Paying Homage

So now you've bought the boat and every waking hour thought and talk is about the boat. Get used to it 'cause it never goes away:

Paying Homage

We’ve all been through it! Our significant others decided to go live on a boat and take us with them. We took a look around and queried, “But what are we going to do with all of our stuff?” The answer was quick and flippant. “We’ll sell it! After all, it’s just stuff.”

So we, the reluctant partners, began the painful process of divesting ourselves of our prized possessions. We even felt a little guilty if we got emotional over our Grandma’s cherished silver tea set or the kids’ grubby Teddy bear. “How could we be so materialistic?” we derided ourselves.

Then in the midst of packing and tagging, what should pull up to our curb? A UPS truck? What’s this? Doesn’t he know we bought a boat? We’re selling things, not buying things. We have broken the unholy chains of materialism. Amen! Allelujah!! The doorbell rings…

I throw open the front door. My loins are girded for the battle against this dark angel of temptation whom I used to welcome with open arms. Of course, that was in my unenlightened days of catalog and internet shopping orgies. That was before I found my salvation in “The Boat”.

Chin jutting forward, I stated, “You must have the wrong address.”

“Is this number 10 Easy Street?”

“Uh, yeah, but…” I sputter.

“Just sign here, lady,” he directs right before he yells over his shoulder, “Hey fellas, start unloading.”

Wait a minute here! My eyes zone in on the dollies of boxes bearing a litany of names like West Marine, Boat US, Marine Electronics…. An ugly suspicion begins to form. My narrowed eyes search out the captain who has been cowering in the corner.

“But, Honey, it’s for “The Boat”, he stammered.

That’s when I had a revelation. For the captain, the boat had become a sort of goddess. He devoutly believed that we had to surrender all our worldly goods and make enormous donations to “The Boat”. In exchange, “The Boat” would provide for us a life of happiness and well-being. The captain believed our only path to salvation was to follow “The Boat’s” commandments. By doing this, we would keep “The Boat” happy and never suffer her wrath which could include such calamities as; dead batteries, high engine temperatures, and bad head smells.

For you poor unenlightened souls “The Boat’s” commandments are:

Thou shalt love “The Boat” above all other boats, and just about everything else except for your mate, although in some cases even the mate can be considered sacrificial.
Thou shalt never take “The Boat’s” name in vain.

Thou shalt honor “The Boat” by weekly pilgrimages to the nearest West Marine Store.
Thou shalt not covet another’s “Boat”.

Thou shalt not bear false witness against “The Boat” by blaming her for mishaps that were really your fault.

Thou shalt give testimony to “The Boat’s” glory by speaking endlessly and exclusively about “The Boat”.

Thou shalt not leave “The Boat” for a house, condominium, or RV.

Thou shalt fervently treasure the hardships “The Boat” bestows upon you such as limited water, limited electrical capacity, and plentiful head smells, for these are the things that make you strong (in more ways than one). Do not congregate with those persons who would try to convince you otherwise.

Thou shalt not bring shame to “The Boat” by poor navigation, sloppy sail trim, or mortifying anchoring techniques.

Last, but not least,Thou shalt subscribe to every boating magazine available. Thou shalt go from port to port spreading their words of wisdom, thus increasing sales and the editors' cruising kittie.

*You also earn special graces from “The Boat” if you fall on the floor, contort your body, and speak in tongues while changing her oil filter.

I’m sure you’re asking if I have been converted. Alas, I’m afraid not. This year I brought aboard one box containing books and a video. Nothing to offer up to the goddess. The captain had thirteen boxes of offerings ranging from a new GPS (I guess she wasn’t happy with the three we already had ), countless shackles (before we had the boat, I was aware of only one use for shackles, but I’ll exercise ”restraint” and not go in to that),. I’m sure a sacrificial lamb is tucked in their somewhere. Is there hope for deprogramming the captain? About as much chance as that snowball had in hell. You can learn to live in harmony, though. It’s all about compromise and respecting each other’s different beliefs and callings. Remember my Grandma’s tea set? Why don’t you come on over to “The Boat” for tea and then we’ll do some penance by going shopping—for “The Boat” of course. Wouldn’t she look better with me in that cute little outfit I found.

Kary May's Sexy Guide to Buying a Boat

I’d been in the Bahamas for several months when I noticed a strange phenomenon kept occurring. I’d introduce myself to someone and they’d say “I already met you over in Guana. Don’t you remember, you were dancing with that tree.?” It took a little investigation but I finally discovered that I had an evil twin that lived on Great Guana Cay. Her name is Kary May and she dances with trees and poles because, unlike men, they don’t spin her too fast or dip her too low but somehow she still manages to fall down.

