The Whiskey Plank, Release-Style: How Tradition Still Shapes Modern Boatbuilding

By Jim Turner | Release Boatworks Blog

At Release Boatworks, the moment a hull leaves its mold isn’t just production — it’s ritual. Discover how a centuries-old shipyard tradition still defines modern boatbuilding in South Jersey.

A Tradition Born in Sawdust and Salt

In the old wooden yards, shipwrights knew the exact moment a vessel took its first breath. It wasn’t when the keel was laid or when the masts were stepped. It was when the whiskey plank — the final board sealing the hull — was fastened in place.

That day, everything stopped. Hammers fell silent, sawdust hung in the air, and someone uncorked a bottle. Owners and builders raised a glass, knowing they’d crossed the line between a pile of parts and something with a soul. Some said a bit of every man who built her went into that last plank. That’s why they called it the Whiskey Plank.

“Some said a bit of every man who built her went into that last plank.”

From the Vikings pouring mead to New England schooner builders spilling rum, the ritual carried through centuries. It marked not just the completion of a ship — but the birth of one.

A Modern Ritual for Modern Boats

We don’t fasten planks anymore. Our boats aren’t oak and cut nails — they’re vacuum-infused composites made of glass, resin, and precision. But the heartbeat moment of a Release Boatworks build still comes the same way: when a hull leaves its mold for the first time.

Ask anyone who’s stood in the shop on infusion day — when the vacuum hums and resin runs — the tension in the air is electric. Months of work, every layer of cloth and core placed perfectly, all leading to one pull of the trigger. You watch the resin chase the vacuum through the hull, filling every fiber like a living tide.

“When it’s done right, the hull locks together like steel. That’s the moment she stops being a mold and starts becoming a boat.”

From there, we drop in the pre-infused structural bulkheads — each one bonding strength and shape into her bones. Once those are in, it’s time. The bolts come out. The hoists connect. The crew gathers. And then it happens — that soft creak, that sigh — the moment she lets go of the mold.

Light hits her for the first time. Someone whistles low. Everyone feels it in their chest. The work has turned into life. That’s when we stop and pour a round. That’s our Whiskey Plank moment.

From that day forward, we mark every successful de-molding with the same ritual. The hull crew signs their names on a Whiskey Plank Certificate — proof that they stood shoulder to shoulder and gave life to a hull.

Each certificate is framed and given to the boat’s owner, so they know their vessel carries not just fiberglass and resin, but the pride of every man who built her. Another copy hangs in our lobby — a growing wall of names, a wall of legacy.

“Every builder worth his salt has his rituals. This one’s ours.”

Why We Still Raise a Glass

Some might say ritual has no place in modern manufacturing — that computers, sensors, and spreadsheets have replaced moments like these. But the ocean doesn’t care about algorithms.

What keeps a boat safe offshore isn’t just engineering — it’s intention.

“A hull isn’t just geometry and chemistry; it’s responsibility made physical.”

Ritual reminds us that our work carries meaning beyond the paycheck. One day, a family will cross the Gulf Stream inside it. A captain will push through a squall trusting that every layup, every bolt, and every line will hold. That faith begins here, on the shop floor.

When the vacuum hums, no one’s on their phone. The shop goes quiet except for the pumps and the soft murmur of ‘flow’s good on port.’ We watch. We wait. And when the resin finishes chasing the lines, we all exhale together.

That’s when a Release gets its soul.

A Release isn’t born the day she splashes. She’s born on infusion day — when science meets soul, and craftsmanship becomes art.

In a world chasing automation and instant gratification, stopping to honor a moment still matters. Because boats — real boats — aren’t just products. They’re heirlooms built to fight offshore and turn heads at the dock.

Each one carries the fingerprints of the men who built her, the whiskey toast that christened her, and the legacy of every craftsman who ever cared enough to pause and raise a glass.

So when the next hull comes free from the mold and the air fills with that familiar scent of resin and oak-aged whiskey, we’ll gather again. We’ll sign the certificate, pour a round, and stand in silence for a second longer than we need to.

Because some traditions are too good to let die.

Raise a glass with us — the old ways aren’t gone.
We’ve just given them new life.

Ready to see how we build them? Visit our Egg Harbor City yard or explore current builds at releaseboatworks.com.