Category Archives: Sailing

An Apologia for Boat Brokers And Some Pretty Good Sailing

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I am fighting the urge to wax philosophical about the lot in life that belongs to the beleaguered boat broker. Whereas in the past I might have misunderstood their pain and suffering at the hands of the average boat shopper, I am now in a position where I want to wrap them all up in my arms, pat them gently on their bowed backs, dry their little eyes and say, “I’m sorry for you! Would you like to talk about the possibility of finding an entirely different profession?”. I understand their pain. I feel their pain. We are living their pain because we are trying to sell our own boat. Why are boat brokers in pain? It’s because of people, that’s why. People who don’t know what they want.  And we know this because we have been those people and we have caused pain. And now we are getting our payback.

Watercolor of Moonrise

Watercolor of Moonrise by Alex Kimball

How could this possibly happen, you might be wondering. Isn’t it true that the price of a boat is listed, along with photographs of the boat and at least basic information about the make, model, and year? Doesn’t this guarantee that potential buyers will have some idea of what they are looking at?

If you answered yes, a big  SMACK DOWN for you because that would be logical, and people are anything but logical. Just stop right now with your logical thinking! You are actually more likely to have to show the boat to people who are really looking for a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT KIND OF BOAT. That’s right.

 

Here are some examples:

  • The person who has $40,000 to spend, but is hoping your $20,000 boat will be just as nice. Because, seriously, people always UNDERvalue their boats. 
  • The person who wants the style of a 1980’s boat at a 1970’s boat price. Again, photos.
  • The person who really wants an outboard engine but comes to look at a boat with an inboard engine. It’s pretty hard to change that.
  • The person who wants to spend $20,000 on a boat, but wants everything on it to be new. (Cue hysterical laughter here.)

A lot of rain in the mountains created tidal striations in the waters of Commencement Bay on a very sunny Labor Day weekend.

It’s becoming clear to us that brokers work much harder for the sale than anyone gives them credit for. It’s a lot of work to sell a boat. We’re sorry to any brokers whose time they feel we wasted. We like meeting people, and we really don’t mind doing boater education. We understand the need to look at a lot of boats since we, too, enjoy that, although we hesitate to waste a broker’s time anymore just to see a boat if we are fairly certain we won’t be making an offer. We’ve learned our lesson there. We don’t even mind showing our boat to people who are just curious because they know we have a blog. I mean, what boat owner doesn’t want to stand around and chew the fat about his boat? Ask us about our batteries! We’ll tell you…We might even take you for a sail.

But this is where our ‘boat broker’ experience ends. Brokers are looking to create relationships with people, knowing they will spend a lot of time up front and might be able to sell a boat later. Brokers have a lot of boats to sell. We, on the other hand, have only one boat to sell. Just one good, solid sailboat with a reliable engine and good sails that is ready to go with no required work on the part of the buyer that we know of.  What’s the problem with that? We wish we knew. We’re looking for one honest to goodness buyer who has done their homework about the kind of boat they want and who will offer a reasonable price for our boat and follow through with the sale. That’s all. Just one. Know anybody?

Cute little gaff rigged sailboat.

Meanwhile as we ponder the more philosophical side of this whole boat selling business, we ask ourselves if it’s worth all the hassle, all the emotional roller coaster riding we’ve had to do lately. We are getting a little bone weary of this whole thing and the idea of just taking this Cal 34 on the first part of our voyage begins to look more and more attractive. It would certainly be cheaper. It’s likely to be pretty uncomfortable sometimes, but, as they say, the ocean passages are only a small part of the whole experience. And it would just be so much easier.

In other news, Mike was commenting yesterday that this has been one of the best years for sailing that he can remember. We’ve had more sunny days, AND more wind than usual. We had two back to back excellent days of sailing on Commencement Bay and when I say ‘sailing’, I mean 6.8 knots on a close reach, all the way to Vashon Island. Woo Hoo!!  On days like that it’s hard to be upset that we still have our boat. It could be worse. We could own a boat that is so heavy it can’t sail out of its own way (in the words of a certain broker we know). Or we could have a project boat that just won’t quit. Oh, the thoughts we are thinking right now. They do go round in circles.

All kinds of interesting boats out on the water this weekend!

If you are looking for the companion blog post to the article on ThreeSheetsNW about the SSS Odyssey, here’s the link for that. We hope you read it because the Sea Scouts is a seriously cool organization.

 

 

 

Water and Light

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There is something about a lighthouse that makes me want to move in. Perhaps it is the eternal romantic in me, but I would totally love to experience living out on a big rock overlooking the sea. (First…. get a million dollars…) Some of the lighthouses I’ve seen are actually short and squat, but I would want one of the tall skinny light houses.  I would gladly walk up a narrow metal winding staircase to get to the view at the top. There I would keep a kerosene stove, a comfortable couch with plump pillows and cozy throws, a low table, a library, and a lamp. I would be completely content for a long period of time. No doubt the reality would be different than my fantasy, but maybe not… I can imagine a lot of things.