Unfortunately, Kary May showed up last night and these are her ideas on how to buy a boat….

I’ve been racking my brain all week on how to help my cousin, Mary Kay, help you all figure out what kind of boat to buy. I pondered all of the advantages and disadvantages of every kind of boat and how to steer you towards the boat that was right for you. Power vs. sail, mono hull vs. multi hull, 2 heads vs. 1, propane vs. alcohol…

And then, as it is prone to do, my brain turned to the subject of sex. I tried to turn it back to task--think sail trim, think bow thrusters, think self-tailing wenches, but it all brought me back to “SEX”. How in the world is buying a boat at all akin to “SEX”.

And then it came to me.

All of the four main boat types that we encounter in our boating life share attributes with various suitors we have encountered or would like to encounter. We’ll call them Monohull Mike, Multihull Mario, Trawler Tom, and Powerboat Paulo.

Let’s start with Monohull Mike since he’s the one I’m more familiar with. He’s the kind of guy you take home to Daddy. Mike’s got clean strong lines and he comes from a respectable yard. He’s gonna get Daddy’s little girl home safe at night and he’s not gonna run out of gas on the way. He’s stable, he doesn’t move too fast and he’s got plenty of storage for his prophylactic safety devices.

Unfortunately , he only as room in his heart for you. He’ll gladly double date for an evening but only if it’s "dutch". He truly believes three is a crowd. His cockpit may be teenie but his heart his huge.

Multihull Mario: He’s the bad boy of the sailing world. The Monohull Mikes say he is unstable and doesn’t have the staying power. Mario says he likes being a little off balance and if he needs a little more thrust, that‘s what his jugs are for. He’s a party guy and his big cockpit will accommodate all comers. After you’ve multihulled you can try out the trampoline out front. Yee-Haw !!!

Trawler Tom: He’s the comfort food of boats. Just like a slice of Mom’s apple pie he’s a yummy piece of home. He’s got the back porch to rock away a lazy day with a good book. He’s got comfy chairs and real lamps. In his former life he might have been a Mike or Mario but he doesn’t want to work that hard on trim anymore, he just wants to get there. Lucky for us, he’s not in a hurry so he waits for the perfect moment, making the passage smooth and comfortable. And since he’s usually plugged in to a slip, you know what position you’re going to be in each and every night.

Powerboat Paulo: Ah…the elusive dreamboat that surges through our sodden dreams. He’s aloof and definitely high maintenance. Paulo may not know his way around a stuffing box, but what the heck, he’s got others to do the grunt work for him. He’s so sleek and sophisticated, we’d be happy just to polish his doorknobs. Ahh….but for most of us he is just a dream.

So there you go, Kary May’s guide to boat buying. It’s just so hard…uh, I mean difficult to choose. I think I’ll take one of each.

Is my mind in the bulge, uh, I mean bilge or do a lot of sailing terms have sexual connotations? I can think of dozens. How about you? How about sharing them with us by posting them under the comments tab at the bottom of this post.

Rule Four: Home is where the heart is

I know , I know, I know!
The Annapolis boat show is coming up and your cap'n is lathering to get out and get a boat. A word to the wise, read my article "Smitten" on this blog to see what happens at the Annapolis boat show. Believe me they all look good! And I promise next week's blog will be about what boat will suit you. But for now, I have one more thing you need to discuss before you even buy the airline tickets to the boat show. By the way, it's probably too late to get a room.

This topic may not seem significant but it will influence what kind of boat you buy and where you choose to sail and, once again, the cruising kitty. Better to get it out of the way.

How often will you travel back home?

This may not be of much concern if you are living aboard part time and spending the rest of the time at a land-based home that is conveniently located for trips to your favorite F&F’s(friends and family). You must keep in mind though, emergencies and important events that you will need or want to attend will sometimes happen. To illustrate this during our first year and a half of living aboard full-time four out of our five children got married, one parent died, one parent broke his hip and we’ve had two grandchildren. We made it back for all of the weddings, the funeral, and one grandchild's birth. However, we were either in FL or the Bahamas which is a 1 or 2 day flight to anywhere in the US. These are just the big events. With the high cost of travel this subject needs to come up in the arguing, I mean “setting the rules” stage of planning. Don’t forget to include trip expenses in the cruising kitty. Be prepared for the emergencies and be honest about the non-emergencies you expect to attend back in that other life. I can’t count the number of fights, I mean discussions, the cap’n and I have had over about what constitutes an emergency worthy of a trip home. How does this affect what kind of boat you're going to buy? Well, if you are going to stay in easy reach of F&F's you probably don't need a bluewater cruiser. Which is what the cap'n and I bought because we should have done all of the Caribbean and crossed to the Med by now. Instead, we found a place just 90 miles off of FL that some ski jets have made it to on one tank of gas and we fell in love. We've been there for four years but in our defense we've stayed at a different cay every year. By the way cap'n say's we're going further south this year. All of our boater friends just laugh.

