Lessons Learned

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Adventuress, at the Tacoma Maritime Museum. At least Flying Gull isn’t this big.

Now that the debacle that was Flying Gull is almost over, except for the wishing it had worked out part, we’ve had time to reflect on what we learned about ourselves from that little situation. We’ve had time to go over in our minds what it was about that boat that made us go so far as to risk, and then lose, a goodly sum of money in order to take a chance on her, and what it is that she represents to us that makes us still sad that it didn’t work out.

Today’s post is written from our windy anchorage off Vashon Island. We took Moonrise out into this fine weather we have today, 80 degrees and a small craft advisory with winds gusting to 28 knots. We had all kinds of fun getting here, practicing our heavy weather sailing skills! And as this is my first time on Moonrise since the test sail on Flying Gull it seemed a good time to reflect on what I loved about that boat.

She’s a Big Girl 

The most surprising thing is that I like bigger boats. I never even considered wanting a boat that big until I met the Gull. We were looking for a boat in the 39-40 foot range, certainly not 55 feet. And now that doesn’t seem all that big to me. That fact is scary just a bit, but only because I know the costs go up with a larger vessel. Still, now that I’ve been on that boat, our Cal 34 certainly feels small to me. I simply cannot wrap my head around the idea of going offshore in this boat after being on Flying Gull. She felt strong and safe, her motion was gentle (from what limited experience I had on board her).  It was a little like riding on the back of a whale. So you’ll not be surprised when, in the future, we look at boats that are larger than 40 feet. Maybe it was actually because of her size rather than in spite of it that I liked her the moment I stepped on board.

Mike's turn at the wheel.

Mike’s turn at the wheel.

A Lovely Room With a View

And then there was the wheelhouse. If I had to choose one thing about that boat that sold me right off the bat, it was the wheelhouse. I cannot express enough how much I loved that cabin. It’s true that it also presented some problems, such as having a difficult entry that was off center to the boat. But the idea of being able to get in out of the weather and still enjoy a view and be able to steer the boat seemed like a dream come true to me.  Not having a way to get in from weather means that the brunt of steering and sailing many times has fallen to Mike, who has more of a tolerance for being cold and wet than I do. And it’s not only the cold and wet times that count, it’s also just getting out of the wind and sun. I like sailing, and I like being in the wind, but when it goes on for hours and hours with no let up and there is no way to get protected from it, it wears me out. Even today I would have loved to have a wheelhouse.

There are plenty of sailboats with a pilothouse around, but it’s rare to find one where the pilothouse actually looks GOOD on the boat and adds to the design rather than looking like someone added a box to the top of an otherwise beautiful hull. And I’ve never seen one that offered the space that this one did. That might be an issue at sea, where you might want to have added handholds for safely moving about, but at anchor or around here it would be dead wonderful! Whereas most of the pilothouses I’ve seen probably detract from the sailing features of a boat, this one would not have. It seemed like having my cake and eating it, too.

In addition, anyone up in the Pacific Northwest knows that we have very few months out of the year where it’s comfortable to sit in an open cockpit. This means that our boat gets used precious little during the fall, winter, and early spring. So… most of the year she sits at the dock. I guess that’s why so many people have motorboats up here. But we don’t want that. We like sailing. And having this wheelhouse would have guaranteed that we would use the boat more, even if it was harder to get her out of the slip.

These are the conditions that greeted us today as we entered Commencement Bay. Wierd! Seemed more like the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Big waves, high wind.

These are the conditions that greeted us today as we entered Commencement Bay. Weird! Seemed more like the Strait of Juan de Fuca. Big waves, high wind.

Flexible Accommodations

Flying Gull had room for my whole family to be together without being on top of one another. I’ve said it before: this is important to me. From the first we have been looking at boats with two cabins for this very reason.  I know there are many people who do not want to encourage guests on their boat. But if those guests are my kids and their friends, I want to encourage it. Her cabins were multipurpose, except for the captain’s quarters, deemed the ‘Ricky and Lucy’ cabin. The forward berth could have doubled as a workshop. The navigation room had berths for two and doubled as a second salon with a dining table. I consider the wheelhouse to be the ‘first’ salon.

