IT WAS JUST OVER EIGHT YEARS since we first saw her. In fact it was eight years, nineteen days and a handful of hours since she became ours. Jeffrey stood in the doorway of the pilothouse. “Ready for the bowline,” he said with a grin.

My stomach was nervous with excitement and apprehension while I waited for Jeffrey to say those words. The David B, was heading back to Alaska for the first time since she was launched in 1929. Only this time we were taking her to Juneau to carry passengers.

I looked at the collection of old men who had been drawn to the David B while she waited to get underway. It was the sound of the boat’s antique engine that brought them here. It happens every time. “Ka-Pow!” The ancient engine starts. “Ching-ching-ching… Ching-ching-ching.” It begins its mechanical waltz, then a few smoke-rings rise from the stack, and poof — old men seem to spontaneously generate out of thin air. Most days when they come, they come armed with questions about cylinders, injectors, stroke and bore, gears, RPM and horsepower. More often when they come it’s to reminisce about their youth.

“How many cylinders ya got there?” one of the men asked Jeffrey as he walked up.

“Three cylinders, with a gear.” Jeffrey smiled from his perch in the pilothouse. The David B’s reverse gear is always a surprise to the old timers who grew up with engines that could not go into reverse without first shutting down.

Jeffrey continued to answer questions while Sean and I worked together to untie the lines holding the David B to the dock.

‘Excuse me,” I said to the man who had now parked himself in front of the boarding gate. He moved out of the way and continued to ask Jeffrey about the boat’s engine.

Aaron, our engineer and business partner, was standing on the back deck with a fender. He looked up at the stack and noted the color of the smoke. He was nervous, but stood leaning suavely on his fender, looking good in his sunglasses, Bowling Green University Ski-Team sweatshirt