Sailors are a lonely bunch

bristol 24, lonely sailor, single handed sailor, live aboard

It’s nearly two in the morning and I’m rowing my dinghy around the marina back to my boat. I round the corner of B dock and the sheer line of my little vessel is illuminated from the soft lantern light coming through the port. The sound of laughter is coming through the hatch.

launch, bristol 24, live aboard, sailor girl

This is my little house, I think to myself. She’s floats.

bristol 24, full keel, sailboat restoration

My two friends and a dog are inside. They’re cooking chicken and laughing about the French guy on the boat a few slips down that ran out in his speedo to help us dock the boat after we went for a sunset sail. He invited us over for drinks and put out a spread of every cocktail imaginable and high end cheese. With ice clinking in my glass  I’m reminded of why I love this lifestyle. The people.

launch, bristol 24, live aboard, sailor girl

When the yard manager and his crew knocked on the hull at 9 AM on Friday morning and said, “You ready, Captain?” all the work from the last four weeks, all the uncertainties, and lonely nights in the boatyard, the hours of frustration and fears, the storms that bellowed through, the long days filled with little food floated away with the gentle four knot breeze.

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And as my nearly two ton boat was lifted into the air, my motley crew surrounding me, I stared in wonder at this piece of fiberglass, metal and wood that has already taken me on a great adventure.

solo sailor girl, live aboard, bristol 24

To all the people who have lent me a hand, a buck, or a word of advice–I couldn’t have done it without you.

live aboard sailor girl, solo sailor, single handed

“Happiness only real when shared.”  -Alexander Supertramp

crew, sailing, sailboat, bristol 24 , dinghy dreams, live aboard

There’s a whole lotta lake out there

budget sailboat, budget cruising, budget sailing

Now that my boat is just about ready to go in the water–I’m scared.

Sure, I’m excited, proud and looking forward to sailing this little boat I’ve literally bled on…but I’m fucking scared.

Maybe that’s just my way with sailing, though. Maybe I’m always going to be fucking scared. And maybe doing it anyway is what will make me brave.

Pocket full of food

sailing, live aboard, sailor girl

I don’t know what’s fuller, my heart or my belly. All of the jobs to make my little boat “seaworthy” are done. All that’s left is some cosmetic work and I’m splashed. But I’m not ready to leave this little boatyard community.

My French neighbor, John, with the Pearson 35 that he’s sailed to the Bahamas and back with his wife Gaby, reckons if I were here all alone I’d have figured it out. I can’t help but feel though that I couldn’t have done it without him and all the others who have helped me and my little boat get this far.

I’ve always secretly resented people who “forget to eat.” If I meet up with a friend around dinner time and they say they’ve had a “big lunch” I seethe silently. But it’s been happening to me. I’ve been forgetting to eat. It’s so hot during the day and the boat’s such a mess that the thought of cooking something and having to clean it up deters me and then I get caught up doing something else. I’ve managed to get a stock of some quick and easy stuff to make in a pinch (avocado and tuna tortillas anyone)? and I’m in no way too broke or cheap to buy food–it’s just sort of been slipping my mind.

The onslaught of wonderful humans feeding me started with the waitress at the marina cafe refusing to let me pay for my lunch when we went out. A few days later her boyfriend helped me install my bilge pump, a four hour job over the course of two days, and then invited me back to dinner at their house. They sent me home with a plastic bag full of chicken breast in my pocket. Yesterday morning I was having coffee with Josie, another female solo sailor, when I ran into Renee who had bought me a bag of fruit. Just because. “I thought you could use some fruit.” I ate the mangos like a ravenous beast in my cockpit underneath the sun. It reminded me of the tropics. I can smell the melon ripening as it hangs in my food hammock beside sweet potatoes I’ve yet to cook.

sailing, live aboard, sailing blog

Last night a huge storm came through. I could see it building on the lake, marching towards the boatyard. My starboard chainplate, which is what keeps my mast attached to the boat, was removed for a bulkhead repair I was working on. Then the storm hit. I had two halyards tied down supporting the mast, so it wasn’t going anywhere in theory, but the wind blew hard and my mast leaned to the side in a way I never want to see again. The sound of the mast leaning from inside the boat had me sure the whole thing was going to come down any second. But sounds are always amplified inside the boat. Fellow boatyard neighbors Michael and Peter saw my commotion and came to help. When the storm passed they invited me for wine and snacks. After a couple of glasses Peter said, “Come with us to the restaurant, I’ll buy you dinner. The least I could do for a fellow hungry sailor.”

sailing lake champlain

Today while I was helping another sailor tighten down his stanchions, Renee said, “Are you hungry?” and gave me ribs, corn and potatoes he had leftover from lunch. Then he invited me to a picnic dinner with a few other sailors where we ate pizza and salad. Julie and Alex are going to be sailing their Beneteau to the Bahamas this year. Julie had just baked a cake in their galley. She wrapped a piece up in some tin foil and I put it in my pocket.

