I keep forgetting that we still need to sell Moonrise. And by that I mean that I keep looking at other boats as though it were possible to actually buy them. I am like the wife who starts a new affair before the divorce has gone through. Well, that’s a rather bad image, but you know what I mean. I do enjoy looking at boats, and I’ve seen a lot of them lately. In the near future, I’ll publish reviews of a little Pacific Seacraft Flicka, a Pacific Seacraft Crealock 34, and a Finnsailer 35 pilothouse. Now there’s an interesting boat.

Sneak preview of a cute boat.

The more I look at boats, the more I get to know that special feeling I get when I really feel drawn to one. I can now differentiate between  ‘it’s a nice enough boat’, ‘not in my lifetime, ever’, ‘this has everything on my list and I could like it okay’, and ‘I love this boat’. The problem with this is when the ‘I love this boat’ feeling comes at the wrong time, or, in my case, when it comes with a big wooden sailboat that is completely, utterly impractical. Oy vey. I don’t make it easy on myself.

Our daughter, Claire, on Flying Gull

If there is one thing that is true about me, it’s that I rarely make decisions using logic. That’s right male readers. I am illogical when it comes to some things and I’m not afraid to admit it.  It’s always about the heart with me. That’s how we’ve found ourselves remodeling two houses. That’s how my current home ended up with a 4000 gallon koi pond. That’s how my yard got filled with gardens and garden art I spent years making myself. It’s always about that creative process that feeds my soul. My husband has the patience of a saint, I can tell you.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that choosing a boat by using a checklist is a little like choosing a man the same way. It looks good on paper, but it never translates well into real life. You might meet someone who has all of your ‘requirements’; a good job, nicely groomed, speaks well of his mother, you know the drill. And then you meet him and he’s nice enough, but there is no chemistry. Do you settle? Or do you go for the gold? I’ve generally been a ‘go for the gold’ kind of girl. And with men, that worked out great! I mean, he’s put up with me for this long. Looks like it’s going to work out between us.

One of the dorade vents on Flying Gull.

It’s the same with boats. Take, for instance, one of the boats we saw last year that looked good on paper: a Cal 39 on the hard up in Anacortes. It had everything on our checklist. Great sailing boat, the right kind of hull shape, an extra cabin for a kid, plenty of storage, blah blah blah. I liked it fine. I even felt sorry for it, being up on the hard like a beached whale. But it didn’t make my heart sing. And frankly, I’m holding out for opera here. I want a high note, and I want it clear and sustained. Or at least a rich contralto.  I want a boat from the music of the spheres, a boat the Angels will sing about, a boat that brings tears to people’s eyes. (Yeah, I can get kind of worked up, but it doesn’t last.)

Wrapped up like a birthday present.

So we went Saturday to visit Flying Gull once more to see if she still sang the same song for us. And I admit that she did, for me. But I also admit that I could see all the work that needs to be done on her topside. And she is very, very large. Indeed, she feels a bit like a behemoth compared to our Cal 34. I can’t tell yet whether my vision of myself working willingly on her considerable amount of wood is a vision from the future, or a memory of the past in my life; a past where I’ve put my hand to refinishing wood over and over because, yet again, I had a vision of what something could be. I know she sings, but I can’t tell yet if it’s our song.

Maybe I can envision working on her because it’s such a familiar feeling. Maybe it’s just that I know how to work on projects because it’s all I’ve ever done in my life. Even when we were raising the children I always had a project or two, or three, in the works. I wonder if I know how to be in this world without working on something? Or whether that would even be a good thing? I mean, even as a child I was always involved in creativity, in making and doing things.  What is life if one isn’t involved in the creative process? That sounds pretty interesting on one hand, and pretty boring on the other.

So the heart and the boat sing together, but we will not know if they sing the same song until Moonrise sells and buying another boat becomes a real possibility. Until then, I will be like the woman who flirts but never gets serious because she is already taken. And if someone comes along and buys Flying Gull and will love her and take care of her, I’ll be happy for them and hope they will take us sailing on her some day. Because if there is one thing I know, it’s that the Universe is filled with possibilities. Where there is one singing boat, there will be another if that is what I require. And now that I have felt it, it is required. Definitely.

Detail on cabinet door.