We took a break. It seemed like a good time. Our “delivery” had not been the relaxing, fabulous time we (well, I anyway) had anticipated. Perhaps, we thought, we had made a huge mistake and this lifestyle wasn’t for us. This seemed like a good time to reflect before we forged ahead. True, we HAD already bought the boat. But we could resell it and probably not lose a lot of money. On the other hand, once we started upgrading and refitting Destiny, that was money we were not likely to recoup at resale.
So, with Destiny safely on the hard, we resumed our “normal” lives and processed the experience. We also decided to “fast-forward” and take a stab at seeing what liveaboard life would REALLY be like once we were on our way. We chartered. Returning to the San Juan Islands where we took our sailing courses, we set out on a 10-day charter. We chartered the same boat we had been on for our class, so we already knew her and we would be cruising familiar waters. It seemed like a reasonable way to see if we could get our groove back. Granted, it eliminated the problems of repairs and maintenance and we of course knew there was an end date. But still…
We had a great time. We purposely stayed away from populated areas We cruised around isolated areas in the San Juan and Gulf Islands, hiked a lot, and took in the sites. We were on the hook (at anchor) every night for the whole time, did all our own food, and saw almost no one. The downside: it was more motoring than sailing. But we loved it.
We CAN do this, we decided.
WE’RE BACK BABY!
Of course, now we had to refit our boat from 1,000 miles away.
Step one was to find someone to do/manage the work. We got a line on a marine electrician/rigger in the area. He came very highly recommended: everyone that had had him work on their boat was thrilled. We called him up. No answer. We emailed. We texted. We called. We emailed. We texted. Crickets. NOT a good sign. The manager of the yard said “He’s just really busy.” “Great” I said, “who else is there?” “No one” was the reply. Great. Super. I also called a marine plumbing contractor. I managed to speak to him at least. I engaged him to replace the heads in the boat and he said he would hook me up with the other guy. Great! But I heard nothing! Weeks went by. Then a month. We started talking about re-launching and moving her elsewhere.
Then, I got a call out of the blue. “Hi Bob, I’m here at your boat. Can we talk?”
Yes! YES! Absolutely! I am dropping everything and talking to you right now!
We were in business. And about to get a lesson in how quickly things can spiral on old boats.
“Can we talk?” was about to become a hated phrase.
Buckle up, Buttercup!
