Name Boards, Trailboards & Just Plain Boreds (with Winter)

The last two winters in New England have been beautes! Total snowfall this winter was over 9 feet which set new records around here - five and half feet of it fell in February alone. The good news at the boatyard was that the snowdrifts were so high, no boat was in danger of tipping over in the hellacious wind.  At worst, they might heel a bit, but nothing more.

Well, with winters like that, it's good to have lot's to do in the shop. This was a winter of organizing and doing a lot of little things. Two of those things were, carving a name board and reconditioning the trailboards.

Goofing off at the Drafting Table

Carving a Name Board

I took this project on because I wanted to learn to how to do it. To those who have done this, or who do it for a living, what I am about to reveal is not new. For the rest of you, it is Gold: Make sure your tools are honed to a razor's edge. Or, as we say in the New England woods, "make shuwa yah chisels are wickahd shahp. My lesson learned here is that if they are not, it will show up in your work directly.

So I learned how to sharpen chisels (and planes, scissors etc.)  - a useful skill and one I will use repeatedly. There are several very good resources on the web for those interested in learning more about this, so I won't go into it in detail here (although I provide some links below). I will only say that if you want a good job (and why do it otherwise), the tools must be sharp.

A PRACTICE PIECE

Planning the Name

At any rate, since I didn't know what I was doing, I decided to savage a piece of pine rather than mahogany first time out. From Home Depot then, I got a four foot plank of white pine and started to outline the edges of the board and consider the letter spacing.

Beveled Edges

The goal here was to focus on the technique of carving the letters and I resolved to keep things pretty simple (no fancy carved scallop shells or mermaids - I will save that for the mahogany).  The letters were printed from "Word" and then transferred to poster board to make a template.

Next, using a small hand-held router, I gave the edges a simple bevel.

The Name Starts to Appear

This is where the pine board is savagely attacked by what I thought were sharp chisels. It was here I learned that "sharp" has to mean "really, really sharp - no kidding."  But that is why it is a practice piece.

Oh, one other piece of breaking news: you can't carve through a field of knots on a pine plank and expect it to come out looking good. Your chisels can be sharp enough to split light and it won't be enough.  Academically, I knew at least that much, but it was interesting to see it in action.

There are also a number of videos on carving letters. Again, the techniques vary and you just have to find the one (or ones) that fit your style, but they are instructive to be sure. Once the letters were cut out, I thought, well, what if I just painted this up (it's knotty pine after all)? My original idea for the final product was varnished mahogany with gold lettering, but since this was knotty pine, that wouldn't do.

So, what would it look like with the traditional gold on black?  Even if it never sees the ocean, it might look good hanging in the shop. This, by the way, is how projects take on wings and a mind of their own.

Stong shory lort, after a couple of coats of primer I painted it black and trimmed the edges and letters in gold.  The sheen comes from the two coats of varnish I applied over the whole thing when dry. I have to say, I was pleased with the result - it certainly passes the 10 foot rule - and given the size of the punch list still to go, it is quite possible that this savaged piece of Home Deport pine will adorn her stern for this season anyway.

Trailboards

Adagio's trailboards were much like the rest of her. Fundamentally sound, but in need of some repair and reconditioning.

The port trailboard had a piece missing from the trim - no doubt from an anchor fluke that got away while hauling and took a divot out of the trim.

So, I shaped a small scarf out of some scrap lumber and fitted it into place. Three clamps, glue and 24 hours later, it is fit to start shaping to the curve of the trailboard. It took awhile to get the taper right, but it was either that or shovel snow, so time was of no consequence.

On the left, the scarf is fitted and tapered.

On the right, the finished job (what appears to be a white smudge at the left end of the board is really a reflection from the light). Interlux Sea Green with white trim and gold vine design. Very slick.

WHEN YOU GIVE A MOUSE A COOKIE . . .

When my children were young, they enjoyed a book called "If you give a mouse a cookie." The story went on to describe all the things that will happen after the mouse gets his cookie (he'll want milk, a place to nap, a game to play after his nap and so on). It describes the interconnectedness of things.

