Buying your first sailboat – Page 2

360 degrees north

by EmilyBuying your first sailboat, Sailing February 12, 2016February 15, 201610 Comments

Choosing a dinghy

“But I’m going to need a dinghy,” I say with a suspect tone.

“Yes, but I’m going to need one, too,” my Canadian friend replies.

So, we’re negotiating.

When I got a call this morning from the owner of the boat I’ve been slowly trying to make my own I knew that the methodical, maple-syrup like pace I’d been operating at was too good to be true.

“I’ve got a fellow from Toronto who wants to come down and buy the boat right away, sight unseen, for my full asking pricing!” He said, practically laughing with excitement.

I guess it’s true what they say, about the two happiest days in a sailor’s life. . .

But I wasn’t going to let this Canuck swoop in and spirit my boat away from right under my nose. I appreciated the forewarning, which had been delivered in good faith, but it was time to act fast.

Less than an hour later I had bus fares booked and a surveyor who understood my situation, was willing to come on such short notice and not charge me for the entire survey if we decide early on the boat’s not up to par…but I hope she will be.

I’ve written up a contract. My finances are in order. On Monday morning I will board that bus that could take me into the future. She’ll be buried under snow. She’ll surely have some deck rot. She might not even have a dinghy. But she might be mine.

Like what you see? Follow the journey and get updates from the poop deck.

Soul friend

by EmilyBuying your first sailboat, Sailing February 7, 2016One Comment

“You’ve always done everything you ever said you were going to do,” my best friend says to me. She’s on a cell phone in Seattle. I can hear the rain and sirens from a passing police car.

“You don’t understand,” I say. “This isn’t just some job I’m trying to get in another country. I’m afraid I’m going to get this boat but be paralyzed by the responsibility, so it will sit there unmaintained and degrading. And I’ll be living on this tiny floating thing that has become some kind of prison.”

“That won’t happen,” she says. “I’ve got to go.”

She hangs up.

Somehow this validation from my friends makes me feel better. How they’re already telling their people in these cities so far away from me about this boat I’m getting that they’re going to be sailing on soon.

My fears are not irrational. I’ve been shirking my boat responsibilities. Yes, I’ve been working a lot and socializing more than usual—but I’ve had the time. I need to schedule a survey for the trip I’m taking soon, but I just haven’t done it.

I’m going to see the boat that I think is “the one.” So many sailors have used that cryptic line.

“When you know, you know.”

“But how?” I ask.

“You just know.”

That’s all I can go off. The fact that this boat was the first one I called on four months ago when my pockets were empty. How even when I push her to the bottom of the list she somehow manages to resurface as number one every time. How I’ve already started making the list of what she will need right away in order for me to be comfortable splashing her and living aboard.

How her name is translated into English as “Soul Friend,” and how my handful of nearest and dearest mates scattered across this country, who are the only people that I can talk to when I’m on the edge that can make me feel human again—how I’ve always referred to them as my “soul friends.”

The Bristol 27

by EmilyBoat shopping, Buying your first sailboat, Living Aboard January 29, 201616 Comments

Sitting in the cabin of the boat ten feet off the ground I felt like I was in the belly of a whale, swallowed whole by her size. Her current owner left me instructions to tie up the tarp properly for the impending snow storm and left me to fiddle around unbothered.
The first time I ever sailed was on a 43-foot catamaran during a 1200 nautical mile trans-Tasman journey. From there I sailed on everything from tall ships to day sailors, with the majority of my time sailing spent aboard a 22-foot pocket cruiser. Ever since that fateful day that I learned about small boats, size has mattered.

I’m not a purist, or a good enough sailor to be considered an authority on anything, but I scoff at fancy boats. Give me something with a simple rig, good bones, an adequate anchoring system and a simple way to charge a handheld VHF.All signs from my self-survey pointed to this boat being a winner. Yes, there were some signs of delamination on deck but nothing indicated an entirely rotten core. Yes, she had beads of silicone around some fittings that indicated leakage. Yes, some of the bolts on the lifeline stanchions were rusted. Yes, her main sail would need to be retired almost immediately. But none of this seemed beyond my skills or budget for replacement or repair. She even had a working outboard motor and the head had been ripped out years prior (I come from the school of using a bucket as a head, just ask Teresa Carey, so that was a plus for me). The biggest issues I found were rusty chainplates and lack of a working 12 volt electricity system. Both were a turn off, but not enough to pull the plug.

