A Boat By Any Other Name

S/V ????

The taxes are paid, the boat is registered, and we have insurance for Andrew’s boat. All that remains is finding a local marina more convenient than the one in Gig Harbor where the boat is currently moored. And a name. Andrew is thinking about what to name this vessel since the she doesn’t have a name already.

Naming a boat is a weighty responsibility.  Our first boat, the Saucy Sue, was so named after a linefrom a Black Adder episode. Our family knows all the lines from all the episodes. We are complete Black Adder geeks. The name fit the boat, a diminutive Catalina 27 that was quick and responsive and seemed many times to have a mind of her own. She had’sauciness’ to spare. Mike named that boat as soon as we got her; another boat that had no name at the outset. It seemed like the name really described that boat’s personality,or at least what we projected onto her.

The Sue being extra saucy!

Then there is Moonrise. Our current Cal 34 has been called Moonrise for many years and I never wanted to change it. When I first learned that this was her name, I knew she was the boat for us. It does suit her. The word conjurs up images of peaceful nights, of romance, of the mutability of the feminine. We have always seen Moonrise as a graceful vessel, a little like a woman with southern charm. Images of the moon suit her. The moon also represents emotion, those energies that wax and wane like the moon. She has certainly touched our hearts, bringing both great joy and a feeling of freedom.

Moon rising over S/V Moonrise. How cool is that? We are anchored at Penrose State Park, all alone!

We wonder, sometimes, at the names we see on boats. Many people apparently like to use a double entendre to make some kind of a point in naming their vessel. Sometimes that will cause us to cringe collectively, almost reflexively rolling our eyes. We saw a boat named ‘Miss Isle’. Really? You think maybe she’s fast? Then there was ‘Vitamin Sea’. Okay. There’s a boat in our marina called ‘Our Third Love’. We don’t know what that means. We hope the owners know. Then there is the ubiquitous ‘Luna Sea’. ‘Lun a cy’. Get it? HAHAHAHA! Right. You get the point. I’m sure somewhere there is a book on boat names. Or probably an internet site. Because someone has to make this stuff up and it’s certainly not me.

We recently looked at a lovely Cal39 that is in the running as ‘the boat’ for us. The
boat’s name is ‘Saila V’. Now, ‘C’est la vie’ isn’t ncessarily a bad a name for a boat,
but really? Why couldn’t they have simply used the French expression? It’s not a ‘cutesy’ boat, it’s a lovely boat. Why have a cutesy name? What’s strange is that this expression is generally said with somewhat of a shrug. It’s a dismissive expression and gesture used in response to something negative. You could say ‘shit happens’ and it would mean almost the same thing. When we looked at the boat, I sort of shrugged and felt like ‘meh…’. And it’s a nice boat that is very well kept and has a layout exactly like the one we saw months ago that I’ve frequently wished we had bought! I should have been pretty excited about it. I wonder if the feeling tone of the name had infiltrated this boat. If we buy that boat, the name is going away fast. I’ll have to look at it again and see if it still leaves me with the same feeling.

Compare this with the name ‘Spellbound’, which is the name of the Westerly 39 we looked at up in Anacortes and is reviewed on the boat page. That boat grabbed me right away. I must have been under a spell of some kind because I still like that boat, even though it has many, many more faults than the recent Cal 39, and it is going to need some likely major repairs. Is the name speaking to me more than the actual boat? Maybe in the future I should remain ignorant of the vessel name when looking for the first time because it’s clear that logic plays little part in the feeling one gets about a boat.

So Andrew has run through a number of possibilities in naming his new boat. Right away I thought of ‘Sea Monkey’, a playful name with just a touch of a nod to Poseidon. Just a touch. He thought of ‘Saucy Sue’ because he has such fond memories of that boat and he learned to sail on her. Of course he’s also thought of ‘Mopey Teen’, and ‘Slack Bladder’ (another reference to Black Adder). Imagine hailing someone on the VHF, saying either of those names three times. He is ever the amusing lad. “Mopey Teen, Mopey Teen, Mopey Teen, this is your mother. Do you copy?.”

Andrew at the helm of Saucy Sue in his REAL mopey teen days.

He won’t know until he sails her what the name should be, but maybe you readers already have ideas. What would you name a boat like this little Ericson 25? These boats are described as fast, tender, pointing well, sailing like a boat much larger than they are. Sounds like they are little boats with big hearts. What would you name her?

Victory is Ours!

What does this look like to you?