And so it is with boats.  In order to do these projects, I needed to re-condition my chisels. This required a shelf for my bench grinder and storage for the various whetstones. To build the shelf required paneling the wall and running wiring to the socket and then, once the chisels were sharp, I needed a chisel rack to keep them handy (BTW, that chisel rack is Sitka Spruce left over from the mast work).

So, the moral to this story is, don't eat the cookies . . . and keep your chisels sharp.

References
1. Paul Sellers has a series of very good videos on a variety of chisel and plane related projects and techniques. In this one he takes some fairly inexpensive chisels and makes them worthy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ki8tt-VjwqI 
2. M. Scott Morton of Highland Woodworking uses a slightly different method than Sellers, but does a good job showing the flat of the chisel:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CADqyYA_e-U
3. Harry Bryan is an old Maine boatbuilder and does a series of very good videos for OffCenter Harbor. This site requires a subscription (which anyone interested in classic craft should get) so it might not be available.  http://www.offcenterharbor.com/videos/sharpening-plane-blades-part-1-harry-bryan/
4. Carving Letters: http://www.offcenterharbor.com/videos/wood-carving-part-2-carving-letters/

Origins of the Compass Rose

The compass rose has appeared on charts and maps since the 1300's when the portolan charts first made their appearance. The term "rose" comes from the figure's compass points resembling the petals of the well-known flower.

Originally, this device was used to indicate the directions of the winds (and it was then known as a wind rose), but the 32 points of the compass rose come from the directions of the eight major winds, the eight half-winds and the sixteen quarter-winds.

In the Middle Ages, the names of the winds were commonly known throughout the Mediterranean countries as tramontana (N), greco (NE), levante (E), siroco (SE), ostro (S), libeccio (SW), ponente (W) and maestro (NW). On portolan charts you can see the initials of these winds labeled around the edge as T, G, L, S, O, L, P, and M.

The 32 points are therefore simple bisections of the directions of the four winds (but the Chinese divided the compass into 12 major directions based on the signs of the Zodiac). For western apprentice seamen, one of the first things they had to know were the names of the points. Naming them all off perfectly was known as "boxing the compass."

There is no absolute standard for drafting a compass rose, and each school of cartographers seems to have developed their own. In the earliest charts, north is indicated by a spearhead above the letter T (for tramontana). This symbol evolved into a fleur-de-lys around the time of Columbus, and was first seen on Portuguese maps. Also in the 14th century, the L (for levante) on the east side of the rose was replaced with a cross, indicating the direction to Paradise (long thought to be in the east), or at least to where Christ was born (in the Levant).

The colors on the figure are supposedly the result of the need for graphic clarity rather than a mere cartographical whim. On a rolling ship at night by the light of a flickering lamp, these figures had to be clearly visible. Therefore the eight principle points of the compass are usually shown on the compass rose in black which stands out easily. Against this background, the points representing the half-winds are typically colored in blue or green and since the quarter-wind points are the smallest, they are usually colored red.

© Bill Thoen, 2013 (all rights reserved)
Reprinted with permission

---

References:

Cartographical Innovations:  an International Handbook of Mapping Terms to 1900

ed. by Helen M. Wallis and Arthur H. Robinson. - Tring, Herts: Map Collector Publications in association with International Cartographic Association, 1987. - ISBN 0-906430-04-6. (This was really quite good, and full of interesting history and details about maps - Bill)

Mapping

by David Greenhood. - The University of Chicago Press, 1964. ISBN 0-226-30696-8

ADAGIO

Princess, by Joe Richards

As some may have noticed, I have changed Desiree's name to Adagio.

Adagio is Italian and is most often seen as a musical dynamic instructing the musician to play "slowly, at ease."

At 17,000 pounds, I am under no illusions that Adagio is a fast sailor, but the iconic image of Joe Richards's Princess has always conveyed the feeling of pleasant ease, the "simply messing about in boats" of which Ratty was so fond.

