who else is in love with there yacht

don't tell my partner!!

So much so that my relationship is at strain as I want to move back onboard !!!

I'm such a complete sook I even get emotionally attached to some of my windsurfer sails. On a deep level I struggle to comprehend that any sailing craft lacks a soul; .it just seems so obvious that they are more alive than plenty of people I meet. Yes, it's illogical but so what, I'm bonkers that way.

In some ways I really should move up to a newer boat. These days they are so cheap that you can easily buy a damn fine boat for the price of upgrading a 40+ year old timber boat, but my heart just won't let me.

I'm also lucky because in many ways my boat is objectively well suited to me; she's dirt cheap to run, big enough, shallow enough to get over our bar more easily, seaworthy enough for the offshore stuff, and quick for a 28'er with full accommodation. And I have the bonus that one of our daughters has said that the boat cannot be sold, but has to be given to her - so I know that even if I did buy another boat I's still have to maintain my current one.

Years ago I had a really cruddy Laser I bought just to keep my hand in. I traded it in for one that was being wrecked for parts. The deal was that one of them had to go, so it was a complete Sophie's choice. The dealer took my old boat and dragged it up and down the sailing club driveway behind his car to wreck the hull and I'm sure I could feel it screaming. Luckily I know that its donor parts got many other old Lasers a new lease of life, but late at night sometimes I still sometimes fear for my soul when I recall it sitting there, looking at me when it realised its fate. Sniff!

I said to my wife the other day if i had to choose between her and the boat that i would miss her

Regards Don

You know what? I don't think it's the actual boat that you fall in love with.

My Top Hat is called Dulcamara, from what I can understand, it is a natural remedy for treating skin diseases and chest complaints. I also read somewhere it was useful in treating herpes and anxiety. It does however translate from the Latin Dulcis - Sweet, Amara - Bitter. Others have suggested a transition of Amore - Love. So that's the name it has, Dulcamara or Bitter Sweet.......or Sweet Love......

When we bought her, yes she's a her, we agreed that whilst we would like to make lots of cosmetic improvements, the safety and rig were first. We've done that much at least, and the cosmetics have really not been touched in the 7 years we've owned her. We also agreed though, that we would not let her get into any worse condition than her already average patina. We've achieved that, and made some improvements to creature comforts, but not spent more than $25k over 7 years, and that's for everything we've ever spent on her. Purchase, slipping/antifouling every year, upkeep, mooring fees, mooring services and a re-rig in 2010.

This is exactly how it is though. A sweet relationship enjoying the sailing, and enjoying the great outdoors, the ocean and even the occasional bad weather day. The bitter is when things go wrong that you have to pay for, or that ruin your otherwise pleasant day out.

Where the investment is, and this is where I was going in the first place, is in the memories. Here's just one, the most poignant one of quite a few.

My late father in law had bought plans to build a steel yacht back in the early 70s. In 1978, when my wife was just 11, her mother passed away from cancer. From that day on, Fred became mother and father and no longer had any interest in fulfilling his dream, let alone any time or spare money. He focused his entire energy and money on providing for my now wife. He never married again, although had the occasional interest, but never let anyone get close enough to come between him and his daughter.

So that's the back story. Fast forward to 2011, we finally get 80 year old Fred, who had just given up surf skiing, to come out on the boat. The last time he'd really been on the water, apart from a ferry, was either in the Hitler Youth, or the ship that brought him to Australia from Germany in 1956. I gave him the tiller and said, "steer towards the east of Lion Island." He sat there, as content as a cat in front of a fire, with a gleam in his eye and a grin like a split watermelon. My wife was balling to see him so happy and enjoying something he never thought he'd do. On the way home we both agreed, that $25k was very, very cheap for just that one memory, one afternoon watching a dream of sailing kind of come true.

A year later old Fred succumbed to cancer as well and we lost him, but not before he spent many hours telling us over an over how much fun that day sailing was, and how he wished he could have built his steel yacht and sailed it to the Whitsundays to live.

So, am I in love with my boat? Not really in love, but I'm absolutely in love with the memories she has given us, not only for my wife and I, but to all those people who've been out with us to special events like Sydney New Years, Australia Day on Pittwater, or just those lazy Sundays moored in Refuge Bay eating fresh seafood and dangling toes over the side.

1, The best thing is that when I am on board and quietly enjoying the moment in her company, she has never asked me "what are you thinking?"
2. The second best thing is that she never takes offence when I tell her how much "work" she needs.
3. I can be honest when I tell her that she has a wide arse .

How can you fail to love something that takes you away from the stresses and worries of the everyday life struggles, brings you the joys of being at one with the world, for me sailing has seen me through some hard times and is a very spiritual thing, sure there are days that you would gladly sell or otherwise get rid of your boat, but once your out sailing the blue water once more with no other soul around, it is all forgotten and you feel truly free.

I love my boat too, and there are bits of it I love more. Like the fact that my engine casing
is completely removable so the engine is exposed on all sides and so easy to get at.
I love it's solid feel when you walk on deck and it's ease to sail. BUT, what I love most of
all is the whole package of being on board. Everything moves. the boat moves, the water moves,
the clouds move. the sun moves.......it's all so ALIVE.

Cant get enough of my boat

Of course I love my boat. Who could not love one so beautiful? I have a fetish for bows...all kinds - traditional, plumb, clipper. In Aria's case, she has a bow like a pretty, upturned nose.

However, she is like a person or animal who has been mistreated. I know the violation she experienced last year and I suspect she was neglected for some time before she came to me. As I have mentioned in another thread, I feel she is trying to kill me at every turn. The number of misadventures which have befallen me since last May whilst working on and sailing her are downright eerie. Hurt boats hurt people. What we experienced last year affected me so that I could not bear to go near Aria for some time after the dust settled. She clearly has not forgiven me yet.

I'm not willing to give up on her just yet, though. I'm a sucker for a stray, for the underprivileged, for the underdog. Often, my naivety and gullibilty comes back to bite me on the bum. Other times, I experience treasures in life.

I bought the Folkboat with the intention of her being my 'forever boat', the one I could manage physically into my old age. The boat I could sail alone.

She needs to be denamed and renamed; maybe some kind of spiritual cleansing - the hippie gurus tell me sage smudge sticks are the way to go....I'm openminded, I'll give it a go. Beyond that, each time I go and spend time with her, oftentimes bearing gifts, I talk to her and work on her, touching her wounds lightly, repairing her, making her better. One day she will have a paint job and she will truly shine.

Of course I love my boat



Naked....