A New LifeWhen engineer Finbarr Duggan decided he wanted to do more than paddle his own canoe, it led to a future in making wooden baths, writes Sue Leonard
It took a couple of years working as an engineer for Wicklow man Finbarr Duggan to decide it wasn't for him. After graduating with a Masters from Trinity College Dublin and a little travel, he found a job in a large engineering office in Australia. But he found the work in his chosen career frustrating.
"I was there for two years as the junior consultant - there were several senior consultants, so I was basically the 'junior desk boy'," he says. "The company was involved in pure engineering - mainly in large bridge design. And it just didn't suit me."
Finbarr then read up on computers; he studied, dragging books around with him while he toured Asia. And, on his return to Ireland, he began working in computing, where he did well for seven years, before the company was sold, and he was offered redundancy.
It was brilliant timing for Finbarr, who was already hatching other plans.
"By this stage I was ready for a change," he says. And what a change. In a dramatic turnaround, Finbarr began designing, making and selling wooden baths.
"I've always loved wood," he says. "My father was a forester. I lived at Avondale - Parnell's estate in Rathdrum - until I was three. My father was forester there. I remember a deer called Bambi. I thought it was mine."
Then the family moved to Bray and Finbarr's father looked after the forests around Enniskerry and Glencree.
"Mum died when I was young, and when I was little, Dad used to take us up to the forest."
Finbarr wasn't initially into woodwork, but later he became a fanatical sea kayaker.
"I bought one of those folding kayaks, but when I was down in Kerry one day I met a Dutchman who had a fantastic wooden kayak. He gave me a contact number, and I bought the design from an American over the internet."
"I followed his plans - built a fantastic kayak, and made some for friends, too. And while I was doing that, I was working on the bathroom in Bray. I made a wooden sink and wanted to try a wooden bath too, but Áine, my girlfriend, now wife, wouldn't let me."
So, after another venture stalled, he made some prototypes using the same basic methods that worked with the kayaks, and experimented with different coatings until he found an ideal combination.
Then he set up a website and the orders began to come in.
"There has been a big move in recent years to natural materials in bathrooms," says Finbarr. "And with modern coatings wood can last a lifetime. Who wants to relax in a white clinical bath if they can use a wooden one? It feels smooth, it looks nice, and each one is individually hand-made in the wood of your choice."
"You can have one to fit any shape bathroom; you can have an extra long one if you're tall; you can have two backrests or one; and you can have a Japanese bath - which is huge in the UK - where you shower first and then relax by squatting in scalding water with salts."
As well as taking private orders, Finbarr works with designers and architects. He's currently working with top British architect Norman Foster on a prototype for a hotel.
The only maker of wooden baths in Europe, life is busy for Finbarr. "If we've got a lot of orders in I'll work in the shed in Glencree from 9.15pm until about 7pm - I have people helping me - And if not I'll be working on designs or updating the computer."
"I've no regrets. Engineering was good, but very regimented. Now I'm able to use my brain and use my hands. And its nice to have used my old skills in this new venture. Engineering is useful when I'm drawing the designs, and computer skills allowed me to design the site."
"I love what I make. Every time I finish a bath I think, 'I made that'! Every one is different, so you don't know how it will look until you are finished. And it's nice that everything I make gets used."
The day we meet in Bray, Finbarr is exhausted. He's had only four hours sleep in the previous two nights. That's because of yet another "new life" in the form of his first son, Luca, aged 11 days.
"I'm helping Áine with the baby," he says with a yawn. "She has been a huge support to me through all the years. The last 11 days have been fantastic, but people don't tell you about the sleep deprivation. It's a conspiracy. They say nothing, then when the baby arrives they laugh at you. The whole thing has been an eye opener."
www.driftwood.ie