The price was right. The owner was honest. It wasn’t the work that needed to be put in that would swallow me, it was her magnitude. She was closer to it but wasn’t “the one.” Now, I look forward to meeting her little sister. . .

“At sea, I learned how little a person needs, not how much.” – Robin Lee Graham

The 30-minute self survey

by EmilyBuying your first sailboat, Living Aboard January 25, 201612 Comments

Moving home at the age of 26 had me feeling a bit lonesome as everything in my hometown has remained much of the same, while I’ve changed dramatically. I envy the loners, I really do, but I’m a social creature and always have been. But with my newfound alone time I’ve found something incredible: focus. I’ve saved enough money for my boat, a professional marine survey, and the imminent upgrades it will certainly need right away. I’ve even stashed extra funds away for some travel for travel’s sake before I move aboard in Spring. I’ve studied closely what designs, designers, and builders have created inherently seaworthy vessels, and specifics I need to bear in mind when I examine a potential purchase. Recently I traveled to New England to look at two boats I was very keen on. They were in my price and size range, and I loved their lines and reputations. Luckily I was able to replace the diamonds in my eyes with concrete and see them for what they really were…

Disclaimer: I am still a beginner and looking to soak up as much information as possible! If you see anything in the photos below that I’ve called wrong, or failed to notice, please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts!

The Sea Sprite 28

Using notes from the book, “Inspecting the Aging Sailboat,” by Don Casey as a guide, I found some issues needing repair that were far beyond my skills.

Her rudder moved easily, the prop as well. Her top sides had lots of little bumps but I likened it to cosmetic only. Her bottom had layers upon layers of paint, easy to remedy with some scraping, sanding and painting. I tapped around the thru-hull fittings and the sounds resonated sharp. I found no overwhelming indication that the hull was in anything other than good shape.

Down below was another story. The boat was out of the water on jack stands, yet still the bilges were filthy and full of water. That meant two things to me, 1) the owner didn’t maintain clean bilges so what else could have been neglected, 2) water was getting into the boat.

I knew going into it that this boat had some issues, as it was advertised as needing “TLC to bring her back to her original glory.” Plus, she was priced nearly 70 percent lower than any of her used sister ships for sale. The hardware on deck that houses the boats’ spinnaker pole is apparently the source of a leak that has caused damage to the bulkhead veneer on the port side of the boat, but with a few pokes of my knife it seemed the damage went deeper than the decorative layer of wood. While I was sounding the cabin floor I also found rot on the port side at the bottom of the head door where the “wall” meets the cabin sole. It was wet, soft, and alarming. I also noticed salt crystals and other signs of leakage high on the hull, which could indicate hull to deck joint leakage, but I’m not sure.

Pretty quickly I realized these issues were beyond my skills for repair and I didn’t bother doing anything other than a light once over on the mast, rigging and deck.

The owner has only had the boat for a one season, and he didn’t get a survey, nor did he know how old the rigging was, when the last time the hardware was rebedded (something important, especially the chainplates, on the SS 28 according to owners forums). He planned to fix the boat up, but other boats came into his life so this one went up for sale. I don’t doubt his honesty or integrity, and I think the boat is priced fairly. This Seasprite 28 will certainly make a sailor who is a little more suited for the task of refitting very happy.

Another major factor was her sheer size and girth, she seemed like she would be too much work to single hand. The cost of maintaining her inboard diesel engine was the third strike and I had to let this boat go.

I want to outfit, not refit my first sailboat, and I don’t doubt that a boat meticulously maintained by its previous owner is out there for me. In my next post I will go over my findings on the second boat I surveyed in New England, a Bristol 27.