Working for a Living

Flying Gull offered multiple possibilities for working from the boat. This is something that I have considered many times, but Moonrise is not set up well for that. I’ve seen a couple of clients on Moonrise, but it’s just not very satisfying. Flying Gull, on the other hand, would have been the perfect office for me. The wheelhouse is large enough to see clients comfortably, and there is even a boarding gangplank that is original to the boat, making access to the deck an easy thing. I had pretty clear visions of closing up my office when my lease is up next year and moving it onto the boat.

The navigation area is actually a true desk, complete with a space for hanging file folders. As I write this post, we are anchored on Moonrise in windy conditions just off Vashon Island. I’m using the fold down table inside the cabin because it’s so windy that I can’t work outside. On Flying Gull Mike and I would have had a dedicated place to write and for me to do the paperwork ubiquitous to my practice. Mike is a programmer and has considered that after he finishes up being handcuffed to Boeing he might take on some contract work that he could do from the boat. That nav station would have been perfect for him. And, of course, if I wanted to work from the wheelhouse, I would have a protected 360 degree water view. I could keep an eye on the boat and my surroundings and also type this post. Excuse me while I heave a great big sigh.

Just practicing with my longer lens from the front of the boat. Hanging on with one arm, photographing with the other. Fun times.

Just practicing with my longer lens from the front of the boat. Hanging on with one arm, photographing with the other. Fun times.

A Classic Beauty

What else is there to say about this? We like boats that have classic lines. We want to look at our own boat and sigh with wonder.

A Woman of Character

This really speaks to that whole ‘feeling’ thing that no one can adequately describe.  I remember the first time we saw our house. It was a complete mess. The woman who lived there was in her 90’s and was slowly being poisoned by carbon monoxide, such was the state of the furnace. There was cat pee on the walls. They were covered in nicotine residue. It had popcorn ceilings that had seen better days.  And that was just the EASY stuff! I know people thought we were nuts moving from a recently completed, beautiful house into this one. But this house offered things our previous home did not.  And there was that ‘feeling’ about the house. We knew we’d have to do a lot of work and we were right. Looking at the photos of it now, you would hardly know it was the same house.

But it is. We had the ‘feeling’ about that house. It had good bones, and it just felt like a happy house, in spite of the sadness of the state of the woman living there, and in spite of the fact that her husband had suffered from alzheimers disease. The house itself felt happy and solid. It had a good structure, but needed some repairs, and certainly it needed to be remodeled. Now it’s really a lovely home and is an asset to the neighborhood instead of being an eyesore.

Maybe that’s how we felt about Flying Gull. Certainly her history gives her a ‘coolness factor’ that cannot be bought for any money. We like a house with history, and I guess we like a boat with history. She has character. Sometimes that means more work, but the rewards are priceless.

If you get the idea from this post that I’m still sprung on that boat, you’d be right. I have to stop writing about it or I’ll talk myself right back into wanting her again. I hope we can find another boat that has enough of the features of Flying Gull to make the walking away worth it.

Just a small sample of what was NOT there when we moved into this house.

Just a small sample of what was NOT there when we moved into this house.

Rigging? Check. Testsail? Check. Survey?

Now we wait. Tuesday the rigging survey went well. The rigger will make some recommendations, but nothing earth shattering. Yesterday was the test sail and I thought the gods were smiling on us as we had good enough wind, and it was warm and sunny. If you do not live in the Pacific Northwest, it’s hard for you to know exactly what this means to us. But believe me when I say this is a huge deal.

Raising the main with an archaic system, and a winch handle that is too short to offer much leverage. This would have to go.

Raising the main with an archaic system, and a winch handle that is too short to offer much leverage. This would have to go.

On board were the owner and his friend, our yacht broker, Lee, the surveyor Tony Allport (who is completely awesome, by the way) and both of us. This boat is so big that even with this number of people, it did not feel crowded.

