Nothing Private

When I started sanding on that old dilapidated wooden boat I'd just purchased, I had no Idea how wrapped up I become with the words penciled into that old journal. I'd found the journal beneath the side seat. Every sanding of Mahogany and every turn of wrench that made me want to apply another layer of paint to that beautiful June heap in my barn had me wondering...
Who the heck is private Henny?