“Why is
this never easy?” he asked me as we both pondered his predicament.
Have you
seen those memes going around? The ones that describe different peoples’
perception of a lifestyle? Well the one for cruising might look a bit like
this:
Sure—there are
a lot of pretty moments; but to get anywhere, to do just about anything, it’s
just not easy.
It started
to pour (soaking his freshly cleaned laundry) as we tried to get my neighbour's
dinghy free from the underside of the dock (pulling didn’t work, pushing didn’t
work, setting it free didn’t work). We talked about the living aboard learning
curve and about all the little things you never think of when you’re dreaming about
being one of those boats at anchor in an exotic location.
My neighbour
explained he was transitioning to living aboard (and now his sole means of
transport was trapped under the dock…) How do you stay ahead of the mildew he
asked? Ah, the mildew—I think we can watch it grow right now. Seriously—in a
matter of hours it blooms. We’ve been told again and again we’re having an
unusually wet winter (and it is only four days into the season) but constant humidity
and relative warmth is a recipe for growth--all you can do is keep wiping down and hope for sun.
Then he
explained this ‘weird’ thing that happens every time he starts a simple project
(like bailing a dinghy), “I get into it and realize ten more things are
involved. Rather than taking an afternoon—three days later you realize the
whole boat’s disassembled.” So I explained ‘project creep’ (this is how fixing a leak can lead to rewiring a light by way of replumbing a sink drain...) and the correct way
to predict how long something will take (double the time and take it up to the
next unit—so a three hour project will take six days, a two day project four
weeks and so on.)
It rained
harder and we decided his dinghy wasn’t going to come free until slack water.
So Maia and I made our (wet) way home and he headed off for coffee—thinking when
he got the dinghy free he might need a new cup for bailing.
We saw him
later—rowing home. He commented his lifejacket was gone and he couldn’t swim,
so if I saw the dinghy float by without him would I go have a look? Then he
surprised me. “That was a great afternoon,” he said. “You convinced me that
living aboard is definitely the way to go. Thanks.”
9 comments:
You probably hear this all the time--but I love the stories you tell. I've been thinking about this one all day and came back to read it again.
By the time we finally get our boat out cruising we'll be under NO illusions as to what the cruising life entails. After living on it for 2 years while getting it ready to go, we pretty much get the work/inconvenience/work (did I say work?) routine and we still want to go more than ever. Are we sick? Or just gluttons for punishment :)
Deb
S/V Kintala
www.theretirementproject.blogspot.com
The works is worth it, isn't it:) I think my neighbour just needed to know he wasn't alone--and wasn't the only crazy person doing it.
I just love this line of yours - "there are a lot of pretty moments; but to get anywhere, to do just about anything, it’s just not easy." Life is never easy but all the trials and hardships all make us into a better person. It is never easy but very rewarding.
Thanks Albert, it's true-nothing worthwhile is easy. I think that fact sometimes catches people offguard with this idealized lifestyle though. You expect storms to be hard, and breakdowns to be hard. But the day to day conveniences that we've made so easy for ourselves on land sneak on you up when they turn difficult again in boat life.
I love your Cruisers version of that classic poster Diane, very funny.
Thanks, Michael:)
Oh geeze. This is SO true, and the guy is right, it helps to know we're not alone! Your method of predicting how long a project will take is CLASSIC - I will definitely use this to help our landlubber friends understand what it means to be "living the dream"!
:) Glad I could help.
Post a Comment