Leaving the dock was a bit of fun because of the wind and the fact that this boat had to back out of a long, narrow passage with boats on either side. I can say this: Lee did not die. He may have had to leap across a gap as wide as he was tall in order to get aboard, grab the toe rail and pull himself up, but he accomplished this feat in a manly way that implied excellent upper body strength. It took 4 people to get this boat off the dock safely. It would be awhile before Mike and I would be able to do it alone without having heart palpitations. Let’s not even talk about the shenanigans that were required to get this boat docked at the haul out yard, and how many trials it took to get accomplished. Hints: No bow thruster. Big boat. Wind.

Mike and Tony talk about that windlass. It works! That was a good thing.

Mike and Tony talk about that windlass. It works! That was a good thing.

Lake Union is just beautiful. It might not be the best place to test sail this boat, however, because by the time you get all the many variable sails up and ready you are almost at the other end of the lake. We decided to tack across a couple of times. Just at the point where Flying Gull is getting into her groove, it’s time to tack again. And she doesn’t enjoy tacking into the wind at slow speeds when her sails are not really set well. In fact, she is quite stubborn about that, making one have to jibe and go around the long way in order to try again. Twice. I’m pretty sure that’s not the fault of the boat. I’m almost completely positive that Sparkman and Stephens designed boats better than that.

So I have to rely on the maybe 2 minutes of excellent sailing we got under our belts, at a nice angle of heel. It didn’t last long, but long enough to know that she could do it, and it felt nice.

One of the things that needs to change about the sail handling. Yes, there are ways to address this.

One of  the things that needs to change about the sail handling. Yes, there are ways to address this.

The haulout was not as traumatic as we thought it would be. Frankly, I thought when she was hauled I would consider her to be about the size of a pod of whales. But I did not. She has a long shallow keel that keeps her from looking quite as big as her sisters with the deeper keels. Anyway, Tony took his little hammer and tap tap tapped his way on every part of that hull, marking a few places and making notes.

Standing back from her in her huge slings, Mike and I commented, with sighs all around, that she really is a beautiful boat. She really, truly is. It’s one thing to think so ourselves, but it’s another to see the slack-jawed looks on the faces of the young men who work at the boat yard. They were almost reverent. If we buy her, we have to go back there and take them out on the boat.

Is it any wonder people get slack-jawed when they see her like this?

Is it any wonder people get slack-jawed when they see her like this?

But I am telling you about the love of the beauty of the vessel. And we all know that beauty is only skin deep. At this point it is all about Tony’s survey, so we are extremely relieved that two years ago Mike saw something he wrote in 48 North and chose him to be the surveyor of whatever boat we bought next. Yep. Two years ago. We have complete faith that he understands our plans for the future and will tell us what would need to happen in order to make Flying Gull the boat of those plans. It is so wonderful to have an objective, learned expert to talk to about these things. We all know that hearts rule where boats are concerned. So having someone remind us about the ”head’ part of these decisions is worth its weight in sovereigns.

And there are issues with the boat and with its being the right one for our plans. It would be excellent if we simply wanted to live aboard, or if we just wanted to take her to some restaurant dock and have dinner. It would be excellent for going up to the Gulf Islands, or even further into British Columbia. If those were our only plans, we would buy her without any hesitation. But we know already that there are some valid concerns about how complicated her systems are. We know that the sail handling is cumbersome, that there are too many booms on deck, that, in short, this rig needs to be redesigned for us to be able to handle it with ease. These things we know can be addressed. We know that there are some issues with rot. We just don’t yet know how much.

Tony, hammer in one hand, ice pick and chalk in another. He sails an Albin 30.

Tony, hammer in one hand, ice pick and chalk in another. He sails an Albin 30.

So, we wait for the results of the survey, and then we see where we stand.

Official Diagnosis: Crazy-Pants

I should simply have left the country for this part of the boat selling process. It has been determined that I am constitutionally unable to keep my heart from interfering with the whole thing. It could look to outsiders as though I am still too attached to Moonrise to part with her, but I don’t think so.  I think the reasons have just as much to do with fear of making the wrong choices, with knowing the future is filled with unlimited possibilities, and with always looking for the ‘why’ in the things that happen. Oh, for sure, sometimes I am just too ‘deep’ for my own good, you know? Some of us around here, and I am naming no names, simply think TOO MUCH. As Freud said, sometimes a sex dream is just a sex dream (or something like that). And I will not even go there. But I do wish all the voices in my head would be on the same page.

