DOCK LINES AND CABIN CLUTTER
October 23, 2012
Walk any harbor and you will see boats that never go anywhere. You may also see some that are permanent homes for folks that are neither active sailors nor even water people. The boat starts to look like an apartment of sorts with all kinds of stuff on deck such as large live plants or residue from some attempt to stop a leak such as home caulking compound glopped around some hatch. The flip side of that is some 30 year old boat that is as shiny as the day is made the first splash; a study in the art of varnishing. The former has a myriad of dock lines holding it permanently to the dock. Said lines were added over the years when the dweller felt the need for more safety in some storm. The latter has single or doubled bright shiny lines that may be old but they are clean and tied with pride and are constantly reset.
I was stopped in the parking lot the other day by a family just curious about life on the water. They debated before stopping me if I “am an actual boater”? Gee, what would give that away: a chubby old guy wearing shorts, sweater and deck shoes with no socks and a Greek fishing cap. Seems they were debating whether or not to ask questions about this that we do. They had a few questions not the least of which was about downsizing from a house to a boat: to keep or sell the house and what to do with their stuff if they did so, etc. One thing I mentioned is that while we are living the dream, there are some realities of it. I mentioned that things break and that it is not all just sitting on deck enjoying beverages with little umbrellas all day long. In fact broken things and maintenance in general are a full time job. Those sunsets, sunrises and sailing along on a fresh breeze are the rewards. We spent over an hour discussing life in the universal solvent. Which brings me back to the point of sorts: there is no such thing as too much room aboard unless one has a few hundred pound equivalent of gold in one’s boat. It is easy to ignore stuff as it inevitability builds up aboard. What used to look like a picture from the original sales brochure gives way to the reality of where to sit the computer or where to put the pots and pans. We are constantly moving stuff to sit for a meal or find the doohickey. Our midship head is a full storage locker. So is the aft cabin and now too the mobile storage unit. The opposite of that is a small trawler we saw in the mooring field the other day. It is a 30 feet beauty with clean decks, no fuel cans and no hanging baskets. The crew thereon have been cruising the Atlantic Intracoastal Water Way for two and half decades. This is a new boat to them and the largest ever. For most of that time, they did it aboard boats less than 24 feet. Wow.
I wondered why the boat has not been moving much lately. I was oiling the toe rail yesterday when I found out. When I attempted to remove a dock line, it was piano wire tight. The one opposite it on the other side was the same way obviously. At low tide, they were twangy tight. I released one after finding the knot was almost impossible to loosen. When I did, Why Knot settled about an inch into the water by the stern and the piling to which it was tied stood up straight. Talk about strain on the dock and the cleats. Pay attention Bligh.

Now that Bear is recovering nicely, we will execute the plan to do some fall sailing in the Chesapeake. What a concept. It will also help keep the dock lines adjusted.

The picture is of Bob Bitchin, Jody and Bligh at the recent Annapolis US Sailboat Show. They were the founders of Latitudes and Attitudes Magazine now defunct. Their new operation is Cruiser's Outpost.