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Wannabe
Sailor
Fulfilling a dream is
never easy
 “What
are you thinking about?” Mike asked me one morning recently as we
sat on the patio with our first cup of morning caffeine.
I nodded toward the canal and
said, “Our boat and my column.”
Mike grimaced. “Are you going to
write ‘boat for sale?’ Or how about ‘dream for sale,’ or even
better, ‘dream boat for sale?’ ” he asked, shaking his head.
“Actually, I was thinking about
calling it ‘A Crisis of Faith.’ ”
He stood up to go watch the
news. “Tell me how it ends.”
At the time of my last refit
column we’d begun rebuilding from a gutted hull and were making slow
but steady progress from the V-berth back. What we accomplished was
not only strong and solid but looked good too. After months of
tearing out, we’d finally started putting it all back together and
were feeling good.
Then we reached one of the three
bulkheads we thought were strong enough they didn’t need to be
replaced, specifically the main bulkhead. While the bulkhead itself
is solid, the steel beam that supports the mast is rusted through.
Which puts the entire rig at risk. So rather than continuing to make
steady progress with rebuilding cabinets and putting in floors,
progress came to a halt while Mike works out the best way to fix
this critical issue. I asked him why we couldn’t just work on
another section in the meantime and he handed me a book on boat
construction. “Read this.” Um, I’ll pass thank you. I’ve made it
this far in life without reading boring technical books. I’ll just
wait and he can teach me as we go along.
To make himself feel better, he
took a break from that and worked on something which should have
been cut and dried. He hooked up the fuel tank. He’d gotten the
engine running smoothly a few months earlier, but it was still
drawing fuel from a five-gallon gas can. The main fuel tank appeared
to be only a couple years old; bright, shiny stainless steel with
good fittings. Mike cleaned it out, polished the fuel, connected the
hoses and added new diesel. Over a couple cold beers, we sat on the
stringers and listened to the engine hum, knowing at least one part
of the boat was in good working order.
The next day Mike went below and
noticed a little puddle of diesel. It was small enough he thought he
might have spilled it filling the tank. So he wiped it up. The
following day the puddle was back. Yep, the second thing in the boat
we’d thought was solid – wasn’t. So he siphoned the diesel back into
the gas can and disconnected the tank from the engine. The tank
would have to come out of the boat to be pressure tested and welded.
More time, energy and expense. But the worst part – this was
something we were sure was in good shape!
Disheartening? Oh yeah. Then our
neighbor brought over a book she thought would “inspire” us. The
World’s Best Sailboats by Ferenc Mate. We sat on the patio in full
sight of our little wreck and looked at photos of Shannons,
Hinckleys and a Cherubini pretty enough to make you cry. While I
still believe our project boat has the potential to be nearly as
pretty as many we saw in the book, I’m not so certain we have the
stamina, the money, or even worse, the motivation to make it happen.
For both of us, the boat is only half of it. The other half is
sailing and we’ve never even sailed this boat. We’ve been told by
many who’ve sailed Cal’s that we’ll love how she handles, but is it
enough? How long until we get a chance to find out?
As with most things in life, it
comes down to the bottom line. And the bottom line here is that we
can’t sell the boat, for a multitude of reasons, so we’re stuck with
it and we’ll have to make the best of it. We’ll have to focus on the
positive, work our way through the negative and stick it out until
it’s done.
So what are the positives? For
starters, the hull is solid and the boat has potential, which, if I
recall, were the main reasons we bought it in the first place. We
can do the work in small, affordable chunks as time and money allow.
We can do most of the work ourselves and even though I don’t have
the experience or skills Mike does, I’m learning and that’s never a
bad thing. When we’re done with the project, we’ll have a good boat
we can trust. I watched Mike turn the broken hull of a Rhodes 18
into a beautiful cross between a fine sailing boat and a work of
art. If anyone can make this happen, Mike can, and I’ll be working
right along side him. This is something I can have faith in.
The negatives are all a matter
of perspective. The biggest is that we’ll never get out of it the
money we put into it. But then again, some of the most rewarding
things in life are not based on investment return. Raising children
is hard work and expensive but you don’t expect a return on the
dollar; the reward is in the act itself and usually comes many years
later!
And sometimes you just have to
be grateful for the little things. At some point in the boat’s past,
someone stuck an ugly air conditioning unit in the main cabin hatch.
On a whim the other day, Mike ran power to it and turned it on. It
actually works! It’s hideous and has no place on a sailboat, but it
sure will make it easier to work below over the hot Fort Lauderdale
summer.
Crisis averted? We’ll see, but
in the meantime, we have plenty to distract us from worrying about
it!
–
Not-quite-captain of her own ship,
Amy Thurman
s/v Write of Passage
Amy Thurman of Ft. Lauderdale, FL (formerly of Flowery Branch, GA), has
been bitten by the sailing bug. We’ll follow her exploits as she learns to sail from
scratch.
writeofpassage@gmail.com
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