Thorough

by EmilyBoat shopping, Buying your first sailboat January 20, 20166 Comments

That word was used again. That word that has never been the right adjective to describe my actions. That word associated with people who are inherently less likely than me to half ass everything. I’ve never been obsessive compulsive until I started shopping for boats, and while it may be aggravating to the current owner (who I ask to leave me alone with the boat and then respond with a very generic “eh,” when they ask me how I liked the vessel) it’s a quality I’m glad I developed. It’s difficult for me to describe how uncannily fun it was to stomp around those boats I went to see last week. How it made me feel to scrupulously inspect every inch of the hull, deck and cabin. I felt like I was ensuring my safety, like I’d learned so much since I went to inspect my first boat only a short month ago, like a few taps of the head of a screwdriver was going to save me from having to pay upwards of $500 for a surveyor to confirm my suspicion–this isn’t the right boat for me. I discovered some faults that may have otherwise gone unnoticed by the owners, like a rotting bulkhead on one boat. It was clear, that in my sailing education and theirs, we had come from different schools.
One of the owners texted me later that evening asking for my feedback, and when I gave it to him I was reminded of the time I quit a job and my boss asked for the same thing. People don’t actually want to know what’s wrong, and just because you’ve been sailing longer than a neophyte doesn’t mean you necessarily know more about boats, or anything about boats. Although I can’t help but wish I had an experienced sailor and boat buyer there with me, to confirm or deny my findings.
Every boat I call on brings me closer to “the one.” The stars seem to be aligning for one particular vessel, but it’s too soon to reveal anything about her condition or whereabouts. I don’t want to jinx it but unless a star falls out of the sky…

Until then the search continues, and so does my education in the valuable skill set that is the self-survey.

“There are a lot of people in this world at this moment in history who feel pretty lost in life. Who don’t feel like their life has a lot of purpose, has a lot of meaning, they don’t feel like they’ve actually achieved anything…People have gone to sea or have sought that experience as a means to remedy those lacks, and I would attest that can still be the case. If you do feel there a things in your life that you’d like to have that you’ve never had, sailing can be an excellent vehicle to reach that kind of satisfaction.” -Jay Fitzgerald, Pacific Northwest Engineless Sailor.

Good old boats

by EmilyBuying your first sailboat, Landlocked January 15, 20164 Comments

Even when out of the water…

…the sentiment remains true.

“There is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” -Kenneth Grahame

SNAP OUT OF IT

by EmilyBuying your first sailboat, Sailboats January 6, 20162 Comments

When I become giddy over the thought of owning my very own sailboat I remember what my book on inspecting the aging sailboat says, “SNAP OUT OF IT.”

I must remind myself not think about the warm light that will undoubtedly illuminate the saloon, nor the adventures that are sure to ensue. This is a business transaction. Someone is trying to sell me something, and I have to be sure it’s not their problem, or something I can’t afford.

Going to see this little fine beauty next week. I hope she’s in as good of condition as she seems from her pictures. Since I’m a wee bit superstitious I would paint her hull white as soon as I could.

The devil is in the details, so they say. I’m going to look at two boats in New England next week. I’ve done a thorough job in determining whether the boats are worth my time, and “thorough” is not an adjective normally used to describe myself. “Haphazard” is more like it. But I must admit emailing back and forth with the owners, talking with them on the phone, contacting other sailors who own the same type of boats, spending hours researching, it’s been a surprisingly satisfying experience. I haven’t acted this studious in many years. In fact, nearly two years ago I couldn’t even bring myself to finish my Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) online certification, and I’d paid $400 for it.

I don’t have a car but luckily I have a good friend whom I haven’t seen in two years who lives in New England and she’s offered to pay for half of a rental car and her parents have a house on Cape Cod where we will stay. We will gallivant around the shores of New England looking at potential boats for me and exploring the region to see if it’s where I’d like to keep the boat and live for the sailing season.

Once again this entire process is a mixture of excitement and terror. I can certainly afford to to buy the boat, but can I afford the boat in general? Most likely not–I’m an underemployed journalist and a waitress, but just like when I get overly optimistic about a boat when I become too negative I must also tell myself to “SNAP OUT OF IT.”

Here’s to you and here’s to me

by EmilyBuying your first sailboat, travel log December 31, 20154 Comments

2015 was a bang up year. It had it’s fill of tears, but with it came triumphs. I learned a lot about myself–even if it meant just figuring out what I didn’t want I feel like I’m finally on the right path to finding the boat I was meant to sail, and the life I was meant to lead. In between there’s been bikes, beer, and even babies! Join me in this walk down memory lane, and cheers to a happy, healthy new year!

May all of our dreams come true.

This year I… lived aboard one of the most finely built and well designed sail boats in the world. Finally learned how to row, properly. Was the captain of a vessel (albeit small) for the first time.I learned how to navigate (kind of).
20150629-DSC_2726 Quit my job as a full time newspaper journalist to go sailing and gunkholing around British Columbia.

Said goodbye to a community of sailors that were cut from the same cloth.
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Bought and sold four different bicycles.

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bike touring on a single speed
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Went on a fully loaded solo bike tour intended to last thousands of miles, but only rode 100.
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Worked my fourth harvest in the wine industry
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Reconnected with my family after being away for two years.
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Began the hunt for my very own sailboat.
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