The Case of the Missing Keel
It was sometime the late ’90s, maybe 2000, but not really important to what happened on Great Pond in Belgrade, Maine.
Summertime and humid heat had finally arrived, and about every Mainer who owned a boat had hit the water wherever they could. Those would include everything from a tiny tin pram to an antique wooden speedboat and everything in between.
Oh, and let’s not forget the sailors, with their sails up and keels down, that is, whenever the wind decides to play fair. One particular sailboat, a 22′ Catalina sloop, was owned by friends John and Melissa Romac. It was berthed at their camp at Woodland on Long Point and was equipped with the normal basics, a jib and mainsail, rudder and keel.
The keel was called a swing keel, the kind that could be retracted up into the boat’s hull when not under sail or in shallow water, then let down with a cable on a winch when the winds heightened and water deepened. From time to time the keel would somehow get stuck and the sailor was unable to either retract or lower the huge keel. John had battled with it off and on, and one day his problem went away — literally! Here’s the story:
John’s sister, Lynn, came to camp with her two young children and took a nice sail. It was a day made for sailors — you know, plenty of wind to work with, but not over the top. It was the kind when a big old boat can move along at a nice pace of 5 or 6 knots, with wash from the hull making a lullaby lapping sound as it slaps the hull and passes by the stern. The kind that makes you smile in a subtle sort of way and appreciate your surroundings with the upmost respect.
Lynn was able to sail around Hoyt’s Island without getting becalmed on either end, then decided there was time to go around again as she cleared the north end and was pointed to Indian Island to keep some wind. Suddenly, all hell broke loose. As she was in a nice broad reach and the boat was heeled enough to be exhilarating, a strange twang came from the cabin, followed by a heavy thump under the hull. She managed to free the mainsheet with a quick grab and secondly pulled the jib sheet from the cam cleat. After the boat settled with a quick peek into the cabin she realized that the quarter inch stainless steel cable from the winch was laying limp. The 525 pound cast iron keel had somehow broken away from the swivel pin made into the hull and disappeared into the depths of Great Pond!
After much ado, being unable to make any headway with the keelless Catalina, Lynn decided not to ruin her children’s day. She opted to use the 7.5 horsepower kicker outboard motor and proceed to Crooked Island. There, she and her children used a rope swing and enjoyed the afternoon. After motoring slowly back to the camp dock as the sun lowered into the hills over Blueberry Hill, a quick swim with the mask and fins confirmed what she already knew: that the keel was gone. The big stainless swivel pin was still in place. It was apparent that the cast iron had broken away where it swiveled on the pin.
That evening, with the family gathered back at camp, she told the story. John, an ex-Navy pilot, was not shaken by the loss, as his mind instantly went to thinking that it could be found and retrieved. After all, only two falls ago the very same 7.5 horsepower Johnson outboard that now powered the sailboat had fallen off his son’s skiff late in the season. After it wintered on the bottom of Great Pond, John was able to find and retrieve it the next summer. Finding something as big as a 525-pound keel should be a piece of cake.
It was not to be. After persistently scouring the lake bottom in the general area described by Lynn, including widening the radius of search by divers, the keel was never found. John was not a man to give up easily, but with a final resignation gave up the search. His courage was dented but not exhausted and he made a new keel out of steel plate to replace to cast iron keel, though not completely successful. Somewhere, not known to man, there is a 525-pound keel on the bottom of Great Pond in Belgrade. A true story!!
Author’s Note: Having just called John to get an O.K. to print this, he reports that the 7.5 outboard is still running today. Never give up the ship! Carry on mates!
Rod Johnson, a.k.a. “The Luckiest Boy,” is a member of the Belgrade Historical Society.
Download Full Newspaper: High Res | Low Res (Details…)
<— Previous Article • Summaries • Next Article —>
©2025 by Summertime in the Belgrades. All rights reserved.