Rule Three: Living Your Boating Lifestyle

Now that we have a breather from hurricanes. Let's get back to "Rules". I know your captain is getting anxious to get out there and buy a boat but there are a few more things to discuss.
One of them is what kind of lifestyle do you envision if you decide to take the plunge.

Just as you don’t spend all of your time in your house on the land you won’t spend all your time on your boat. What environmental conveniences or entertainment do you think will be necessary for your happiness and well-being on a boat? The standard (dirt-dweller’s) impression of cruising is sailing from one isolated paradise-like anchorage to another, spending everyday frolicking in the sand and water. Truthfully, there are many boaters that pull into a dock, plug in the electrical cord and don’t leave for months. They meet regularly for bridge games and drinks. They play tennis. They form yacht clubs. There is a myriad of lifestyles to choose from. Some are more expensive than others but inexpensive doesn’t necessarily mean deprived. One of the basic lifestyle decisions is where you want to cruise. Does he dream of Arctic endurance trials while you’re dreaming of tropical indulgence? Are you on the same time table for your cruise. Does he want to push on to a new port every night getting to some unnamed destination while you want to spend time enough to get to know the locals and maybe even become one? Do you require a daily hot shower, coiffed hair and manicured nails? While many hard scrabble cruisers may scoff at these needs, if they are important to you you’d better let it be known. Believe me there are well groomed people out here too, author not included, so it can be done but once again you have to plan for it by choosing a boat that can supply the electrical and water capacity necessary, or a dock and location that provides the necessary services. Do you live for golf or tennis or whatever? Once again it can be done but make sure you cruise where these things are available. These are just a few of the lifestyle questions that need answered because it will influence what kind of boat you buy. It will also influence the cruising kitty needed to live the lifestyle that is acceptable to you. It's better to make your needs known now before you end up with a boat that cannot provide them or a budget that won't support them. And remember...you can compromise but do not cave in.

As always, I'd love to hear from other First Mates or First Mate Wanna Be's on this topic. Please!
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Have Fun!

Fender Dockline Shuffle: Docking the boat

The cap'n said to lighten things up a little:
Nobody told me that when we bought a boat I was supposed to magically transform into some kind of superwoman. You know, the “able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and stop runaway freight trains” kind of gal. Except in my case, I was expected to spring onto rickety old docks from a moving boat and stop our fifteen ton boat from crashing into said dock with its attending fleet of shiny boats and their very interested crews. This is a pretty tall order for a girl who’s adolescent athletic prowess consisted of a fervently whispered, “Please don’t let the ball come to me. Please! Please! Please!” In fact, the only thing I like about long trips is the fact we don’t have to dock. If the cap’n didn’t insist on docking every now and then to get fuel, we probably would have already completed a couple of circumnavigations.
Before we bought our boat we had never had the opportunity to practice docking. We had taken several charters and while they never explicitly said we couldn’t dock their boats, the fact that they drove their boats out of the dock at the beginning of the charter and then came out in a launch and brought the boats back in at the end of the charter was a big hint. We didn’t mind, we liked it that way. Now if we could just get somebody to do that with our own boat.
It doesn’t help that my docking history has a rather auspicious beginning. It should have been simple! It was slack tide and we were told to tie up at the end of a
T-dock. It was even slack water. Perfect for a first-timer. I was nervous but eager as I stood at midships with bowline in hand. I kept my eyes trained on the dock of which we were slowly coming along side.
“Closer.”
“Closer.”
“Not yet, just a little bit closer”
“NOW!!”
I took the leap. Gracefully (I’m sure) I arced to the dock. Softly I landed on the balls of my feet. I wobbled. I stepped back with my left foot (We’ll have to take points off for that.). The right foot soon followed and found nothing but air.
“Too much momentum,” I muttered as I dangled from the bowline on the other side of the dock. Although I despaired of ever winning the gold medal in the docking olympics, the ever present observers of all things asinine bestowed upon me the honorary title of “Lady GoDiving”. I would like to clarify that I was wearing clothes that day.
Early on in our sailing days we were assured by old salts that docking would be no problem because of those “omnipresent” dockhands. We soon found out that their presence is only felt between Memorial Day and Labor Day, and it seems they are bestowed with the same passive-aggressive sense of humor that you usually find in bridge tenders, but that’s another story. You know the routine. It goes something like this:
About an hour away from docking…
“Marina Anywhere, Marina Anywhere. Agur’s Wish…”
The answer comes quickly and clearly.
“Vessel calling Marina Anywhere, this is Marina Anywhere. How can I help you, cap?”
After you state your desire for a prestigious spot at their beautiful marina, you are soothingly assured that your request will be granted if you just call back when you get a little closer.
Fifteen minutes away from the marina…
“Marina Anywhere, Marina Anywhere. Agur’s Wish…”
Dead silence…
You repeat, “Marina Anywhere, Marina Anywhere. Agur’s Wish…”
Faintly you hear, “Vessel “crackle, crackle”. This is “static, static, garble, garble”.
“Marina Anywhere, this is Agur’s Wish. We have reservations tonight at your marina. Can you give us directions to the dock?”
With handheld plastered to your ear you can barely hear,
“Keep going on your current heading until you reach “crackle snap pop” dock. Your slip is the “static, static” dock on the “crackle, buzz” side.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. Could you repeat what you said?” you implore, a little desperately.
“You’ll need a “crackle, crackle, snap” side tie up.”
“Will there be somebody there to help us with our lines?”
The response is clear this time.
“Oh, yeah. There’ll be somebody there to, “snicker, snicker” help you, alright.”
Now the real fun begins. You dash for the binoculars and frantically begin searching for either a sign from God or a guy in khaki shorts and raybans nonchalantly waving his handheld at you.
Finally you spot him, (not God, the guy in the raybans). He summons you forward casually indicating your intended dock. He watches coolly as you race to tie dock lines and attach fenders. Just as you finish securing the last fender, his lips curl in a cruel little smile.
“Oh by the way this is a stern in only dock”, he says.
As the captain tries to explain to the unconcerned dockhand that your boat doesn’t drive well in reverse, you frantically race to untie and retie dock lines and detach and reattach fenders. Meanwhile the captain is busy trying to convince the butt end of your boat that it’s supposed to go into the slip and as usual it’s acting like the stubborn ass it is and is instead heading for the bowsprit of the boat in the next slip
All the while the evil guardian angel dockhand is keeping watch with his benevolent smile. Finally, much like a cat with a dead mouse, he tires of playing with you.
“Oh, alright, I guess you can come in bow first”, he relents.
Once more you do the fender/dockline shuffle while he guides the captain to bring the bow in closer….closer…keep coming…Crash!
“Whoa! Perfect!” he exclaims.
Finally the catastrophe is over and the boat is miraculously tied up safely for the night. The captain and you are settled in the cockpit with potent sundowners. Suddenly a hapless sailboat comes rushing in on the current. The panicked expression on the first mate’s face is easily recognizable. Your head swivels and you spot the same dockhand sauntering toward the last empty slip which just happens to be right next door. The captain and you look at each other. You know what you have to do. You jump off the boat and race to the empty slip, ready to do what you can to save your comrades from the evil grip of the dockhand, or at least minimize the damage to your boat.
Of course, the whole time I’m thinking…
“Please, please, please don’t throw the dock line to me!!”

P.S. To all dockhands every where, I have realized that the “evil dockhand” is a psychotic hallucination brought about by a fear of docking. The perceived evilness rapidly disappears the minute we are safely secured at the dock. Past and future “Muchas Gracias” to those that prevent imminent peril to life, limb and boat if us boaters were left to our own devices.