Meet the Boss
In the modern world of laminates and foils, Carol Hasse and Port Townsend Sails spin gold by sticking to traditional methods of construction and paying attention to the little things that help sails withstand the tests of time. From our June 2012 issue.
Recently, my wife, Diana, and I were anchored at Savai’i, an island in Samoa. Next to us swung Jenny P. III, a Hans Christian 33, the cruising home of a lovely family from Seattle. The boat was well equipped, well maintained and, albeit small, a responsible cruising vessel for taking Eric and Christine Larsen and their three young children safely across the Pacific Ocean.
Eric told me that when he was outfitting the boat, knowing that his kids would be on board, whenever he came across a decision that he felt in any way affected the safety of the vessel, he always chose the very best equipment available, regardless of cost.
I asked him what kind of sails he had. In a tone that implied that the choice went without saying, he said, “Carol Hasse sails.”
Technically, they’re Hasse and Company Port Townsend Sails, the company that Hasse (pronounced HA-see) founded and owns. But Eric Larsen can’t be faulted, because in this case, it’s hard to separate the sails from the sailmaker. Hasse’s work directly reflects her overall philosophy of life, and over her 35-year career as a sailor, sailmaker, teacher, and mentor, that philosophy has had a profound impact on the Pacific Northwest sailing community in general and Port Townsend, Washington, in particular.
Hasse is a founding member of the famous Wooden Boat Festival, Port Townsend’s signature annual event that’s now in its 36th year, a past board member of the Northwest School of Wooden Boat Building, a board member of the Northwest Maritime Center and the Wooden Boat Foundation, a three-time judge for Cruising World’s Boat of the Year contest, a judge at the Victoria Classic Boat Festival, a nationally known seminar speaker, a volunteer on the sail-training vessels Alaska Eagle and Adventuress, and involved in too many other sailing and civic events to list here. She’s a perpetual-motion machine, a goodwill ambassador for anything that floats, an energetic activist and organizer, and a selfless volunteer.
It was this body of work that drew my interest and compelled me to sit Hasse down for two solid hours—no easy task, but I brought a rope—to record and report on her life of adventure and service.
As Fate Would Have It
Sailing would’ve missed out on one of its true luminaries had Hasse followed her obvious path in life. The oldest of four children, she grew up on the Columbia River Gorge in eastern Washington. Because of her early interest in social service and obvious academic acumen (she was awarded the coveted National Merit Scholar status), she and her entire family assumed that she was on her way to medical school via the University of Puget Sound.
But she also showed strong talents in athletics and an abiding interest in the outdoors. She bridled at the notion that she was incapable of accomplishing any outdoor feat simply because she was a girl, and she set her sights on hiking the Pacific Crest Trail and climbing 14,409-foot Mount Rainier. She knocked them both off with her customary determination.
She entered university at the height of the Vietnam War and was carried away on the ambient wave of radical idealism. She embraced pacifism, civil protest, vegetarianism, and such esoteric studies as Sufi dancing. Many did. The difference with Hasse was that she wasn’t following a fashion or bending to peer pressure; she was shaping a world outlook that defines her life to this day.
One year of classroom restraint was all she could take. She set off to hitchhike across the world on an adventure that took her from the tame art galleries of Europe to the lawless lands of Iraq and Syria.
When she finally returned home, she’d become an inveterate traveler, and although she re-entered college, she knew that she’d never be able to settle down into a conventional life.
Serendipity intervened in the form of an invitation to join friends of her family on board a Cascade 42 for an extended cruise in Mexican waters. She walked out of the classroom, down the dock, and hasn’t looked back since.
If her first dive into pristine tropical waters didn’t seal her fate, then her first moonlit night watch did. On that ocean, she found the heady freedom and the physical, intellectual, and spiritual challenges for which she longed.
As her host’s voyage neared an end, Hasse met some young sailors from another vessel. They were hoping to head for the Pacific Islands but had doubts as to their ability to celestial navigate. Confident, bright, and quick to learn, Hasse signed on as navigator. It was a proud moment when the Hawai’ian Islands appeared over the horizon exactly when and where she’d calculated.
One boat led to another. She’s sailed on Chinese junks, monohulls, and multihulls ranging from 25 to 101 feet and made from wood, steel, fiberglass, and ferro-cement. The boats and crews may have varied, but the central theme didn’t: her love of the sea and grand adventure.
As her exposure to sailboats increased, so, too, did her fascination with their design and construction. She determined that she wanted to become a wooden-boat builder, as she had an affinity for the material and an inclination toward the traditional. She fell into a communal schooner-building project in California, where she was handed the responsibility of making the sails.
She set off to meet Franz Schattauer, a master sailmaker in the old-world tradition. Schattauer taught Hasse sailmaking from the ground up: old-fashioned splicing, hand-sewn grommets, bulletproof reinforcing, leather finishing. He was a guildsman, and he’d abide no shortcuts. There would be nine stitches per needle length. Not eight, which is weak. Not 10, which unnecessarily perforates the fabric.
Hasse then went to work for Ron Harrow, who owned the only sail loft in Port Townsend. Here she made the sails for her communal schooner project and others. Although her interest in wooden boats didn’t wane, she discovered that the sailmaking segment of the industry was cleaner, quieter, and got her out on the water a lot more often than boatbuilding did. Also, she grew tired of the confusion inherent to communal projects, and she vowed that one day she’d own her own loft and her own boat.
When Harrow decided to take off, leaving the loft empty, Hasse thought, “Now’s my chance.” She sold her shares in the schooner and in 1978, with her friend, Nora Petrich, established Port Townsend Sails. It was a humble start. Initially, they had but a single sewing machine. For two and a half years, Hasse slept under the cutting table. But a loan of $5,000 allowed them to add machinery and hire two more employees. She eventually bought out Petrich’s share and became the sole proprietor of her own business.