I fear I have an addiction. No, I’m not into drinking or doing mind-altering drugs. But I continue to engage in an activity that, by its very nature, is probably not good for me and makes me feel weepy and frantic at times. It’s like one minute I’m on a magic carpet and the next minute I’m in a tumbling free fall until I come smack down to earth. Still, I continue, knowing this will happen again and again. I feel somewhat powerless in the face of this behavior. I don’t exactly ‘hide’ this behavior from my husband or friends, not exactly, but other signs of addiction are mounting. I spend more and more time engaging in the behavior. I neglect other parts of my life in order to give myself wholly to this endeavor. It owns me, heart and soul. I speak, of course, of looking at boats on Yachtworld.com.
I can spend literally hours at a time cruising the Yachtworld pages. I have a running list of boats I like, most of which are not even listed anymore. I compare the boats available in the Great Lakes region to the ones available on the East coast, to those in California, to those in my own Pacific Northwest (where I will have to pay about 9% sales tax on a boat! Damn! That’s going to cut into the budget seriously!). I consider the wisdom of buying a boat in Mexico or Canada.
But, hey, I’m doing research! I mean, I do learn a lot about what I like and don’t like about each boat. I guess you could say that all of this looking is helping us narrow down what’s important to us. But mostly it makes me feel like whining.
In spite of myself I’ve experienced price creep in my longings. I started out keeping my searches to a reasonable price of 50,000$. Yes, that IS a lot of money. But not for a sailboat. It’s not going to buy you much of a sailboat. So I upped it to 75,000$. That buys a bit more. That will buy a boat that is workable for our little plan, but will still need substantial upgrading if I want to feel safe and prepared at sea, which I do.
Like all good addictions, that wasn’t enough. Soon I had to increase the price to $100,000. I hear all the gasps of pain from you readers, especially those of you who are not owned by boats. It’s a crazy amount of money. But this will basically be our HOUSE for a number of years if all goes as planned. Does it still sound like too much? Yeah. That’s what I thought, too. So I started looking at boats between 100,000 and 200,000$. Did you catch that complete disconnect there? Dear God there are some beautiful floating houses out there. Now I’m REALLY flying out of my league. Way, way out.
The day is coming when the shopping needs to end and a decision needs to be made. I think we are getting closer to making that decision to buy a different boat, my addiction not withstanding. The money we’re spending on a boat now needs to be spent on a boat that will take us to Mexico and beyond in the future. This is only logical, people. It must have been that logic that caused me to fall completely in love with an Oyster39 center cockpit for sale up in Sydney BC. I had looked at the boat on line couple of times before and thought it looked very nice, not to mention that Oyster yachts have a fine reputation as blue water cruisers. And the price was right, too. Unbelievable.
So here is where the teeth gnashing comes in. I contacted the broker, only to be told that an offer had been written on the boat THE DAY BEFORE! Oh my dear GOD in Heaven!! Teeth gnashing doesn’t even begin to cover it. There was wailing and carrying on and tearing of hair, at least inside my head. There were visions of me prostrate on the ground, praying to whatever little gods are in charge of boat-buying to save that boat for us. I believe wheedling and deal-making may have been involved. There began to be actual praying that the sale would fall through for whatever poor soul is buying our boat. How unworthy of me! I had to pull myself up short. And believe me when I say it was HARD! I still have my moments. Sniff.
So I fear I have willingly bought a ticket for the worst kind of roller coaster. Last time I rode a roller coaster I had vertigo for a week. I had trouble telling where the ground was. I’d wake up in the night and clutch the bed, thinking I was falling. Let’s hope this experience is not more of the same. I’d like to keep my sanity intact. Meanwhile, Mike is holding onto his wallet for dear life.