"Adagio" is also used in ballet and refers to "slow and refined movements as a single phrase, in a fluid manner - each step linking seamlessly to the next."  In fact, the Adagio is often the opening section of the Grand pas de deux where the ballerina performs slow movements with her partner. And so, it fits what I hope is to be.

This image reminds me of years ago when I owned the catboat, Janou - my first gaff-rigged boat. An old gaffer told me then, "sail her slack. You can't crank her in tight like you do those Marconi rigs." Instinctively, I knew just what he meant. It had that feel of Adagio to me - . sailing her "slack" on a warm summer day with a lazy breeze on the quarter . . . .

Now, I've sailed enough to know that very few days of our preciously short summers are the lazy, at ease days I describe. My experience is that you're either becalmed or in a tempest that will blow your ears clear overboard. And any gaffer that gets caught with 550 square feet of mainsail flying when the wind pipes up is likely to be singing Santa Merda! (Allegro).

But still, sometimes the name is not the reality, it is the ideal.  And so it is with Adagio.

Simply Messing About in Boats

Varnish Varnish Varnish

Bacon and Eggs, Shoes and Socks, Sick and Tired, Wooden Boats and Varnish.  Much maligned for maintenance, but always appreciated - on someone else's boat.

Our obsession with varnish is simple: It looks so good.  Never mind it is impractical; never mind that it is fragile; never mind it doesn't protect the wood as well as paint and completely ignore the fact it requires slavish attention to maintenance. The fact is, it is beautiful. Period. Full Stop.

I admit it. I like it. For me, the look is worthy of the time to maintain. Adagio's builder thought so too as he gave her a generous share of it - above and below deck. Teak rail caps, cabin top handles, hatches, blocks, drawers, sampson post, doors and trim and all the spars are finished bright.

DECK TEAK

Main Hatch with Cetol Nat'l Teak

However, I'm not completely insane - at least not in this regard (I did, after all, buy a wooden boat). I have found that Cetol makes an excellent two-part product, "Cetol Natural Teak" that looks  almost as good as varnish (so close that most people can't tell the difference) and stands up to the elements far better than varnish. After three coats of the product you can top it off with a Cetol Natural Teak Gloss, if you are looking for the gloss of varnish. This top coat will give you additional (and stronger) UV protection than most varnishes and you do not have to sand in

Skylight Hatch

between coats making the overall job quicker.  Last, I have found it to be more forgiving than varnish - keeping you from being "chained to the oars" of your varnish. A maintenance coat of the gloss once a year (or even once every two) keeps it looking good.

Down below, Adagio  will get real varnish as it is away from the elements - or at least it better be.


SPARS

For the spars, I am trying something new (at least to me). Originally, these spars were finished bright with varnish. That's just not going to happen on my watch. However, I like the idea of a clear finish as it makes it easier to see what's going on with the wood.

A boatwright at the yard suggested LeTonkinois (pronounced La'tonk'in'wah). It is an organic "varnish" made from tung oil and linseed oil and God only knows what else, but it goes on like oil and will build up to a varnish-like finish. Best of all, it is not brittle like varnish, it moves with the wood and touch ups do not require building up the touched up section - it will blend in with the rest of the spar. There is no sanding between coats and it is unaffected by humidity.  Again, once you've laid down six coats, a maintenance coat once a year should be all that's needed.

Old dirty varnish on Boom and Gaff

3 Coats of LeTonkinois

The literature on this product also notes that it is not slippery when wet.

 

So, I have my own test lab going on here:For reasons I'll not bore you with, the bowsprit and the staysail club are varnished (Epiphanes); the mast, gaff, boom and sampson post are finished with LeTonkinois and the deck teak is done in Cetol Natural Teak.



We will see how each of these perform over time and report back, but for now they are ready for the elements.

