The best day of a boat owner’s life is the day they buy their boat; and the next best day is the day they sell it.
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False.
We’ve probably all heard the quote above, or something very close. Could it possibly be true? Let’s discuss this.
Has anyone said ‘the best day of a car owner’s life is the day they buy their car and the second best is the day they sell it’?
Or ‘the best day of a home owner’s life is the day they buy their home or the day they sell it’?
No. That would be ridiculous. So, why do boats get the negativity?
Let me propose a few ideas as to why some people say this.
- They’re jealous.
- They tried and failed to own a boat.
- They can’t drive/sail a boat.
- They had a boat and lost lots of money.
- They never played.
- They never used it.
- They never made being on the boat a priority.
I had a boat. She was perfect for me at the time. She provided me the opportunity and freedom I needed. I kept her on the waterfront and would sleep on her several days a week, take her out on the water a few times a month, and just really enjoy my time with her.
How did it benefit me?
- She provided possibilities, uncountable.
- She provided escape.
- She provided solace.
- She provided peace.
- She provided challenge and patience.
- She taught me that I am strong.
- She taught me to listen to the world around me.
- She taught me beauty in the rain, the heat, the sleet, the snow, the waves, and the hurricanes.
- She reminded me of the preciousness of life.
I could go on. My boat was set up for solo sailing and rigged for a woman to captain. Which I did.
So why do I say ‘I used to have a boat’?
She also taught me humility. She taught me what all successful boaters know. You never know everything. She taught me to trust my instinct, my gut. She taught me to ask for help. She taught me the value of maintenance, of using her frequently, of never abandoning her.
You wouldn’t expect your car or house to survive without upkeep, would you? Why should a boat not require the same? It does.
The day my boat and I parted ways was one where I had decided and planned to take her out after not taking her out for 6 months. I did the preparations I needed to do, she was prepared. However, her engine was not strong (she was unique in having an electric motor.)
I took her out with another human, one I trusted and learned a completely different lesson from about choosing who to trust. (Another blog, another day.) This human stated they knew how to sail, they boasted of their ability. (Found out this was from 30 years ago!) Regardless, I was the captain of my boat and I should have known better. (Remember, she taught me humility.)
We took her out of the dock without any issue. We set to motor out past the train track before deciding to set sail. Not much further I decided to turn around (kudos to me!). I felt as if the engine wasn’t holding the power it should. We headed back to the dock.
The weather around here is quite interesting. We sometimes have a strong current and a strong wind. The Pamlico River runs toward the sound and then to the ocean. But if the winds are just right, the water just comes back in. That was how it was that day.
The wind was in our favor to head back to the dock. The river as well. Imagine, two forces. One – the wind blowing us the direction we wanted to go. Two – the river escorting us the right way. Not so bad until you realize you cannot slow down.
The bridge I so often video showing the beautiful sunsets here, was right in front of us. I had already radioed for help from the docks. I had a couple of boaters already on standby on the docks hoping to help me get her in. She just kept going. We passed the docks and it was turn around, the bridge, or the pilings. And for some reason, I couldn’t get her to turn around or slow enough.
It wasn’t fast, more of a slow dread. Still, there was enough power in the forward momentum to keep us moving at a steady clip. Another boater had come alongside realizing we were danger. With their help we managed to get close to the pilings instead of the bridge itself. I was ready with the rope, he was on the piling, and we were able to ‘catch’ the boat. But she was going too fast and hit hard (popping the anchor right out – another lesson).
We tied her in and I hear him yell, “let down the jib the rest of the way!”
The jib? I thought my partner that day had put it down. It was mostly down, but the wind doesn’t need much. That was why we were going so much faster than expected! It was full of air. (Another lesson.)
The boat did NOT sink. And she did not hit the bridge (which would have been catastrophic). Insurance, however, decided to total her. I received from insurance a payment equal to the amount I had purchased my vessel. They took her and stripped her and sold her for parts.
It still hurts.
Lessons learned:
- Use the anchor.
- Use your eyes, and ‘own’ your vessel, NO MATTER WHAT OTHERS SAY.
- Trust your instinct.
- Really. TRUST YOUR INSTINCT.
- NEVER quit dreaming.
Yes, I will get another boat. I’m not sure when nor how, but I will. And I will learn and learn and learn more. I was the owner of my ship, but I failed to truly OWN her. I let others influence me whether they had the knowledge or not. This was a hard and powerful lesson.
Thank you for reading,
Dr. Wendi
