After several minutes of searching, I found my little family of two standing before the weathered sailboat with a glint of joy invading Melanie's face. A kiss later, we swapped out the baby and Melanie was aboard, crawling about the deck like a seasoned pro, testing and prodding, while Maryann and I stood in awe. I scanned her hull and then stretched my neck back to take in the edifice that was her mast.

"Wow," I said. "This is certainly bigger than 19 feet."

And it was. 17 feet bigger to be exact, and in those 17 feet came a lot of boat. I tried to image myself taking her off the face dock below me and into Oyster Creek. It couldn't be done. Could it? I suddenly noticed the old salts milling about the dock, telepathically reading their silent ridicule of me as I stood there wearing my tie and holding my daughter. I was pretty sure they were secretly hoping we would buy the boat so that they could gather like horseflies the day we first took her out and mock me as I ran aground on the nearby shoal. I casually waved to a man in a faded Scarlett O'Hara's t-shirt and he pretended not to notice.

After Melanie's inspection was complete, she stepped back onto the dock beaming like a cat with a mackerel in its jowls.

"I really love this boat!" she said as she took back Maryann in a tag team wrestling move that signaled it was my turn to climb aboard.

Inspecting a boat used to make me feel like a primate in a quantum physics class, but my association with the Neale family had remedied some of my ignorance and I was able to confirm Melanie's diagnosis of strong stanchions and a solid deck. My optimism in this boat began to grow and when I asked if it was time to go below, Melanie stopped me in my tracks.

"We're not supposed to go down since the broker isn't here, but he said we could open the hatch and have a look."

I opened up the companionway and peered down below. It was a curious bi-level layout with a galley and settee that stood a step above a lower berth. Beyond this were the head and then the V-berth. By all appearances, it was unique and most importantly, intact, festooned with a stained glass depiction of a boat at sail, facing outwards toward the cockpit. I was starting to fall in love too.

"When can we go down and dig through the bilges?" I asked Melanie anxiously.

"Saturday."

To be continued one more time...

BOAT GIRL: A Memoir of Youth, Love & Fiberglass by Melanie Neale is now available through Amazon.com and BarnesandNoble.com in both print and e-book for Kindle and Nook users. Not into online shopping? You can also ask for Boat Girl in person at your local bookstore.
While you're at it, please like our page on Facebook Sailing with "Boat Girl" Melanie Neale and Will McLendon.