Evolution
Your first brush with danger is the "Romantic Visionary" phase. Boatless but dreaming, the untarnished luster of your perceived ideal will magnetically distort your reality compass. If you don't bail out here, you're hooked. Next comes the "Planning/Happy Sacrifice" phase. As the current of dreams grips your vision and propels you willy-nilly, eyes on the carrot, through the rapids and back eddies of unnavigated circumstance, the once meaningful tangibles of possessions, security, and Establishment values will slough away. One day, suddenly, you'll grind aground on the sandbar of the third quarter... Boat Ownership.
This is where the dream meets reality. Most folks spend a lot of time here struggling to adjust. When they finally get off, it's either happily and more wisely back into the stream, for a lifetime of living, or straight to the nearest dock, and back to existence. Perhaps even, solitary existence!
It is during this period of adjustment, when most of the 'couple confrontations', and life-style changes occur. A lot of wrong turns happen here. One of them can be moving aboard... especially if you're married. At some point, every couple will enter that intersection where their joint dream emerges as two separate visions! Every couple usually finds their solution, but experience is a hard and impervious teacher. If it's not too late for you, perhaps considering some of the following suggestions might save you some grief.

Myopia
Remember those tangibles of possessions, security, and establishment values? Well, most women aren't as ready to give those up as you with your deluded smile and internal images of white sand beaches and bronzed wahines. As you stumble down the sales dock with your nose in the wind like a pointer on a scent, your glazed eyes fixed on that salt-crusted, rust-streaked, ferro-cement embodiment of Seadog fulfillment, she sees her new kitchen evaporate. As you drool over the ratlines and baggywrinkles, she remembers last winter in a hot tub at Whistler, and your promise of a cruise this year. . . on a Liner! In other words, she wants luxury, mate—and comfort.
Remember football? While you might try an end-run on the comfort and luxury for a little while, and perhaps gain some temporary yardage, you're definitely going to be sacked for a loss if you expect her to trade off security, her prized possessions, and, listen up now - her sense of place, of home! So, as much as you may be possessed by your vision, you'd better force yourself to consider her's!

Tactics
Everyone has heard about feminine wiles. Let's borrow a page from their book. The best thing you can do, by far, is to convince her this moving aboard business is her idea. Don't try for a first down on every play. Agree that "Yes, it was your idea first". But somewhere along that evolutionary trail to her turning her back on her Wedgewood and warmth, you've got to lateral that vision to her, and hope she wants the end zone.
Practice subtlety. I know, it's not a guy thing, but you just can't confront a woman, straight up, with cold facts and bare logic. They have to feel! Paint the mental picture. Better yet, paint the whole house. Redecorate! Wallpaper. Empathize! (I know—not a guy thing either). Explain how well you understand her fear of abandoning her home, and how you are prepared to abandon your dream instead. At some point in the redecorating, strategically 'break down', collapsing with stoically controlled sobs as, first, you seek to protect her from your burden, but then, as she urges your confession, you reveal the pain of your lost dream. Then go for the jugularÉ the long bomb! There's only one thing more important to a woman than her HomeÉ saving money. But remember, be subtle. She's got to believe this. With an exhausted sigh, dabbing those tears of abandoned dreams, mention as an aside, "God! I never realized this redecorating could be so expensive. One thing always seems to lead to another, and we never get any closer to being finished. I keep thinking how much money we'd have saved if we'd just moved aboardÉ (pause for effect). Oh well. Life goes on". Now SHUT UP!
Over the next few days, stall your redecorating efforts. Procrastinate. Redirect all decisions to her. Focus on the cost. Gently coerce her into becoming the decision making quarterback. If you've done a masterful job, touchdown! You're through to the fourth quarter—living aboard. If you haven't done such a great job, don't despair. While you can kiss the boat good-bye, she's probably got the mad hots for her new sensitive man. Not a bad consolation prize! However, if she does agree, start researching the explanation you'll need when, six months after you've moved aboard, she collapses in tears and you hear those familiar words, "God! I never realized this redecorating could be so expensive. One thing always seems to lead to another and we never seem to be any closer to being finished!"

Hierarchy & Comfort
Just because you got her there, doesn't mean she's gonna stay. Do not spend all your time, and her money, (that's how she'll see it!), on new canvas, new sails, new "must have" hardware! Especially avoid electronic toys. None of that, no matter how much it may contribute to saving her Life in a blow, means squat to the Admiral. Which brings us to the First Law of the Sea. The very first law of the sea if you live aboard—and if you don't learn it first, you won't live aboard long—is that you're only the Captain. Yes, you are in charge of the ship. Yes, you are the one she'll hold responsible if you screw up. And if you're careful, you can give the orders. As you become more skillful, you can even relax and start thinking and acting as if it really is your ship. But never forget—in every fleet there's an Admiral, who assumes command the minute she steps aboard. The day you achieve that enlightenment, you're into overtime, and almost 'home' free!
However, there are still a few reefs to avoid. Once you have clarified the chain of command to her satisfaction, your next challenge is to ensure her personal comfort. Remember subtlety? Not here! Now you want overt attentiveness to her needs. Constant verbal reassurance that insulation, copious heat, excessive storage and hanging space, running hot and cold water, microwaves and double sinks, TV's and VCR's, and pictures, flowers, new cushions and drapes are all on the way. Just as fast as your time and your money can provide them.
Naturally, as the dedicated guardian of her finances and future security, you have an obligation to preserve that capital. And if you must spend it on anything for the boat, you should always consult with the Admiral and get her blessing first. And isn't it ironic that while it costs almost $1,500 to replace that perfectly functioning icebox with a fridge, and over a $1,000 to install a pressure water system when that foot pump is so reliable and energy efficient? Isn't it ironic that a complete GPS navigation system that can guide you both safely anywhere, even in the dark, only costs a paltry $350? Oh, the burden of command. "Can I help you with that decision, Admiral?"

Compromises
Women love that word. But only when men use it to concede something to them. They're not too keen on the reverse. However, if you've learned anything to this point, you must be familiar by now with the old contradiction of appearance versus reality. Remember the above lessons? Keep her happy? Give her what she wants? Well. . . a lot of what she wants are things you likely want too. While you are only the Captain, you are not without influence. Admirals understand prioritizing. Impress upon her your eagerness to satisfy her needs. Together, compile a list of all she must have. Ask for permission to put your list of desired additions beneath hers. Make sure you have suggested TV, VCR, and diesel heater on her list, for her comfort and enjoyment. Do you have anything against being warm? Or watching hockey? Or football?
If you're really smooth, you will have successfully explained the safety needs of having a reliable autohelm, and laptop computer Visual Navigator program co-phased with your GPS, as well as Radar. They should all be on your list. Take her out in the fog on the Bay, and find an anchored freighter. Suddenly. Explain meekly but sincerely how completely you have cooperated by acquiring everything on her listÉ and nothing on yours. And how, as devoted as you are to her safety and peace of mind, perhaps if you compromised, and sacrificed the Radar, or the computer, whichever made her the happier, could she perhaps see how at the very least, there should be one navigational safety system on her list, to ensure her safety?
Welcome to the age of enlightenment. Just remember, while you're polishing all that brass... you're only afloat as long as you keep polishing the Admiral.