He was dying to live out an adventure.
Stuck in a cubicle for 17 years—a database administrator in oil and gas—Doug Jackson, 62, risked everything to try something that “terrified” him by building his own submarine in 2000. But it so happened, this was just the beginning of his ocean adventures. Today, Jackson has stepped up his game.
The ultimate DIY, his new 74-foot junk-style boat, SV Seeker, embarked on her maiden voyage last year and in March finally reached her 10-years-in-the-making destination: the Gulf of Mexico where Jackson will live out his days. “I wanted to do something that scared me,” he told The Epoch Times. “I wanted to do something with my life, rather than just die in my cubicle. I wanted to get out and have an adventure.”
The saga of Seeker is epic. She started on a parcel of land near Jackson’s office in Tulsa. With a steelyard next door and a scrapyard across town, materials were handy. He would have sufficient space for a cradle, crane, and tons and tons of construction materials.
Logging his maritime exploit on YouTube, Jackson attracted kindred spirits from across the globe. Many trekked to volunteer as they wanted to be “a part of something.” Over the years, he’s hosted over 400 volunteers from all walks of life—from welders, to oil tanker chief engineers, to ex-military. Jackson formed lifelong friendships with the likes of Vietnam veteran Bart Robinson and found help from Francis the hobo, who roams the country by rail and makes things merry with his music.
Not to be overshadowed, Jackson’s loyal internet following assisted in his quest to scavenge for the right parts, offering key tips. Thus, Seeker was dubbed “The Boat the Internet Built.” “This boat’s about taking risks and doing something you haven’t done before—trying something new,” Jackson said, adding that she is “built like no other boat in the world.”
Experts online guided Jackson to the Cummins 59 engine he found in an old school bus he bought. He saved tens of thousands of dollars simply by tinkering with scraps, casting his own propellers, and sourcing the right know-how. Built like a tank, Seeker’s hull is fashioned from quarter-inch plate steel, her bottom keel of one-inch plate, and is practically indestructible. Her sails are of heavy-duty canvas, about five times the weight of your usual set.
Artistic talent was also incorporated into the design, including a beauty figurehead mounted on the bow, a dragon crafted out of polymer, and maritime motifs on the helm and throughout the ship.
“We’re much more farm tech than rolling out a sheet of blueprints with specification,“ he said. ”Most of this boat wasn’t even on paper and never went on paper when we started building it.”
Several years into construction, on nearing completion, Jackson cut ties by quitting his job and selling his property in Oklahoma—he would now call Seeker his home.
A dozen-plus years on, it turns out construction wasn’t the biggest challenge. Launching was harder, as Jackson needed $15 million in insurance before casting off into Tulsa’s Port of Catoosa. It took “a lot of jumping through hoops,” he said. “I actually sold half the boat to a friend of mine who had insurance, who was captain and I got it.” After seven months, Seeker finally set sail on her maiden voyage.
And she proved seaworthy. Though slightly heavy in the stern, she travels at six knots—about as fast as a sailboat. Onboard, Jackson and crew enjoy all the amenities of home. Should he store dry goods, he could last a month at sea. The ship holds 600 gallons of fresh water and 1,000 gallons of fuel for long voyages. Making his way down Verdigris River into the Arkansas, and from there down the Mississippi to Pensacola Bay, one year and 1,200 miles later, Jackson found himself just a right-hand turn from the balmy Gulf of Mexico.
Huge exhale.
What’s next on the horizon for Seeker? And Jackson’s epic saga? God willing, she will be a free charter for scientific instrumentation and researchers collecting jellyfish or seabed samples—or whatever. “I'll be happy to take the boat wherever they need to go and let them live onboard for two months and watch the birds,” he said. “It’s just a continuation of a cool way to learn with people that are really invested in what they do for their living.
“That could be oceanography or archaeology or even wreck hunting. I just don’t want to be bored.”