Sources:
Trevethen, Jim, Wooden Boat Renovation, International Marine, Camden ME,1993

1904 Dictator model

Muscongus Bay Sloop - Roger Duncan

The Friendship Sloop began as a fishing sloop in the very late 1800's and into the new century before being replaced by the advent of power. In a story reminiscent of today, Maine fishermen found that, to keep their catch volume up, they were moving farther and farther from shore and their open dories were no longer up to the task. The need for a boat that could go farther offshore, provide a stable platform and a small cuddy gave way to the Muscongus Bay sloop and, shortly thereafter, a larger version which became the Friendship.

Friendship Sloop

One unique characteristic of the Friendships is they had many builders - built by the very men who used them to make their living.  Fishermen would build a sloop in the winter, fish her during the summer, then sell her and build another the next winter. Thus, there is no one set of hard specifications of what a Friendship must have to be a Friendship. According to the Friendship Sloop Society, these sloops varied in length from 21' to 50' with an average between 30' to 40'. That said, there are some commonalities among them. They all had elliptical sterns and a pronounced counter.  This way, nets dropped over the stern did not snag on the quarters or rudder. Additionally, most Friendships had a clipper bow, were gaff rigged and their beam is roughly one third of their length. The mast was equal to the length overall plus one half the draft.

"Success has many Fathers . . . "

While Friendships had many fathers, the names of a few builders loom large.  Of these, William Morse is probably the most commonly cited because of the sheer number of sloops that came off his ways. It is said that the name Friendship Sloop is due largely to the location of Morse's yard in Friendship, Maine.

For our purposes, however, the other prominent name in Friendship design is Robert McClain. In The Classic Boat, the editors of Time-Life state: "some marine historians consider [McClain] the originator of the Friendship Sloop."  One must be wary of what "some" experts say, but what is clear is that it is unclear exactly who is responsible for the design. The truth is, the Friendship was built for function by those that performed that function and refined to reflect the needs of the individual skipper. Ultimately, it's not important if there was (or wasn't) a definite "who." What's important is that there is still intense interest in this design more than 100 years after its introduction because what made it a good work boat, makes it, simply, a good boat.

While people can argue about who originated the design of the Friendship Sloop, there is no argument that Robert McClain designed and built Dictator. McClain was a shipwright who lived on an island in Muscongus Bay with his wife and son. I have heard the island was Bremen Island, but cannot confirm that. In 1904 he built two vessels - one he kept for himself, the second, Dictator, he sold to lobsterman, Stephen Grey. Over the next 20 years she would be sold to various other fishermen, finally winding up with Dr. Alan Chesney, a summer resident of Deer Isle. The Chesneys owned Dictator for the next 46 years.

Jarvis Newman

Dictator probably would have been lost to the Friendship world had it not been for Jarvis Newman. Newman, a builder of fiberglass boats in Southwest Harbor, found Dictator forlorn and neglected in Francis Williams's boatyard in Stonington. The portside garboard was missing and she had a significant hole in her starboard bow. Moreover, her decks and ceilings were rotten. Many of us are guilty of boat lust. It is what makes us buy boats and it is what allows us to sell them (because someone else has it too).  It seems that Newman had it in spades because he bought Dictator for $1,000 (about $5,800 in 2014).

The trip from Williams's boatyard in Stonington to Newman's in Southwest Harbor is the kind of story one expects from the Burt and I crowd and it is well told in Time-Life's The Classic Boat.  Rather than risk damaging the boat by a bumpy and uncertain overland trip, Newman decided to tow her by water. In November. With holes in her (temporary patches were made and canvas fothered under her bows, but still). To hedge his bets Newman added blocks of styrofoam under her cockpit deck to add buoyancy. She arrived. Just. And Newman hauled her out.

At this point, Newman brought on Ralph Stanley who had more experience in wooden craft. For anyone interested in the details of the restoration, I recommend the section about Dictator's restoration in The Classic Boat.

Dictator, circa 1920

However, I think it is fair to say that Jarvis Newman not only saved Dictator, the sloop, but created what we commonly think of today when we think of McClain's 1904 Dictator.