Loyal readers, if you think this looks like three happy men doing a drug deal, you are wrong. This is three happy men doing a boat deal! Andrew is now the proud owner of  S/V ‘we don’t know yet’ and he is a mighty happy young man. After everyone’s prayers, good wishes, crossed fingers with spitting, and walking widdershins, Andrew awoke this morning to a phone call from Steve, the boat’s previous owner. Apparently the man who had been thinking of buying this little 1976 Ericson 25 doesn’t yet know how to sail and though he obviously knew a good deal when he saw it, he was really on the fence about buying. So that allowed Steve to encourage the man to take sailing lessons, and then to sell this boat to Andrew with a relieved conscience, knowing he was doing the right thing by all parties. You have to admire a man like that, for sure.

The atmosphere was one of jubilation and celebration as we drove out to the marina to make the deal. Frankly, this was the men’s day. I was an unnecessary accessory. Oh, except I wrote the check. There is that little detail. But if I sound sullen about this, I’m not at all. The men all bonded over the engine and the meticulous notebook of boat information. After hearing words like ‘fuel mix’, ‘battery’, and ‘choke’  my mind began to wander and their voices faded into the distance. I began to take photos, explore the boat, and admire the men at their best. Believe me when I say I enjoy watching men do manly things.

Each page is encased in its own plastic sleeve in this meticulously kept notebook of information about this boat.

This is the cleanest little boat you can imagine, both inside and out! It’s hard to believe this boat was built the year I graduated from high school. Steve said the original owner had it in fresh water. It’s only been in salt water for a few years. Maybe that has something to do with how completely turn-key it is.  Did I mention that the previous owner is a retired Navy officer? Well, the owner before him was a Navy commander. ‘Ship shape’ is a term which accurately describes everything about this boat. Unlike all the other boats we looked at, there is absolutely nothing that has to be done to this boat before Andrew can begin enjoying it.

A naming ceremony is in the near future for this little vessel.

Things to love about this boat start with the centerboard, which allows the boat to be beached onto the mud (just like the twin keel of the Westerly Nomad would have done). The benefit here is the money savings in terms of having the boat hauled out to clean the bottom. Cool!  Also, the roller furling is very cool. Not only does this boat HAVE furling on the jib, but it’s a kind we’ve not seen before. The furling unit is integral to the sail, allowing the forestay to be available for another head sail. Andrew can drop the jib and hank on a storm sail if necessary, or fly two head sails wing on wing. The rig is pretty standard with the traveler on the cabin top and the jib sheets within easy reach of the helmsman. This boat should be easy to sail.

In addition, the centerboard allows this boat to be trailerable. I believe it is the largest boat that is considered a trailor sailor. We can store this boat at home in the winter if we get a trailer for it. We will think about that later.

The versatile cabin

The original 1976 upholstery is in excellent condition, and is actually attractive! This settee easily, in 30 seconds, converts to a double berth. Fantastic! Yellow pillows and a bright blanket will make this cabin feel like home. And take a look below at the table. It, too, is mulifunctional. Set it up for one person, or extend it for two or more. The V berth is perfect for one person, and plenty long enough. The cushions are in excellent condition throughout the boat. I don’t even need to clean them!

Andrew enjoys his first meal on board, and ponders future travels.

The tiny galley.

Another amenity is the fully enclosed marine head with holding tank. Not many small boats can boast this and it’s one of the things we loved about the Westerlies. Andrew was pretty set on having this on the boat, especially after I mentioned in passing that most girls do not appreciate having to use a porta pottie. Sometimes he DOES listen to me!

The galley is small. There is a small sink covered with a cutting board, and an icebox. There is no stove, but we have a nice Coleman white gas stove that will serve just fine. Other amenities include a good sized hanging locker, nice lazerettes, and a nice complement of sails. We will have to find a light air sail for him, but all in good time. The only down side to the boat is the engine is a bit of a gas hog at 3 gallons/hour. That’s going to add up fast, so maybe we better rethink finding the light air sail sooner rather than later.

In terms of electronics, this boat has a stereo system, a VHF radio that looks like new, and a Garmin fish finder. They all work perfectly. What more does a guy need? We have a handheld GPS that will work fine, and he has a Samsung Galaxy tablet computer that he can use to download marine charts, etc.  Sweet! There is even a navigation area below, with storage!

After doing the boat deal for Andrew, we left him on his new baby to bond with it and traveled up to Poulsbo to look at a Cal 39 that just came on the market. During our visit in Poulsbo we discovered just how dangerous it’s going to be for Andrew to have a boat of his own. We came across this place:

This is a dangerous, dangerous store.

It’s a marine exchange, which means it sells second hand marine goods.

A veritable wonderland. Uh oh.

We left 40$ poorer, but Andrew now has a hiking stick for his tiller. We bypassed the little gimbaled brass lanterns for 44$ each rather than 100$ each. They would have looked extra salty on his teak bulkheads, but we have to draw the line somewhere!

