Having to move again, as my moneys flowing to the cast of characters and things are becoming a bit tight. It’s odd, I’ve always had plenty of money, my family had it, I had it, it was always around and available. This ‘tightening of the belt’ theory is a new and most uncomfortable feeling.
A new living concept hit me as I was thinking out side the well walled world of life in homes and apartments. It struck me all of a sudden. Where had it been prior matters not to me, it arrived and I went with it. I think it had something to do with the vastness of the idea bad the creatures below.
With ten months of nice weather on my mind, I swung my chair around to my desk and keyed a Craigslist search for BOATS – FOR SALE BY OWNER. The idea was to contact each listing, and simply saying “Good Day Mr. or Mrs. boat owner — I’m not looking to buy your boat, but I’d pay you a rental fee to live upon her while shes on the market, references furnished upon request and I can vacate in fourty eight hours if need be”.
Sure enough, on my third phone call — WHAM — an interested seller, we scheduled to met at the dock next morning.
Quickly working out the details of her make shift lease agreement, four hundred dollars per month, about the cost to rent dockspace. This was well enough as the marina offered cable, water, power, mail and WiFi for each slip, so I was feeling good about price. Moving from a five bedroom thirty five hundred square foot Charleston Single built by Passaligue Homes 1998, into a thirty one foot Morgan Off Island 1979. But I was convinced this was going to be wonderful experience, I just knew it.
The first night was calm upon the water, until, the Red Stripe bottle of beer I had been sipping upon came crashing down off the galleys table. I inspected for loose hanging dangers above me. They’re were scribblings upon the teak wainscott that I initially paid no mind to, instead I sat back refoucsing to the notes of ELP that welcomed my loving dog Syndey and I aboard Wildflower.
Laying across from the quarter birth with eyes fixed upon me as I sat and pondered the evening on the water, Sydney for filling my sails with looks of full trust.
Time passed — not quickly nor slowly and when the boat would sway again as it had earlier, I couldn’t conceive of sleeping quite yet.
A fellow live aboard stated “its like getting rocked in a cradle by Mother Nature.” What kind of sleep would the next eight months hold for me? I was nw going to sleep in cramped quarters, enjoying the options of sleeping locations that were available to me, as they’re was seven in total. After moving around the boat, trying out each of my bed choices I easily decided upon the narrow bed at the stern, Sydney immediately joining me.
Waking up the following morning, lifting up and pulling away the three V shaped thick wooden boards that seal the bottom of the boat from the top in harsh sailing conditions. Four steps up and I was topside and taking in the sun’s awakening, the light reflecting upon the still harbor, it was perfect — just like I knew it would be.
Part 2: A Day in the Life. Coming Soon.