The early pictures of Dictator (of which there are precious few) show an almost flush-decked sloop. One does not see the cabin top with the pronounced arc that is common in the design today. Moreover, the cockpit is separate from the cabin hatchway which was likely more a hold for fish than a cabin.


Part of Newman's restoration was to create a boat suitable for family sailing which included a livable cabin instead of a fishhold.  Additionally, Newman upgraded the materials: Cedar on Oak, Spruce spars, Douglas Fir bowsprit and bronze fittings throughout - including a bronze billethead of an eagle.

Bronze billethead on "Liberty"

From his restoration of Dictator, Newman took her lines and created several fiberglass versions of her. In so doing, he "fixed" the specifications for this model of Friendship such that when one talks of a Friendship Sloop of the 1904 Dictator type, the dimensions and accommodations are well known.

The original Dictator still exists. The Friendship Sloop Society lists her home port as Deer Isle ME and she boasts sail number 2.

Jarvis Newman Dictator model (fiberglass)

Desiree is patterned on this model. In fact, she is a sister ship to Liberty built by Dick Salter and many of her bronze fittings were from Liberty's castings. As has been the case with Friendships from the beginning, Desiree's builder made some minor modifications to suit his use of the vessel. Specifically, Desiree's accomodations down below differ slightly from both Dictator's and Liberty's, but the length overall, her beam, draft and mast height are all standard Dictator. 

Sources:

1.)  The Classic Boat, Time-Life Books, 1977  pp.79-100
2.)  http://www.ralphstanleywoodenboats.com
3.)  Friendship Sloop Society www.fss.org
3.)  jarvisnewman.us
4.)  Richard Stanley and Wooden Boats: From Legacy to Beyond, Laurie Schreiber
      www.profilesmaine.com/marine/richard-stanley-and-wooden-boats-from-legacy-to-beyond
5.)  Dorothy Elizabeth, Building a Traditional Wooden Schooner, Roger Duncan
6.)  Friendship Sloops, by Roger Duncan http://byyb.org/gaffrig/200501/article%20roger%20duncan.htm

Reconstructing the Bow

Gammon Knee is under sprit

In an earlier post (Cabin Top Reconstruction), I noted that I had removed the gammon knee. The gammon knee is located right under the bowsprit and is what gives the Friendships the clipper-like bow.

The term "gammon" originally referred to lashings which secured the bowsprit to the stem head. In ships of yore, the lashings were made fast to the stem by means of a shackle (gammon shackle) that was secured to iron plate bolted to the stem (gammon plate). In later derivations, the gammon knee was used to secure these lashings around the bowsprit. The gammon knee is through-bolted to the stem.

On Friendships, the gammon knee is entirely ornamental - supporting nothing but the billet head (aka figurehead) and the trailboards.  The bowsprit on a Friendship is secured by the opposing forces of the fore, bob and whisker stays and the samson post.

Note delamination under chock

Starboard side

The reason for removing the knee was because of (more) delamination of fiberglass. As mentioned earlier, Desiree's cabin and deck were sheathed in fiberglass, but it appears to have been done with polyester resin, which, I've been told, does not create as lasting a bond as epoxy resin. At any rate, it came away from the knight heads under the forward chocks and separated from the deck on the port side. If you click on these photos, you'll see it better. 

Stem & Gammon Knee

It was also obvious that the stemhead had been abused by the elements over the years. As the stemhead is the end of a large oak member, it's end grain was open to the rain, snow and whatever. Thus, moisture moved down the stem creating some rot.   

Fortunately, even though water moved down the stem, it created it's own path out. In the photo to the left, you see what appear to be two cracks in the stem. The left "crack" is where the gammon knee is separating from the stem due to rot in the top of the stem (there is a lag bolt that secures the top of the knee and as the top of the stem rotted, it has given way). 

The crack on the right side of the stem (and lower) is, indeed a crack and seems to have shunted water out of the stem.  This was extremely fortunate as it limited the water damage to the upper section of the stem. This allowed us to scarf in a new section of the stem rather than a whole stem replacement. 