Okay I'm getting tired of getting no input from my fellow first mates, I'm thinking of starting a roll call just like in school:
Dori (Sol y Mar)
Doris (Exit Strategy)
Cindy(?) It was one of those nights
Jill (JillyQ)
Pattie (Blue Dolphin)
Phyllisx2 (Chapter X and Mollie 2)
Marie (Typee Mistress)
Susan (Perpetual Motion)
Lynn (Boomerang)
Susie (Blue Jacket)
Ami (Mon Ami)
Ruthie (Galena)
Mary (I love that name) (Who Cares)
Linda (Ciganka)
Cat (Catherine) (Highland Wanderer)
& Many Many More
Hey gals,
All you have to do is click on that tiny comment tab on the bottom of this post and say "here". I know none of you are shy. I've danced around poles with you.
.........

Love you all!
Safe sailing

Mary

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!
Just click on the comment link on the bottom of this post. You no longer have to register. Just click Name/Url and put it your name.

Also you can email any of my posts to friends by clicking on the envelope.

Also,Also,I have been trying to get the advertisements more relevant to this site and it doesn't seem to be working on the main page but if you click on the "Link" on the bottom of the posts those advertisements seem to be more for the boating stuff we or our captains love.

One more thing.... I have added links to my favorite boating websites and blogs on the left side of the page under "About Me"

Oh yeah, if I get lucky enough to actually have readers that follow this site, I'd love to know who you are. You can register in the Fellow First Mates section also on the left side of the page underneath "My Blog Sites. Don't be shy.

Have Fun!

Rule Number Two: To Live-aboard full-time or part-time

Okay, you've stomped you foot, you've shook your head, and ...
Now that we’ve got that out of the way. Maybe you’re actually considering it. Hmmm…It could be fun. He’s pumped you up. He’s talked about exotic ports and romantic nights under star studded skies. It’s sounding pretty darn good. Just the two of you.
Whoa, Nellie! Hold on a minute. It’s time for a reality check here. First for very few of us is it “just the two of us”. There’s the aging parents. There’s the kids and grandkids. There’s the brothers and sisters and most of us can find at least one person that will claim us as their friend.
I remember conversations with our loved F&F’s (friends and family) before we moved aboard full time. When the question of how long we were going to stay “out there” came up the cap’n would very confidently say “Oh, four or five years.” When the heads would swivel to me, I’d hem and haw and say “We’ll see.” Secretly, I was going to give it my best for two years. I remember one of our sons telling me, “Mom, you and Jeff need to talk. He was right.
It is unfair and most certainly a recipe for failure to enter into this great adventure giving your partner false expectations by not advising him honestly and unwaveringly of your own expectations. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known each other, he can’t read your mind and in this instance he probably doesn’t even want to try.
All couples are different and have their different priorities and expectations. The following subjects seem to be some of the more common ones that come up for argument. Uh, I mean speculation. All of these will definitely contribute to what kind of boat you end up with.
Up first!
To live aboard full time or not. It seems to me that most cruising guides I read before moving aboard were based on the full time liveaboard. In my own experience though it seems that the people living aboard full time are the minority. Most cruisers still have a land based home in which they reside at least half of the year. For our first three years as boat owners the cap’n and I lived aboard our boat for six months of the year and went back to our house in our hometown to work for six months. I really enjoyed doing this. If I was getting sick of work and the routine of dirt dwelling I could see an end in sight. On the flip side if I was getting sick of the inconveniences of the boat and homesick for a hot bath, in-house laundry and the F&F’s, again, there was an end in sight. This seems to be the ideal solution for many cruisers. It, of course, requires the financial capability to pay for and/or maintain both the boat and the house. If you are having any doubts about life aboard full time it would certainly be prudent to try this arrangement, at least temporarily, before you sell your home and most of your belongings. If you decide to do this there are some steps you can take and sacrifices you can make before hand. For most people their biggest land based expenses are their home mortgage and car payments. In 1997 the cap’n and I went to the Annapolis boat show swearing we were only looking-not buying-and then came home the proud owners of Agur’s Wish. We truly hadn’t planned it this way. The big escape was supposed to be somewhere in the very distant future. We were working more than full-time in the medical profession, living in a 4000 sq. foot home and had three vehicles. We could have afforded to keep the boat and pay all the bills but we would still have to work full time. When would we have time sail? So we did what seemed logical. We mixed ourselves a drink. And then we mixed another. And as usually happens, in inebriated oblivion the impossible became possible. Fortunately, when we woke up the next morning it still seemed possible. We sold the house and moved into a duplex we already owned. We sold the good car and drove the other two until they were beaten and battered but still refused to die. We took extra call shifts and worked overtime to pay off our bills and build the cruising kitty. It wasn’t always fun but it was worthwhile knowing we were making our dream a reality. Finally, we were able to take off for our first six months of cruising bliss. Because we were only planning to cruise for six months, we were actually able to do this within nine months of buying the boat.
Another advantage of this arrangement is that it does give you time if needed to
work for a period of time to replenish the kitty. The cap’n and I are fortunate to work in the medical field which is rife with shortages guaranteeing us employment when we need it. I know several part-time cruisers who work in retail (Did someone say West Marine?) or construction or whatever they can find just to go cruising again. As I write this we are anchored next to a two masted schooner whose captain does day charters on his boat in the states for six months of the year so he can bask in the sunny islands the rest of the year. Where there’s a will there’s a way.
The cap'n and I did finally move aboard full-time for four years. After about three years I was growing a little disenchanted with the boat-life (read majorly depressed) and had serious house envy of anyone we visited. It took him about one more year, a summer spent dirt dwelling, a return to the Hot! Hot! Hot! Bahamas in September and a boat breakdown before he cried "Uncle!" I just cried "Hallelujah!" and opened up the laptop to the real estate sections. You might wonder why I waited a year of being unhappy before insisting we give up full-time boating. There are several reasons. First, and foremost, we had made so many friends where we were that I didn't want to leave. Second,I could tell he was ready also but hadn't admitted it to himself. Fortunately, he did finally admit it but some captains never do want to leave the boat or at least they never admit it. Why is that? There is very strong feeling in the boating community that to give up boating is just that. Giving up! Woosing out. Failing! And if you have spent years planning this wonderful adventure and it didn't turn out, it's pretty hard to swallow. But you know what? At least you tried it. At least you left the dock. Life is too short to be unhappy just so you don't have to admit you were wrong. Or you can be like a lot of us. Just part-time losers and part-time boaters.
See you out there.