Andrew was with us when we sailed Moonrise home from her moorage in Olympia.

Andrew was with us when we sailed Moonrise home from her moorage in Olympia.

It all started with two things: finding out through our bank that we could actually borrow the money for a boat without having to put anything down (never mind all you financial geniuses out there who have just sucked in your collective breaths), and hearing my son say these words, “I have been in some scary situations with Danger Kitten. She’s a really lightweight boat for the winds in Bellingham.”. My mother’s heart opened the door to fear for my son. Profound fear. The kind that makes me really focused, really fast, and not necessarily in a good way.

And before you suck in your breath yet again and utter words such as ‘these are learning situations’, ‘sounds like he is getting good sailing experience’, or anything of that ilk, let me remind you that you do not know my son. Or his history. When he was a child, we quickly recognized that it was our job to keep this kid from doing something that would have life altering, if not life stopping, consequences. This is a kid who wanted to build a metal forge in the backyard at age 7. And he did it. This is a kid who spent years of his life making things that would shoot other things. I know that many little boys, and some girls, like to shoot things. But when I say my kid’s drive was extreme, that it included making his own pressurized airguns, and that it included building huge medieval siege weapons in our back yard (and they were accurate and worked!), you will simply need to believe me. There was no way to stop him without killing his spirit. And we knew what we were watching was a very potentially dangerous kind of genius. Dangerous to himself. We focused on doing our best to keep him safe, and we said ‘no’. A lot.

Andrew has many fond memories of sailing Saucy Sue, our Catalina 27

Andrew has many fond memories of sailing Saucy Sue, our Catalina 27.

And we failed. We failed completely. He had a very bad accident when he was 12 and was being creative. It had life altering consequences, although you could never tell by looking at him. And apparently I have still not forgiven myself for that. I thought I had, but clearly not. Because when Andrew talked about how his little boat responds to the high winds on Bellingham Bay, I began to get afraid for him, even though I know he is a cautious sailor. Ironically, it was his bad accident that got our family into sailing in the first place. I do not want that irony to become a bitter one.

So when he began to make noises about wishing he had chosen a heavier boat (which, by the way was my advice from the beginning), I began to think about how we could make that happen so that he would be safer and I could sleep at night and not worry about him. We bought him that boat, like I bought him the supplies that ended up hurting him at age 12. He named the boat Danger Kitten. Do you get it?

Danger Kitten. As clean as boat as you could ever hope to find on Craigslist.

Danger Kitten. As clean as boat as you could ever hope to find on Craigslist.

Please do not bother me with your rational thinking processes. I’m a mother. If rationality had anything to do with it, I would never have given birth in the first place.  I know that many good things have happened both in spite of and because of that accident. Yes, we do know how to make lemonade from lemons. I know Andrew did not let that stop him from living a full and enjoyable life. It did not take away his courage for living.  I know we would never have discovered a love of sailing had we not been compelled to bring our family together after such an experience.  I also know that his being safe in this world is not up to me, or his dad, or even his sister anymore. But at the end of the day, I am just grateful I have my son all in one piece.

So, this is where the whole life view thing comes in and the whole ‘looking at the possibilities’ comes it. I began to wonder if the reason we didn’t yet have a buyer for  Moonrise might be because we needed to let Andrew use that boat while he was up in Bellingham, and then sell it later. Since Moonrise is paid for, and we don’t technically need to sell her in order to buy another boat, it seemed to make a lot of sense. Like a car that’s paid for, that boat is worth more to us than it’s going to be worth to anyone else. We know that boat inside and out. We know it’s as safe a boat as you can get for the kind of sailing we do around here. He could safely take that boat up to British Columbia, or even Alaska. We know it handles great. Moorage for Moonrise would be only a little bit more than moorage for Danger Kitten. You see how that thought process quickly got out of control.

Mike and Andrew on Moonrise, a fun and safer boat in wind such as this.

