The boat they launched last Thursday in East Boothbay is no beauty queen.
She is not a graceful sailing yacht or a sleek ocean racer.
The Lois Ann L. Moran is a Tugboat, a workhorse. A 121-foot long powerhouse with a blunt nose and a broad beam, designed to push a 450-foot petroleum barge up and down the East Coast.
It would not be good form to tell Bruce Doughty and Paul Tregurtha she is not gorgeous.
To the two executives who watched her slide and smoke her way down the ways Thursday, along with nearly 400 well-wishers, she is a Hollywood star, a Super Bowl Champ, a rare thing of beauty.
She is more than that.
To the crew at East Boothbay’s Washburn & Doughty Shipyard, “The Lois Ann,” is a mighty symbol of rebirth and success.
“She means pride, grit and determination,” said John Richardson, the chair of the Maine Dept. of Economic and Community Development.
Just one year and 12 days from the time a spark from a workman’s torch, – a workman who was working on “The Lois Ann”- burned down the shed that housed W&D’s shipyard, the tug, the new building and a proud Maine business were reborn.
The huge fire, which could be seen from as far away as Portland, took more than 125 firefighters from 31 departments and public safety agencies to control.
Although they did not save the historic wooden building, they checked the flames, saving nearby homes.
On Thursday, Tregurtha, the chairman of the board of Moran Towing, the nation’s largest Tugboat company, took time to congratulate Doughty and his crew for the hard work that led to a successful re-building of the yard.
Doughty didn’t do it alone.
Within hours of the fire, Moran officials offered their support. State Rep. Bruce Macdonald (D-District 61) got on the phone to state officials including Richardson.
Governor John Baldacci said if there were any bureaucratic bottlenecks, he would provide the “Draino” to clear them out. He did.
Maine’s two U.S. Senators, Olympia J. Snowe and Susan Collins, chipped in to expedite the federal process.
Boothbay Town Manager John Anderson took the lead on local issues.
Meanwhile, the Boothbay Region Land Trust partnered with the East Boothbay Methodist Church to set up a fund to raise money for displaced workers and to replace their tools.
The community fundraising effort, helped by major donations from Moran and other shipyard vendors, combined big donations with smaller funds gathered from community suppers, saloon sing-alongs, and children’s lemonade stands. Altogether, they brought in more than $100,000.
Lee Smith, the yard’s operations manager, praised the community’s effort.
“This community raised $100,000 for the [80] displaced employees, but we didn’t need it all. We had them back to work within 59 days,” he said.
Smith and the crowd gathered for the launching saved their loudest applause to thank the loyal shipyard workers.
Today Washburn & Doughty has more than 130 workers, some 50 more than they did before the fire. Several other Moran tugs are under construction.
Contractors cleared the rubble and built the new building around the charred hulk of Hull 94. Slowly, the hardy workers turned her into “The Lois Ann.”
As Washburn’s managers worked with contractors, insurance officials, and government agencies, Moran pitched in bringing in environmental help and pledged other services.
Most of all, the towing giant, which has purchased 24 tugs from Washburn & Doughty stood by the yard and honored their contracts, even though they knew the delivery might be a bit tardy.
“We were pleased to do it. They build good tugs and are honest people to do business with,” said Ted Tregurtha, Moran’s president.
Paul Tregurtha, Ted’s father, said Washburn & Doughty was more than a vendor.
As he stood on the launching platform, he turned to the bulldog-like shipyard owner and told the crowd he was proud to call Doughty a friend.
Doughty simply replied: “I’m humbled. Thank you.”
As her stern hit the drink, the friction from her huge bulk caused the ways to burn. Plumes of white smoke obscured the moment her bow found the river, and bobbed up and down for the first time.
This time, unlike the scene a year ago, when a column of pungent smoke rose from East Boothbay’s Washburn & Doughty shipyard, this plume of smoke was greeted with a mighty cheer.