Rot in the knighthead

So, the only thing to do at this point was to start cutting away the delaminated glass back to good glass and see what we've got.  

Here's what we found. Underneath the rail cap on the starboard side, there was a significant seam of rot in the knighthead on the starboard side.   It was clear that it went below deck level and I had visions of finally finding the one thing that would make this a very long and expensive renovation. The real question now was, how far down does it go?

Moisture under top deck layer

Fiberglass peels right off

So, there was nothing else for it but to pull up the fiberglass and the deck underneath (note how the 'glass came up in one nice big sheet. Never use polyester resin is the lesson, I guess). After removing the first layer of decking (there are two layers of plywood), it was obvious there was moisture. 

What amazes me is this boat has been under cover since December of last year and water that seeped in before then is still there! The storal to the morey here is, once moisture gets in, it sits there until it causes rot. 

These two shots show the bow with a section of the deck gone and breasthook removed. The photo on the left shows that the rot on the starboard side only goes down to just below the top of the breasthook. The photo on the right shows the port side which looks pretty good. The through bolt in the picture comes through the stem and secures the breasthhook. 

As a minor note, the gammon knee is affixed to the stem with three screws, a long bolt going through the knee and stem and exiting inside the bow, and a lag bolt on top (starting at the stem and going outward toward the knee). The through bolt caused some concern because you cannot get at it from inside the vessel unless you remove the samson post (not for the faint of heart or weak of will, trust me on that). So, the fact I had to remove some decking was a help as the end of the through bolt is accessible just below the framing in the picture. 

So, we decided to cut the top of the knightheads off just below deck level and extend the breast hook and new decking out to the edge. 

Like So.

To finish it off, I will use another block of wood to act as a backing block to the railcap and the chocks on it.  I will cut back some more of the fiberglass deck, fair the edge and lay down new glass. Fair it, paint it, re do the non-skid areas, etc. 

Back to the Stem

Before we did all that, though, we scarfed in a new piece of the stem. I say "we" because I am indebted to Aaron Snyder, who is a shipwright currently engaged at our yard (although I did pay him, so I can't be that indebted. Anyway, he does good work). He did in 15 hours what it would have easily taken me ten times as long.

Mock up of stem scarf

Finished job

I also make a point about writing that the stem was redone before the deck was replaced. This was important for a number of reasons but only one was paramount. Because the through bolt for the gammon knee goes through the knee and the stem and you cannot reach the nut to secure if from down below, we had to leave the deck off until that operation was complete.

With the bow and the cabin top 95% complete, the only other major structural part of this project is the mast. For that, see my post Critters in the Mast. This leaves me with an extremely long list of cosmetic items, but cosmetic items are not hard, just time consuming. . . .

SOURCES:
1.  Encyclopedia of Nautical Terms
2. Nautical Dictionary, by Arthur Young & James Brisbane, Published 1863 Longman, Roberts & Green, London

The Friendship Sloop Burgee

ORIGIN OF THE DESIGN

Anyone familiar with Friendship Sloops is familiar with its burgee  However, less familiar is why it is adorned with what appears to be a vine of spade-like leaves - an odd symbol for a fishing sloop.  So, I wanted to know why the burgee sported this particular design, what leaf it was and why that leaf? 

What I found out was interesting: No one knows. 

There is nothing about the origin of the burgee in any of the Society's publications:  It's a Friendship, Enduring Friendships, and the most recent publication Lasting Friendships.

Here's what we do know: The Constitution of the Friendship Sloop Society (FSS) dictates: "The burgee of the Society shall be a pennant with the fly one an one-half times the hoist, consisting of a black leaf design on a white field with a red boarder." (Article VIII).

The Society's annual yearbook for 1967 comes a bit closer to the mark:

The leaf pattern on the pennant is derived from the original trailboards of the Friendship Sloops. So far as we can discover, all the Morse, McClains, Carters and other original builders, and even the present day builders have used this vine design on their trailboards . . . .

