From The [Philadelphia] Sunday Bulletin, April 12, 1959

Better Boating by Carl Sheppard

“Adams is indeed a rarity in these times of confused values. For one thing, he builds a boat that looks like a boat. For another, he won’t trade one iota of his customary loving workmanship for all the profits of mass output. The elsewhere “almighty dollar” has no more power over Adams’ two-boat production line than over Shelley’s muse, da Vinci’s brush. Boat building is Adams’ life, and he does it to a single standard - perfection.

Assisted only by his son, Alvin, Adams proceeds at a speed commensurate with artistry to compose symphonies in cedar, oak, teak and mahogany. His pace leaves customers tearing their hair, but their reward is a creation of graceful strength and matchless performance.

As far back as the Prohibition era, Adams’ fame had reached the rum runners, who came to him seeking the first big lapstrake seaskiffs which wouldn’t leak despite the pounding they suffered at blazing speeds through moonlit Jersey inlets.

In the years since then dozens of charter skippers, whose 30 and 40-footers must stand a year-round offshore grind, and scores of yachtsmen hunting the ultimate in strength and handling ease, have seen their dreams take shape under Adams’ magic touch.

Each craft must be a masterpiece of her type before the big doors at the rear of the plant are pushed back and she slides down the ways into the placid Nacote, to add one more member to the charmed circle of skippers who will never be quite happy without an Adams boat.

You might think this would be a proud moment for Adams, too, but it’s really a sad one. I well recall the August afternoon in 1947 when my first Adams sport fisherman lay beside the Nacote’s grassy bank, while the finishing touches were applied to her graceful sideshields. Compared with this greyhound, all other 25 footers I had ever seen faded into insignificance.

I could hardly wait to put her through the paces, but Adams was reluctant to let her go. He kept pottering about, finding things to do to her. Finally, when the parting could be put off no longer, he confesses that every time a boat left his shop it was like losing a member of his family. He leafed through an album of his boats, including a blank page for the new “member.”

It was quite a “family.” Included were many of the best known charter craft along the coast, some of which I had fished from myself in the years past. All were still going strong, and most of them are today, too, like those old soldiers who never die. It takes a lot to kill an Adams boat.”

Carl Sheppard, Boating Editor
The [Philadelphia] Sunday Bulletin 1959

From The [Philadelphia] Sunday Bulletin, April 12, 1959

Better Boating by Carl Sheppard

“Adams is indeed a rarity in these times of confused values. For one thing, he builds a boat that looks like a boat. For another, he won’t trade one iota of his customary loving workmanship for all the profits of mass output. The elsewhere “almighty dollar” has no more power over Adams’ two-boat production line than over Shelley’s muse, da Vinci’s brush. Boat building is Adams’ life, and he does it to a single standard - perfection.

Assisted only by his son, Alvin, Adams proceeds at a speed commensurate with artistry to compose symphonies in cedar, oak, teak and mahogany. His pace leaves customers tearing their hair, but their reward is a creation of graceful strength and matchless performance.

As far back as the Prohibition era, Adams’ fame had reached the rum runners, who came to him seeking the first big lapstrake seaskiffs which wouldn’t leak despite the pounding they suffered at blazing speeds through moonlit Jersey inlets.

In the years since then dozens of charter skippers, whose 30 and 40-footers must stand a year-round offshore grind, and scores of yachtsmen hunting the ultimate in strength and handling ease, have seen their dreams take shape under Adams’ magic touch.

Each craft must be a masterpiece of her type before the big doors at the rear of the plant are pushed back and she slides down the ways into the placid Nacote, to add one more member to the charmed circle of skippers who will never be quite happy without an Adams boat.

You might think this would be a proud moment for Adams, too, but it’s really a sad one. I well recall the August afternoon in 1947 when my first Adams sport fisherman lay beside the Nacote’s grassy bank, while the finishing touches were applied to her graceful sideshields. Compared with this greyhound, all other 25 footers I had ever seen faded into insignificance.

I could hardly wait to put her through the paces, but Adams was reluctant to let her go. He kept pottering about, finding things to do to her. Finally, when the parting could be put off no longer, he confesses that every time a boat left his shop it was like losing a member of his family. He leafed through an album of his boats, including a blank page for the new “member.”

It was quite a “family.” Included were many of the best known charter craft along the coast, some of which I had fished from myself in the years past. All were still going strong, and most of them are today, too, like those old soldiers who never die. It takes a lot to kill an Adams boat.”

Carl Sheppard, Boating Editor
The [Philadelphia] Sunday Bulletin 1959