Mike and Andrew on Moonrise, a fun and safer boat in wind such as this.

Generally Mike and I can rely on each other in terms of talking off ledges. But this time, I must have been fairly persuasive, and, of course, Mike gets afraid for Andrew, too. In times like these we become like boats that are so heavy they cannot sail out of their own way. Tired of the drama of all the boat things going on at once, he took Moonrise for a sail and while out on the bay, cleared his mind of detritus and found that he could see the wisdom in letting Andrew use the boat for his last couple of years in school. We’ll still be here, and then we could sell the boat at that time and use the money for a refit on whatever boat we had. He came home and was certain of his decision. We felt the stars were aligning behind this. Boy, were we wrong. That’s the problem with stars.

So now the crazy gets worse. Mike calls Andrew and says we want him to use Moonrise. I call our listing broker and tell her we are taking the boat off the market. And I get this stunned silence in response. Initially, that confused me because I had just been telling her a couple of days before that we were considering this move and would let her know as soon as possible, so I figured she would be disappointed, but not exactly stunned. The silence was a disturbing response. Her eventual reply? “I think I might have a buyer for you. Are you sure?”  If this wasn’t a family-friendly blog, I would be posting some mighty unladylike words here. Let’s use symbols instead: ***##$^&#(@)$)($%&%&*$(*&#(@#&*(*&$*$&*(^!!!!!  And the real clincher is that the buyer is out here from Vermont and is going back on Tuesday. He doesn’t really have the time to give us a couple of days to think about it.

Alert readers will recall that when we made the offer on Flying Gull, there was also a sense of urgency, that there was no time to waste. Why is this seeming to be the pattern in our world lately? I will have to think on that one. There’s probably a lesson here somewhere.

This kind of crazy, daytime TV-esque drama is something we are not accustomed to in our house. We needed a break. We needed food so we went to dinner where I proceeded to eat unhealthy things, a sure sign that I am knocked for a loop. Mike had crunched the numbers again and it’s just a financially better decision to sell the boat. We need to deal with Andrew’s boat separately. Well, duh.  I know all the money geniuses who read this blog will be breathing their collective sighs of relief. You go right ahead if it makes you feel better.

Andrew kept Skippy from jumping off the boat to get to the sea lions. Even our dog is crazy.

Andrew kept Skippy from jumping off the boat to get to the sea lions. Even our dog is crazy.

So now we have succeeded in jerking our broker around, jerking the potential buyer around,  and, worse than both of those things, jerking our son around. And, of course, we feel jerked around by ourselves. If we weren’t driving this train, we could get mad at someone but the sad truth is we are completely in charge. We are flippin’ ridiculous. All because when fear creeps in, rational decision making runs out the back door. Brokers just don’t get paid enough to deal with crazy people. And from the outside looking in, we look all kinds of crazy.

So we are sorry to have jerked everyone on the tail end of our chain. And especially sorry to have raised our son’s hopes, only to dash them, but again, I look for the reason in all of this. And I discover that I have some work left to do in letting go of my mother’s guilt for a son’s mishap. So maybe it’s worth it if I can clear my heart of this for once and for all. That will not put my son in a safer boat, but it will put my heart in a safer place, and that’s all to the good when it comes to choosing boats and letting go. So, I’m working on it.

But don’t think for one minute that the question of Danger Kitten is a settled one. We’ll be looking for a pocket cruiser to replace her. She’s an excellent little boat but not for sailing where he wants to go. He’s in the same position with her as we are with Moonrise.  He’ll continue to enjoy her until we find the right one, knowing her limitations and respecting them. We will take our time and enjoy the search, I hope. It will have a galley, and an enclosed marine head, and it will have either a full keel or wide fin keel. And it will be under 30 feet LOA and will be built to cross oceans. Like his parents, Andrew wants to sail far over the sea. If we could afford to buy that little Flicka I recently reviewed, that would be cool.  But we’re looking below that price range..well below it. I know the right boat is out there, and it will appear at the right time. Keep your eyes open for us, okay?

Andrew adjusting a sail on Moonrise a couple of years ago.

Andrew adjusting a sail on Moonrise a couple of years ago.