“Everybody will help you. Some people are very kind.” -Bob Dylan

Log book : Day 1

Bristol 24, liveaboard, solo sailor girl

It’s a dog gone mess! The boat hasn’t been washed in years. She’s grown lichens everywhere. I’m like a gravedigger, resurrecting her from the dead.

Bristol 24 liveaboard, interior bristol 24

The boatyard is quiet but not desolate. The yard manager showed me the way to the bathrooms, showers, electricity, water. I don’t know if the water is good to drink but I drank it, and feel fine. I give him a bottle of wine to ensure future favors. I need to adjust the jack stands. She’s leaning down at the bow and water pools on the side decks, making deep cleaning impossible. My socks are wet.

interior bristol 24, liveaboard, cruising, solo sailor girl

The boat smells like the inside of a tent. Neoprene or fabric, rubbery. She’s so tired and forgotten over the years. I’ll scrub her harder but I think she may always looks gritty, and I’ll love her still in all her faded and stained gelcoat glory.

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She’s not perfect. She’s not a Bristol Channel Cutter, or some custom sloop with fine wood work. She’s just your run of the mill production boat from 1976. And she’s mine.

lake champlain sailing

To think she’ll be floating one day soon. Just to think of it! Magic.

April is the cruelest of months

It’s true, what T.S. Eliot said about April. It’s like living in a lingering state of limbo. I’m just passing the days until the boatyard thaws and I can get on with it–living aboard my own boat for the first time.@misseslorettaHowever, somewhere in between the sulking, I realized something. It’s only three weeks until I’m supposed to move aboard!!!! That really got my heart racing and I cancelled my plans to traipse around Brooklyn with my best friend immediately. There’s still so much to be done and I’m the ultimate procrastinator, especially when I have nothing but time to get shit done. Good thing is, time is running out, and I’m on it.

I’ve gotten my ground tackle sussed out and practiced my splice enough to cut off the used up strands and start anew. Good thing about that is, I can always make a new splice so it’s not exactly permanent. It needs to be right though, because the hook will be dropped almost immediately upon splash. I’m a few clicks away from ordering the bow roller, and made plans to go to my friend’s wood workshop to turn this old piece of teak I was given into a spacer for the roller. Just have to settle on what to use as a backing plate (suggestions, sailors)?, and one of the most important jobs will be ready for installation.

I still need bottom paint, interior hull paint, varnish, sand paper, tools, epoxy/sealers, to figure out the head system (going to be anchored in a no discharge zone for the time being and unfortunately a composting head is on the long, long list), and, uh, what else? I know I’m forgetting multiple things. A stove, blankets, pillows, cast iron pan, tea pot, a heater.

It goes on, and on, and on, and on, and…

Liveaboard lifestyle

Sailing across the Tasman SeaAh, the quintessential vision of life aboard a sailboat. A trade wind breeze, cocktail stable in hand as the boat gently heels over, a burning sunset on a beam reach to your next tropical island only 5 miles away, your lover ascending through the hatch with two plates of fresh caught fish.

Yeah….no. Life of the live aboard sailor is not easy, and many never make it to the tropics.

How about said lover jumping ship, or no lover at all? Mechanical and mental breakdowns? Rowing the dinghy in a stiff chop to get to the grocery store (’cause let’s face it, you’re not very good at fishing, or provisioning) and getting stranded onshore? Not having a trust fund, or being too young to have any kind of retirement plan, so you have to drop the hook and find a job cleaning toilets or slinging plates?

Everything corrodes, money is always tight, and moving aboard a little boat all by yourself can feel a lot like you’re sequestering yourself from society. But all of the work, repairs, and loneliness is what makes way for the great satisfaction that comes from sailing, fixing, and living aboard sailboats.

I just bought a sailboat that’s pretty far from perfect, pretty far from the ocean, my family, or any of my friends, and it’s pretty much the best decision I’ve ever made.

