I have some work that I need to do on Ventolines. She hasn’t had a bottom job in a few years. There seems to be an electrical gremlin in the mast preventing my steaming or anchor light from coming on. There’s a host of other issues that I want to address, most cosmetic: covers for wiring, varnish on some exterior teak, chips in the gelcoat where I came into the slip a little hot… Just stuff to be done.
Normally I would just fix them as I go, right in the slip; except for the bottom job of course (although sanding the paint off in the water sounds better than being in a cloud of dust.) But its a long drive to the boat. The tools are heavy too… Well the cold is a factor as well. November isn’t tough in the Southern US, but is still relatively cold.
So the boat will come out this weekend. But even though its for its own good and will return in a month or two (unless I drive down to the keys with it), it’s just depressing. Not the act of taking the boat out. No, that’s not difficult; that’s just driving up to the ramp and letting the gawkers watch as I glide it effortlessly onto the trailer. That sad part is the boat not in its natural habitat. Its not in the water ready to go. Its not ready to take you on an afternoon adventure while skipping work. Its not there to rock you to sleep during an afternoon nap.
Each sailor I know says the same thing. Universally we seem to sense that we are doing something wrong. But not wrong to the boat per se, but to ourselves for taking a small piece of adventure out of our lives. Sure we get it back and maybe better than before, but the potential adventure lost weighs our thoughts down when standing in cold water coaxing a boat onto a trailer. Feeling this discomfort is critical. It makes us change an unacceptable state of affairs for one that gives greater satisfaction. The angst drives us to complete the work list quickly. She must be ready, even if just returning to a slip or mooring. Why? Well, the boat doesn’t have to deliver us the adventure, it just has to be ready to deliver it. Then we know, “I could sail this to the other side of …”. And some of us will.