Carvings of vines or scrollwork on trailboards make sense. A trailboard is long and thin and lends itself to that sort of design. However, arabesques of vines on trailboards are not new - they predate Friendship Sloops by at least a century.

In his book Figureheads and Ship Carving, Michael Stammers writes,

[From the 1790's] the trailboards . . .took on an important role. It began carrying more carvings from the base of the figurehead to the main parts of the hull. This had the pleasing effect of visually integrating the figurehead with the rest of the hull. The usual motif was some kind of foliage such as laurels as a symbol of victory, oak leaves as a symbol of strength, acanthus and thistle as symbols of life, mortality and punishment or vine leaves with symbols of grapes as symbols of plenty. These leaf forms were frequently carved in Rococo style with C and S shapes, diverging leaves and elongated stems.

It is no secret that the clipper bow of the Friendship was patterned after the Gloucester fishing schooners that patterned their bows after clipper ships, etc. It follows then, that the makers of Friendships were simply adorning their trailboards with a design as had been done for years.

BUT A DESIGN OF WHAT?

Grape Leaf

Here is where the 1967 FSS yearbook fails us. Regarding the type of leaf/vine it notes:  "[M]uch research has not turned up the reason for the vine. Our delving into the use of this particular pattern has only served to produce a discussion as to whether this is a vine or grape leaf design, but nothing as to the origin."

Olive Leaf

In Roger Duncan's book, Friendship Sloops, he writes: "[E]arly in the [Friendship Sloop] Society's existence, a burgee was designed and distributed among members. It is a white pennant with a red border on which in black is the traditional olive leaf design used on the trail boards of Morse boats." (emphasis added)

Cherry Blossom

Last, in The Classic Boat, the editors at Time-Life chronicled the restoration of Dictator (see earlier post 1904 Dictator Model, 2/28/14). In it, they noted that, "the trailboards were carved by the wife of the builder, Robert McClain, their design an arabesque of red cherries, [which] was his trademark."

So, Olives? Grapes? or Cherries? Which is it?  That answer lies deep in still waters and is likely to remain there. However, the notion that there ever was an answer doesn't bear up when one considers the origin of the sloop and the conventions of the day.

First, with the exception of the Dictator model, this is not a one class design. There never was a defined set of specs for what makes a Friendship a Friendship. If the original builders didn't try to agree on overall dimensions and specs, it strains credibility that they would agree that all Friendships "shall have a vine of grapes (or whatever) adorning their trailboards." Second, these were fishing boats - not a lot of mucking about with ornate scroll work. Build 'em, Splash 'em, Fish 'em, Sell 'em.

It seems more likely that each builder did what they wanted to do - or maybe had their own signature design as Time-Life suggests of McClain.

Trailboard Design - Desiree

Ivy

What I can write is that the trailboard for Desiree appears to be ivy which, I warily point out, also appears to be the closest match to the burgee . 

And one internet source had this to say about the meaning of ivy:

The Celtic meaning of the ivy deals with connections and friendships because of its propensity to interweave in growth. Ever furrowing and intertwining, the ivy is an example of the twists and turns our friendships take - but also a testimony to the long-lasting connections and bonds we form with our friends that last over the years. 

Hmmmm, "Lasting Friendships."  What a good name for a book.
Buy yours today from fss.org

Notes:

1.  I am indebted to John Wojcik of the FSS for hunting down the references to the origin of the burgee design in the FSS publications. 

2. Lasting Friendships: A Century of Friendship Sloops, TBR Walsh & Ralph Stanley, Friendship Sloop Society (2014)

3. Friendship Sloops, Roger Duncan, International Marine (1985)

4. It's a Friendship, Herald Jones, Friendship Sloop Society (1965)

5. Friendship Sloop Society Annual Yearbook, Friendship Sloop Society (1967)

6. Figureheads and Ship Carvings, Michael Stammers, Naval Institute Press (2005)

7. The Classic Boat, Time-Life (1977)

8. www.celticradio.net