The Bristol 27

Self surveying a Bristol 27Sitting in the cabin of the boat ten feet off the ground I felt like I was in the belly of a whale, swallowed whole by her size. Her current owner left me instructions to tie up the tarp properly for the impending snow storm and left me to fiddle around unbothered. Bristol 27
The first time I ever sailed was on a 43-foot catamaran during a 1200 nautical mile trans-Tasman journey. From there I sailed on everything from tall ships to day sailors, with the majority of my time sailing spent aboard a 22-foot pocket cruiser. Ever since that fateful day that I learned about small boats, size has mattered.
Inspecting the anchor locker on a Bristol 27
I’m not a purist, or a good enough sailor to be considered an authority on anything, but I scoff at fancy boats. Give me something with a simple rig, good bones, an adequate anchoring system and a simple way to charge a handheld VHF.Self survey Bristol 27All signs from my self-survey pointed to this boat being a winner. Yes, there were some signs of delamination on deck but nothing indicated an entirely rotten core. Yes, she had beads of silicone around some fittings that indicated leakage. Yes, some of the bolts on the lifeline stanchions were rusted. Yes, her main sail would need to be retired almost immediately. But none of this seemed beyond my skills or budget for replacement or repair. She even had a working outboard motor and the head had been ripped out years prior (I come from the school of using a bucket as a head, just ask Teresa Carey, so that was a plus for me). The biggest issues I found were rusty chainplates and lack of a working 12 volt electricity system. Both were a turn off, but not enough to pull the plug.

The price was right. The owner was honest. It wasn’t the work that needed to be put in that would swallow me, it was her magnitude. She was closer to it but wasn’t “the one.” Now, I look forward to meeting her little sister. . .

“At sea, I learned how little a person needs, not how much.” – Robin Lee Graham

The 30-minute self survey

SnowmaggedonMoving home at the age of 26 had me feeling a bit lonesome as everything in my hometown has remained much of the same, while I’ve changed dramatically. I envy the loners, I really do, but I’m a social creature and always have been. But with my newfound alone time I’ve found something incredible: focus. I’ve saved enough money for my boat, a professional marine survey, and the imminent upgrades it will certainly need right away. I’ve even stashed extra funds away for some travel for travel’s sake before I move aboard in Spring. I’ve studied closely what designs, designers, and builders have created inherently seaworthy vessels, and specifics I need to bear in mind when I examine a potential purchase. The Self SurveyRecently I traveled to New England to look at two boats I was very keen on. They were in my price and size range, and I loved their lines and reputations. Luckily I was able to replace the diamonds in my eyes with concrete and see them for what they really were…

Disclaimer: I am still a beginner and looking to soak up as much information as possible! If you see anything in the photos below that I’ve called wrong, or failed to notice, please leave a comment and let me know your thoughts!

Surveying the Sea Sprite 28The Sea Sprite 28

Using notes from the book, “Inspecting the Aging Sailboat,” by Don Casey as a guide, I found some issues needing repair that were far beyond my skills.

Her rudder moved easily, the prop as well. Her top sides had lots of little bumps but I likened it to cosmetic only. Her bottom had layers upon layers of paint, easy to remedy with some scraping, sanding and painting. I tapped around the thru-hull fittings and the sounds resonated sharp. I found no overwhelming indication that the hull was in anything other than good shape.
paint job
Sea Sprite 28 rudder

Down below was another story. The boat was out of the water on jack stands, yet still the bilges were filthy and full of water. That meant two things to me, 1) the owner didn’t maintain clean bilges so what else could have been neglected, 2) water was getting into the boat.

Dirty bilge

I knew going into it that this boat had some issues, as it was advertised as needing “TLC to bring her back to her original glory.” Plus, she was priced nearly 70 percent lower than any of her used sister ships for sale. The hardware on deck that houses the boats’ spinnaker pole is apparently the source of a leak that has caused damage to the bulkhead veneer on the port side of the boat, but with a few pokes of my knife it seemed the damage went deeper than the decorative layer of wood. While I was sounding the cabin floor I also found rot on the port side at the bottom of the head door where the “wall” meets the cabin sole. It was wet, soft, and alarming. I also noticed salt crystals and other signs of leakage high on the hull, which could indicate hull to deck joint leakage, but I’m not sure.

Pretty quickly I realized these issues were beyond my skills for repair and I didn’t bother doing anything other than a light once over on the mast, rigging and deck.  30 Minute Self Survey

The owner has only had the boat for a one season, and he didn’t get a survey, nor did he know how old the rigging was, when the last time the hardware was rebedded (something important, especially the chainplates, on the SS 28 according to owners forums). He planned to fix the boat up, but other boats came into his life so this one went up for sale. I don’t doubt his honesty or integrity, and I think the boat is priced fairly. This Seasprite 28 will certainly make a sailor who is a little more suited for the task of refitting very happy.

Another major factor was her sheer size and girth, she seemed like she would be too much work to single hand. The cost of maintaining her inboard diesel engine was the third strike and I had to let this boat go.

I want to outfit, not refit my first sailboat, and I don’t doubt that a boat meticulously maintained by its previous owner is out there for me. In my next post I will go over my findings on the second boat I surveyed in New England,  a Bristol 27.