach. Upon Rick's passing, the shop and offices in Centerbrook had to be closed down, with all the vital pieces stored away, for the time being. A business based in craftsmanship survives by the labor, talent, and skill of the craftsman; and, the halving of craftsmen made continuing at that location untenable. But now the first long tack is before your eyes, a discussion of designs, structure, ideas and concepts. Existing works will be described and put on offer, and new works will be added when ready; which brings us to the next long tack.

     As the first physical step towards re-constructing the business, an office will be set up and established in the coming months suitable to the design work, writing, marketing, and business office needs of the enterprise. A central part of this process will be the digitizing of all designs (a tack long overdue, alas), and the use of digital media to inform and interact with the supporters of this business..

     The latter idea  --- interacting with groups of people ---- comes with the prospect of developing designs with "crowd-source" input, the objective being to reach  consensus points that will allow the interests of many people to be met by single designs. Or, of many people contributing to the process of creating a special purpose design for a single person.

     The digitizing of existing and new designs opens up a vast array of possibilities, including material options, precision cutting of parts and set-up jigs, scaling up or down of designs, and so on. Many concepts of structure and layout are economically possible and greatly simplify the construction process.

     The next posting will continue this discussion of general boat design and construction concepts, and of the next tacks planned for the Persson boat business.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Richard Thomas Persson 2/24/55 - 2/20/11

     On February 20, 2011, the extended Persson family gathered to bid fair passage to Rick Persson, brother, uncle, husband, and friend. The sudden parting was softened only by a week of fading hope which allowed time to muster for last good-byes. This is a personal story, a family story; this is life.

      Now Rick's life and work are part of a family legacy that reaches back to father Seth and grandfather Frans. His is an early yet substantial story, writ of craftsmanship and style, structure and substance, versatility and speed. His work stands alone as the best testament to his skill and talents, a testament reported now by those who knew him best. This is also the personal legacy of Richard Thomas Persson, who sought and achieved a reputation as craftsman in his own right.

     The path of the craftsman is not easy and never truly finished. Each new project challenges the old skills, and the laurels of past works are but the standard to be met each day. There is no living rest for the craftsman.

     Now Rick is at his rest, the last project completed, tools put away. There is one vacant spot at the work bench, where we may pause from time to time to remember the life of a brother, uncle, husband, friend. And, master craftsman, a title won but never fully accepted, worn with humility in a life too short though, perhaps, just long enough.