I can’t stop and I need help

The troubles I face now can be traced quite readily to childhood.  I remember one terrible day when I experienced the horror… That experience changed something in me that to this day I try to make right.  It is the source of deep emotional needs, that I must admit (no, finally will admit)  go unmitigated despite my most fervent actions.  The hole left that day has cost me physical pain, frustration, tormented relationships and much, much loss of financial well being.

oldblocks from F5
Parts in an ever growing collection

The problems started surfacing many years ago.  While standing on the shores of a murky, brackish outpost of the Gulf of Mexico, called lake Ponchartrain.  I would lose focus and stare across the waves.  Standing there as the silt filled waters lazily lapped at a rip-rap filled shore, friends would wonder where I went in my mind or what was bothering ,when I slipped from their presence.  Sometimes I was brought back by the rapid pump of a fishing rod after hooking a small redfish or croaker.  The adrenaline rush of their fight, pulling frantically against the hook and line to get away, would supply all the chemistry needed to stay in the moment.

Later, as I grew out of childhood, time pressures of college and a career helped mask the need.  Unfortunately, as those pressures eased, because I got better at my profession and experience allowed me to become much more productive, the old haunting found me.  I sought different challenges.  Each would satisfy my soul only so much, before I moved on to the next.  Empty.  Searching.  Searching.  Then it found me.

The next week, I emptied a chunk of my bank account.  But it wasn’t enough.  It demanded more.  So I delivered.  The more I gave it the more it commanded my every waking moment; which in turn made me reach deeper into my pocket.  IT lead me to others.  At first I thought they could help me.  But in the end they all served IT and only worked to help keep you under the spell, or at least kept you there so they felt better about their choice.

The orphan
The latest “orphan”

In fact, one of those people just sold me a Force 5 sailboat.  YES, of course, I am addicted to boats.  I don’t even know how many I have now; 4 maybe 5.  And I am considering buying another one for parts (at least that is what I am telling myself).  This past weekend the innocent force 5 required me to work on it for so long and with such intensity (check out intensity sails for some bargains on Force 5 parts), that I could barely stand on Monday much less walk.

I already had boat projects on my Catalina 25 and my Key West Sportsman.  I did not need another project boat; but I can’t stop.  At the low point after serving my new master all weekend I realized why I did it.  Each boat is an orphan that I adopt and try to put right.  In each, I find short cuts that previous owners took in an attempt to save themselves time or money.  But after each “fix” they found their “baby” a little less tolerable and after so many they just walked away, abandoned, used up and unwanted.  Its probably the only way out.  Make substandard repairs.  Each one bites away a small piece of the boats holding power on ones imagination and subconscious, until finally they can safely leave the vessel without remorse.

I think I will take a different tack.  When I find them at their lowest I fix them (do not try this on people, only boats).  I back out the harm: remove rotted wood, cut out the old corks someone stuff in a drain hole, grind out delaminated glass and replace with new.  Eventually, with effort, some blood and money the boat comes back to life.  Add a new sail or gently used one and she is ready to go.  I use her for a few seasons, careful to keep up with important maintenance and then move her on to a new home; thereby continuing the cycle…

A New Boat Cover
First, build a proper cover to protect the restoration

What happened to trigger all this?    Years ago, on the shore of Grand Isle, watching waves, that to me, appeared as mountains, I played with my favorite toys in the sand.  One was a small boat.  It had an off white hull with a red cabin top.  I still remember it, or at least think I do… I recall looking for it frantically, then turning towards the Gulf and seeing it ride out to sea.  Is that that what causes me to do all this?  I doubt it.  I just love boats and being on the water. Luckily, I love working on them about half as much as that.

 

By the way, Force 5 is a registered trade mark of Weeks Yachts or boat yards.  If you really want a new one they might lay one up for you.