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 In the Puget Sound region, it is staying light longer, coats are giving way to jackets and winter and spring weather are fighting a pre-determined battle for dominance. In marinas around the Puget Sound, tattered, torn and splattered blue tarps are being removed from their sailboats. Owners and their boats are being reacquainted in anticipation of a season of sailing. And, an annual spring ritual is about to begin. By now, you the reader, are thinking, "Oh no! Not another article on spring commissioning." To you my reader, I will say "Almost." The focus of this article involves a little discussed, but often practiced aspect of our hobby. At first, I thought I was a lone practitioner of this ritual, but over the years, I have learned there are many, many owners like me. As spring has arrived for the last ten years, I have sat in the cockpit of my 25-foot sailboat, under the blue tarp with its eerie glow, looking at the filthy, green grime of five months of inactivity layered on the deck. Visions of sailing close hauled on a breezy, sunny afternoon fill my head. Between the current reality and that vision, lays one obstacle with an ever-present cloud. No, it is not the commissioning and the associated repairs. They are expected. It is the justification, disguising and even hiding the cost of these repairs from my significant other. Sail boaters and drug users have one thing in common. Our addictions are expensive. Some of you, the lucky ones, make enough to pay for your addiction. Or, sailing is a priority in your household and you can openly budget for these expenses. However, for the vast majority of us, paying for on-going maintenance and repairs is one of the toughest challenges of our sport. My first spring as an owner, I made the command decision to have the boat hauled out and the bottom painted. I discussed this with my wife and got the reply that I would soon learn to dread. "How much is that going to cost?" Ever the prepared one, I answered, "The boatyard estimates about $5 a foot will do it, so it will only be $125 plus taxes and some small disposal fees." A reluctant "Okay," followed a couple of raised eyebrows and a look at the enthusiasm on my face. We had survived our first repair negotiation. Over the next few days, I received calls from the boatyard manager, "The bottom is kind of rough, two hours of sanding will make a big difference." Followed by, "The zincs need replacing and the rudder definitely needs some work," and "She will look really pretty if we spend a few hours rubbing her out and applying a few coat of wax." And so on. Thursday night, I drove up to the boat yard to take my 25-foot lady friend home. As I saw her sitting in the water, all buffed up and shiny, pride swelled within my chest. Stopping at the yard office to pay my bill, I was confronted with an $823.45 invoice. Shocked, I realized these are expenses I had authorized. Trouble was headed my way. Avoidance, a defense mechanism often used by the male species, appeared to be the best course of action. I took out the credit card I use for emergencies and paid the bill. I figured I would have at least a month to figure out the proper defensive maneuvering. A couple of days later, my spouse, the bill payer in the family, asked, "How much did that boat work cost?" "I need to budget it into this months expenses." The silence was deafening. Finally, I said, the yard had found a couple of items that needed fixing and it was a tad more than the projected $125. Taking the plunge, I told her it was about $800 or $823.45 to be exact. For the next few days, I thought hiking would become my new hobby of choice. Sailing did survive… but only because I had the foresight to marry a reasonable, good-natured woman who has a real concern for the well being of her husband. To this day, I still feel guilty about describing a haul out as a one-time event. Over the past nine years this spring ritual has occurred. In fact it has become more of an all season ritual. I have tried many ways to deal with the issue. One year, I had the standing rigging replaced. Clever me, gave the yard manager my work phone and told him I liked to pay in cash. It almost worked, until he lost my work phone number and looked it up in the telephone directory. You can guess who answered the phone. My favorite incident was when my one cylinder Yanmar blew its head gasket. The repair cost me $800 (there is that number again!). My strategy that year was to catch the bill at the mailbox and pay it off in installments. For two weeks, I faithfully picked up the mail each night. One night I was delayed at work. Arriving home just in time for dinner, I was served an entrée of an $800 bill. After this, I swallowed my pride and just began telling the yard manager the situation. At first, the yard manager would just chuckle. Then one told me this was a common experience. For the first time in years, I felt I was not alone on this issue. One yard manager related he had a client who could spend what ever he wanted on his boat. All he had to do to keep peace in the house was to agree his wife would get the same amount to spend.Now there is one man who I could feel sorry for. Ever innovative, I figured if the repairs were still going to be needed, then I could at least reduce the cost of parts. One of my friends worked at a marine store. We worked out a swap of services and my payoff from the deal was getting to purchase boat stuff through him using his substantial discount. This worked out well until my friend quit working there. Back to ground zero. I also have learned to do repairs by myself. The discovery of second hand marine stores, the quality of materials and the deals that can be made are a real joy to me. Hand me downs from those lucky rich boaters! Four years ago, I devised a scheme where I would invest my way into boat repair heaven. A booming stock market made this appear to be the way. I used funds I had contributed to my stock club to invest. Doing my research carefully, I found a stock with wide price swings – KLA Tencor. An initial investment of $500 turned into $3000 within a year. But then I got greedy and decided I would invest to buy a bigger sailboat. "Pigs get slaughtered" is a saying a popular radio investment advisor often says. Enough said on that strategy. On a positive note, I have noticed that over the years, the sum of $800 is not as frightening as it used to be. I enjoy sail boating and the idea it costs money is gradually becoming an ingrained concept in our household culture. Getting my wife to go sailing with me has also helped. This spring, on a sunny day in March, I once again sat in the dirty, tarp covered cockpit. "Well" I said to her (I often talk to my boat), "what surprises do you have for me this year?" There was the usual silence. "You know, we have a four year old in the house and money is not the most abundant commodity" I told her. Again, silence. Then slowly, the two of us came upon a grand solution. I like to write and am always writing at work. Why not take advantage of my love for sailing and writing. The grand solution is to write and publish short articles about sailing. The proceeds, while not munificent, can be used to pay for some of the work on the boat. So here is my article. As I finish writing this article, I can almost see myself installing new Spinlock power clutches on my boat. Epilogue: Recently I have taken over the bill paying function at my house. As I pay the Nordstrom, Penneys and other bills, I realize I was less alone in my predicament than I thought. ...back to 48° North title page. |
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