Smitten (How Our Boat Found Us)

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The Other Side of the Boat
SMITTEN

Let's back-up and start at the beginning...

Oh, the sweet, sweet joy of irrepressible, illogical love—whether it be for the “well-beyond-our reach” homecoming queen or the “well-beyond-our-funds”(and insurance capabilities) cherry-red sports car. We’ve all felt it. Reveled in it! We’ve all said, “To hell with the consequences!” andtaken the plunge. It seems like only yesterday…

It was on a crisp, bright autumn morning in Annapolis when across the boatyard I spotted a brawny, broad-shouldered brute of a boat. My heart tugged me and I tugged my husband Jeff across the yard and up the ladder. The exterior was craggy with experience-worn teak decks. Its noble bone structure personified toughness. But along with that bad boy exterior came a heart of gold, and this one was 18 carats. At the bottom of the companionway steps I took a look over my shoulder into the saloon. “This is the one!” I hollered up at my husband.
Always the voice of caution, he replied, “We’ll see.” And as if I were a headstrong teenager, the more words of caution and reasonable alternatives I heard, the more stubbornly enamored I became.

To really understand the dynamics of all this you have to understand the events that brought about this bonding of woman with boat. My husband and I had taken an active interest in sailing two years before our current boat hunt. This was extremely difficult, considering we lived in landlocked southwest Kansas, where the biggest body of water for 300 miles is the municipal swimming pool. After several charters, we decided to reconfigure our lives and spend more time on the water. But first we had to find “the boat.” At about 2,000 miles away, Annapolis was the closest shopping place and the October boat show was the queen of the sailboat malls.
Of course, before we headed east, we pinned down exactly what we wanted in a boat—strength being at the top of his list, beauty at the top of mine. And we made a solemn vow: We were only looking, not buying! As a woman who has come home too many times with too many shopping bags full after making the same vow, I should have known better.

During the show we climbed on and off of hundreds of boats. While he exclaimed over engine space, I compared leather to printed chintz and admired the decorative ferns. Every boat was beautiful in its own right, but not one called out to me. Finally a boat dealer at the show, having heard our requirements, steered us to a used boat that fit every one of them.
It did nothing for us! But, it was from the deck of this boat that I spotted my true love, a 1987 40-foot Tashiba. It was kind of like being set up on a blind date and falling for your date’s best friend.

