Paul Rollins Jr. picks up a drill and crouches into a series of dizzying wooden beams spanning the boat from port to starboard. His green fleecy hat is awkwardly propped upon his brow, hinting at his playful side off the job. But today it's all work in the old York barn.

The 21-year-old drills in the shadow of a man with a familiar unyielding focus sporting an identical hat, except in blue and worn straight on his head, down over his ears.

Watching over Rollins Jr.'s shoulder approvingly, the man removes a piece of white oak from a long PVC pipe attached to a mini wood stove, known to wooden boat builders as a steam box.

When the pressurized steam reaches 200 degrees, the man leans his weight into the wood with skillful grace. It bends with ease.

"You've got to do it fast before it cools down and snaps," the man instructs.

Then he hands Rollins Jr. the wood beam and begins to explain how 30 years ago he was the one picking up the drill for the first time, and in that very same barn.

Back then, he recalls finishing aÊ10-hour workday and walking up the barn stairs straight into his apartment.Ê

Now, to go home, he simply walks across the driveway, while it's Rollins Jr. who heads up the stairs at the end of the day.

That man and Rollins Jr. share lifestyles, work ethics, mannerisms and genes. Heck, they even share the same name Ð the man casting the long shadow is Paul Rollins Sr.

But there's no telling how long the two will be in the same boat.

That's really up to Rollins Jr.

Rollins Sr., 54, is a first-generation owner of the Paul Rollins Boat Shop. The shop is Rollins Jr.'s Ð if he wants it. That's the big question.

The father first entered the wooden boat building business when he was Rollins Jr.'s age for the pure love of it.

"I'm still learning about boat building today; I never really stopped," says Rollins Sr.

He also never forgot the golden rule to success in the industry.

"The third generation in the business actually starts to make money," he says.

Much like his father as a 20-something, Rollins Jr. is trying his hand at the Maine time-honored craft of wooden boat building.

Rollins Sr. can only hope by the time his son has completed his first wooden boat, their current project, he'll assume his reign as the second-generation owner of the shop.

"If I don't take over, at some point my dad will just have to scale down the business," says Rollins Jr.

They both know the most substantial difference between them exists in their heart of hearts. "He surfs, he sails with his girlfriend, now he's even getting his license to operate commercial charter boats," said Rollins Sr. of his son. "But he grew up in the shop watching me work hard, long hours, and it sort of drove him away from the industry."

What finally landed Rollins Jr. in the workshop for the first time was the rare opportunity to build his first boat from start to finish, a 56-foot schooner presented to him by his father last July. This time he finally said OK. When complete in about a year from now, the boat will be picked up by the Mississippi client and sailed around the world.

For now, it's about a third complete, nearly filling the barn across the driveway from the house Rollins Jr. grew up in Ð below the apartment he lives in now.

While Rollins Sr. looks on, his son lays down one last steaming hot white oak plank to complete the boat's frame. They chose white oak (which is indigenous to Maine though no longer plentiful) because it's sturdy, and shock- and rot-resistant.

Rollins Jr. switches up the drill bit, gives it an aim, and buries it into a knot in the wood.

"He's been trying to drag me into the business forever. Now I realize how much my dad has put into doing this every day," Rollins Jr. says, choosing his words carefully. "There is so much more to it than I thought."

The knots run deep, like Rollins Sr.'s 30-year knowledge of the wooden boat building business. Rollins Sr. calls the industry tiny, compared to what it used to be. But today, an appreciation for wooden boat building has resurfaced, despite the popularity of more commonly used materials like iron and fiberglass. Though small, it's still strong in Maine, relative to other states. The Rollins Boat Shop's only hope for survival is a second- then third-generation apprentice.

Rollins Jr. drills in the final screw and the framework is complete. Without celebration, they pause and move onto the next task of planking. Silently, they work side-by-side, yet separately.

"It has its moments, I guess. But I don't love it the way he does," Rollins quietly admits.