John Gregg first learned of John Steinbeck and Ed Ricketts in 1970, when he was 10 years old and read the 1941 book Sea of Cortez: A Leisurely Journal of Travel and Research.
A lifelong connection to the two men—and the spirit they embodied—was born.
“I lived in rural Georgia at the time of the Apollo launch,” Gregg says. “The type of people in the news were scientists and explorers, that was who we wanted to be in the ’60s. Those were the people we wanted to be like—scientists and adventurers.”
Gregg, a Southern California-based geologist, chose the former, but he’s got a little adventure in him yet: Just a few weeks ago he bought the Western Flyer, the famed purse seiner from the Sea of Cortez voyage, for $1 million from developer Gerry Kehoe, who had planned to cut it in pieces and display it in Salinas.
“I don’t really want the boat to do sunset cruises with champagne and crackers,” he says.
“I want to hook up with [MBARI or the Aquarium]. I’d like it to recreate the original voyage.”
Not only does Gregg want the Flyer to like to reenact the famous voyage to the Sea of Cortez, he’s also interested in putting together a trip to Alaska’s Aleutian Islands, which Steinbeck and Ricketts had been planning for years.
That dream died with Ricketts, when he passed in 1948.
It’s the spirit of Ricketts that informs Gregg’s vision for the Flyer, who is focused more than anything on transforming it into a floating classroom that might inspire future stewards.
“There’s a difference of opinion about when the environmental movement started,” he says. “Some say it was with Rachel Carson and Silent Spring, but a lot of people believe it was Ed Ricketts and the Sea of Cortez.”
It was Ricketts that inspired Gregg, and he’s hoping to pay it forward.
“One out of 10 kids that gets on there is going to be bitten by the bug,” he says. “Every time you bring a trap up from the deep you don’t know what’s going to be in it. It’s really exciting.”
For those curious as to how the Flyer’s held up over the years, especially given that it was built in 1937 and sank twice in recent years, Gregg also has good news: a marine surveyor he hired gave it a thumbs up.
“He was fairly impressed with the stability of the hull itself. The bones are still good,” he says. “Boats like that, when they’re old, they kind of sag, but this one wasn’t like that. It had the same lines it always did. It looks like it’s going to be possible to fix with minimum disruption.”
Other findings also brought relief.
“I was afraid in the ’70s they’d ripped everything out and put in formica, but it still has the original wainscoting and galley table.”
As for what chance the public will have to view the Flyer after it's restored, a process Gregg estimates will take a few years, he says when it’s not being used as a floating classroom he’d like to have it open in Monterey.
“I think it’ll probably be available for people to look at when it's not doing educational things,” he says. “The more people that can see it the better.”
Originally, Gregg had planned to keep the boat at Moss Landing Harbor, where his company Gregg Drilling has a dock, but after the groundswell of local interest since he bought the Flyer, he’s now thinking Monterey will be the boat’s home.
But a lot has to happen before that dream is realized, mainly, restoring the boat to peak condition. To do that, Gregg has to raise money, as he envisions the retrofit will cost around $2 million or more. And he also might have to wait awhile.
“The timber only dries out at about an inch per year. If I can’t find the right sized spruce or fir, I have to wait it out. There are things out of my control.”
But Gregg is not exactly in a hurry, his focus is getting things done right.
“I’m not doing this as a money making thing, it’s never been about that,” he says. “I’m a geologist, I’m not an investor. I don’t speculate in anything. I stick close to the ground and drill holes.”
For Gregg, purchasing the Flyer is motivated purely by a desire to preserve history, and a legacy.
“It seemed obvious if you have the opportunity to save something iconic, it's not really a choice, it’s an honor,” he says. “I wonder why somebody else didn’t step forward. It seems like it was an obvious thing to buy the boat.”
And if there’s one thing that speaks to just how good of hands the Flyer has landed into, it’s in the motto Gregg adopted after he bought it: “As it was, where it was,” which was borrowed from the motto in rebuilding a tower in Venice, Italy, after it fell in 1908.
“I have a stewardship of it, to keep it in the best shape I can for the next generation," he says. "You can’t really own something like this.”