I guess I should explain what my requirements for our future boat were. First and foremost, I had to have a scoop-end swim platform. We had chartered a boat once in the Caribbean that had only a short boarding ladder on the side, and I discovered the only way I was going to be able to haul myself out of the water and on to that boat in anything resembling a speedy (forget graceful) manner was if a hungry shark suddenly chose me as his mid-afternoon snack. Even then it was going to take an act of God. Other items on the wish list included a spacious aft cabin (with a queen-size berth) and a nice roomy cockpit in which to entertain all the new boat friends we would be making.

So how did this hunk of a boat with its decidedly round stern manage to turn my head. For the first time in days, when I ended my climb down the companionway I knew I was on a boat. The timeless woodwork and the heavy brass portholes told me so. Absent were the ferns and designer fabric I had thought so important, and in their place was the tried-and-true style of protective close-knit spaces and gracious curves. It just kept whispering, “I’ll take care of you.”
Meanwhile, up on deck, my husband was cautiously rejoicing with fingers tightly crossed, for the boat had everything he had dreamed of. A full keel, lots of weight, a cutter rig and that canoe end—everything he knew would protect us well during whatever cruising we decided to do.
Oh, I forgot to tell you—he was loaded, and I appreciate that in a male of any type. I’m talking about the boat now, not my husband. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know boats are traditionally female, but not this one.) The boat had been outfitted for extensive offshore cruising by a lawyer who took a two-year hiatus from work. He sailed around for two years and then put the boat and everything on it up for sale. The equipment included would have taken us years to purchase if we’d had to equip the boat ourselves. The guy had back-ups for his back-ups.

In order to finalize the deal, we hired a crusty old surveyor, who acted as though we were doing him a disservice by asking him to come survey our boat. He was truly confounded that we had come looking at the first boat and had ended up with this one. Dumb luck, I guess, and I know he would agree. He merely rolled his eyes when we talked of refinishing the teak deck (which we learned later had merely mellowed to a healthy gray and required no refinishing at all). He grumbled when we mentioned getting rid of all the unsightly bric-a-brac on the stern end (which turned out to be our wind generator mount and a steering system). But he just couldn’t control himself when we allowed as how we’d have to get rid of those ugly red sails. “Who would ever pick that color?” we asked. Slowly and patiently, gritting his teeth, he explained that “tanbark” was the traditional sail color. (I really wish I was making all this up.)
After, two days of the surveyor’s mutinous banging around on our hull and sniffing through lockers, we were finally ready to take the boat out for its sea trial. “I suppose you’ll want to get the sails up,” the surveyor inquired, obviously annoyed at the thought and hoping we would be too embarrassed to show anybody those “ugly red” sails. But we insisted, and he ended up grinning the whole time as the heavy boat heeled over smoothly and, to our amazement, made an easy seven knots.

Once again he scoffed at our naivete, “What did you expect? After all she’s a Bob Perry design.”

Whoever he is. We had no idea at the time.

Needless to say the boat passed the survey with flying colors and became ours. And two weeks later we sacrificed an already booked charter in the Caribbean to sail our new boat on the Chesapeake. We snagged our first crab pot, ran aground a couple of times, and the dinghy motor crapped out on us. We loved it so much we came back six months later and spent the next six months discovering the Bay. From Langford Creek where really big things (skates) went bump in the night, to Dobbins Island for our first thunderstorm and dragging, to Baltimore’s wonderful Inner Harbor to countless secluded anchorages and charming towns, we fell in love with the Bay while falling more in love with our boat.

Since then we have stretched our sea legs a little and have sailed as far north as Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, where there is no such thing as a secluded anchorage and boaters have a really peculiar notion of anchoring. (“What do you mean I’m dragging in forty feet of water, I’ve got eighty feet of rode out!”) And we’ve gone as far south as Key West which is just plain peculiar and proud of it! And are currently exploring the Beautiful Bahamas. I’m happy to say the love affair lives on. My first impression of our boat has held true and he has loyally protected us from wind and wave and, more frequently, ourselves. And of course compromises and adjustments have had to be made along the way—as in any relationship. The captain bought me an extended ladder so I can exit the water gracefully should any hungry sharks come cruising, and we’ve always been able to make more room in the cockpit for new friends. Although a nice rear end with a scoop swim platform can still turn my head, I’m standing by my boat.

Next Blog: Back to The Rules: A little more practical way of picking your boat