Heading home after a long afternoon of boat bonding.

 

 

Coaster Riding

1500$ will buy you this. Two words: No WAY!

What is this thing with the connections to our kids that just causes all kinds of suffering? It isn’t the actual children who cause the suffering. I want to be clear about that. Our kids are great and always have been. It’s the connection to their lives, the CARING about them that causes all the suffering. You know how when a woman is pregnant, she is allegedly ‘eating for two’? Well, that kind of thing doesn’t necessarily end with the snip of an umbilical cord.

As our regular readers may remember, we are looking for a nice little sailboat for our son, Andrew. We want him to have the experience of single-handing his own boat, of knowing the freedom that comes from being able to go just about anywhere your boat can take you. So we are literally boat shopping. And this is where that connection with Andrew, directly through my heart, causes me so much suffering.

If you’ve ever shopped for anything as important as a boat, you’ll know what it’s like to be on that particular emotional roller coaster. Hopes are built. Hopes are dashed. Hopes are built again, only to be completely dashed. I see how he tries not to get his hopes up, so mine go up twice as far to make up the difference. I see how he tries not to be too disappointed when a boat turns out to be a piece of junk, and my heart plummets to depths his will never reach because I know he cannot afford to get that emotional about it yet. The more he tries to moderate his own response, the more mine gets crazy. I am emotional enough for two.

Are you kidding me? That's about 5 inches of standing water, by the way.

We found a cute little Westerly 22 Nomad for sale and loved that one. It needed work, but the potential was easy to see and Andrew’s heart went ‘pitty pat’ when he thought about owning it. Everyone knows that’s the real test of whether a sailboat is right for you. If it doesn’t make the heart sing, keep looking. We arranged a second visit and I had my checkbook ready because I just knew THIS WAS THE BOAT!

Too bad about this cute little Westerly Nomad. We loved this boat.

We were ready to enter negotiations with the owners. Unfortunately, these owners, who knew nothing about their boat and had never sailed her, also did not understand that the word ‘negotiation’ here means that both parties come to an agreement. They just said ‘no’ to our initial offer and that was that. No counter offer, no nothing. They were decidedly strange and the whole deal had started to feel wierd so we walked away. My heart thumped. My stomach ached.

Andrew has looked at a couple of San Juan 23’s. No go. They are usually stripped down for racing. Likewise the little Catalina 22’s he’s looked at. These have all been little boats left to languish like orphans with no one to care for them. Sad, but too much work to take on, and no amenities to make a boat comfortable.  Time, and his summer, marches on as we drive all over creation looking at these lost causes. With every new expedition we hope we’ll see a decent boat for a reasonable price. Most turn out to be crap.

But today was different. We saw what looked like a nice little Ericson 25 on Craigslist for a very reasonable price. The boat looked clean and the ad said it was in great condition. Andrew called, and an hour later we were looking at the boat. It was terrific! It was perfect! The minute I saw the owner, a retired military officer, I knew his boat would be in excellent condition. I was right. We all fell for this boat the minute we saw her. Andrew and I exchanged surreptitious looks. Mike and I glanced at one another in that knowing kind of way parents have. Our hearts were singing in perfect harmony.

This Ericson 25 is just about perfect.

We were ready to write the check immediately. Then the owner said he actually had someone else who called first and said they would buy the boat, but wanted to see it first. Although this person had yet to be able to come to the marina and follow through, he felt honor bound to let that person see it first.  We were sitting there with the checkbook practically in hand. There was no way to argue with his position as he felt like he was doing the right thing. He and Mike shook hands with his promise that should the other ‘sale’ fall through, we would have the boat. We walked away feeling just about as low as dirt.

It’s just about killing me! This is the perfect boat for our son. It’s clean, comfortable, in excellent condition, and sail ready. It’s also in our budget.  I’m probably not going to be getting much sleep until after Tuesday, when this other person is supposed to come see the boat. So what I need from all of you readers is to ‘believe’. Prayers would not come amiss here. BELIEVE and PRAY that this boat is meant for Andrew, and that he will be the proud owner of this great little Ericson 25 from Gig Harbor by July 3, 2012. Be specific in your prayers!  The boat has no name, but Andrew would consider calling it Sea Monkey, so you can use that name in your prayers.  And we’ll keep you informed about the progress. Meanwhile, my stomach really hurts. And I feel a headache coming on. It’s impossible to truly cut that umbilical cord, I guess.

And I do not even want to THINK about what it’s going to be like when we really start shopping for our own boat. We are going to look at a Cal 39 with the perfect layout that just came on the market this week. ARRGGHH!