So although pretty much everyone with even a phone camera takes photos of lighthouses, I did, too. And here they are. (You can add them to your Pinterest page by allowing your mouse to hover toward the top of the photo, watching for the magic Pinterst logo to appear. How cool is that?) Our rocky coastline is lousy with light houses, some of which are still useful for keeping ships from dying on rocks. All of them, though, are rich fantasy material.

Lighthouse at Dungeness Spit with the Olympic Mountains singing backup.

Approaching Victoria.

Racing around Race Rocks.

A better one of Race Rocks, near Victoria. Crazy currents.

Patos Island and Mt. Baker

May all of your best fantasies come true!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fire

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For the first time ever during an extended trip, we had no rain. There were a few misty mornings, but rain never fell and for this we were grateful. Not that we couldn’t have found things to do in the cabin, but the glory of waking up early to a sunny day and having coffee in the cockpit, then sitting in the same cockpit to watch the sunset, is unparalleled in my experience. Sunshine all day long with temperatures in the comfortable to low-simmer range is just my idea of happiness. If I can be warm in the shade, life is good.

The star of the day’s sun show is always at the end. Like the final display at a Fourth of July fireworks, Mother Nature saves the best for last. Here are the sunset photos that captured that moment the best.

 D’Arcy Island

D’Arcy Island is small, off the southern tip of Sidney Island, and used to be a leper colony. Last year we enjoyed anchoring in a cove off the west side, but that side was too exposed to the wind this year. We chose the north side, between two reefs. We were tired from the challenging weather we had encountered in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, followed by hair-raising anchoring in Sooke Harbor (when we discovered our chart was not adequate to that shoal area). We wanted a rest and finally felt like we had actually ‘arrived’ somewhere.  We never got off the boat, content to rest and relax, read and sleep. I think that’s what can happen when you are somewhere you’ve been before. The drive to explore has already been satisfied.

North side of D’Arcy Island

Penelakut Island and Thetis Island

It’s hard to say enough good things about Penelakut Island (formerly Kuper Island). It has everything I love: warm water (well, warm-ish…), sandstone and pebble beaches, tidepools, large smooth rocks, eagles, and views. We anchored off the west side of the island, away from the protected coves that draw 99% of the boaters even on a crowded weekend. In fine weather, there is no reason to run for the cover of a shallow cove and anchor with the herd. The reward is privacy, and this blazing sunset.

Penelakut Island, west side

Separating Penelakut and Thetis Islands on the east side is Clam Bay, a large bay with good anchoring depths throughout. It offers one of the only large and protected anchorages on that side of land for several miles. It is connected to Telegraph Cove on the west side by ‘the cut’, a channel of shallow water that allows small boats to pass through. We chose to explore the cut by dingy and kayak.

Image from Fisheries and Oceans Canada

At Clam Bay I had my first experience of having to say ‘no’ to someone going from boat to boat to sell hand made crafts. Penelakut Island is owned by the Penelakut tribe. One evening a young man of this tribe paddled his canoe/kayak up to the boat and asked permission to tie up. He was selling lovely wooden animals, carved in his tribe’s tradition. He had some nice ravens, and a beautiful salmon. Alas, not only did we not have cash on hand, but we are not acquiring new decorative items for either the boat or the home. I had to say ‘no thank you’. We had a nice conversation whereby he told me he had three children, and he and his wife had just purchased their house, ahead of his older sister who had only recently married. He seemed pleased that he had managed to win this sibling competition. He had carved some of the objects, and his father had carved others. His oldest child, a girl of 8 years, had recently announced that she, too, wanted to learn carving. I hated to say no to him, but he took it gracefully and went on to the next boat.  I hope he sold them all.

Clam Bay, Penelakut and Thetis Islands, east side. This is the true color of the sky. Brilliant rose pink for miles.

Patos Island

Patos Island is part of the San Juan Islands, so it’s on the American side. I’m glad, as it makes it that much easier to plan a trip back. If I could just get the boat up to Bellingham to stay in a marina up there,  we could make the leap to the islands so much easier.  It’s an idea we are toying with for our next boat.

Patos Island, looking up into the  Strait of Georgia

And this one from the same place. Strange effect with the camera’s mirror makes this look like it’s an alien planet.

There are so many different land masses in this area that it’s unusual to get to see the sun actually set on the horizon. Maybe this is what it’s like out at sea where there is nothing to interfere with the view. Anchored off the north side of Patos Island we could see far up the Strait of Georgia until it looked like the land stopped.  When we awoke in the morning, there was fog shrouding the land, but over the water it was clear, a strange looking phenomenon that happened several times during our trip.  It  was as though Moonrise were anchored at the edge of a great sea, the possibilities endless.

Looking back over this post I heave a big sigh and think it’s already time to go back. I wonder what it is like up there in the winter? Perhaps we will find out.