Why I don’t bother with having a boat

Ihave survived another boating season. By this I mean is I have made it through another summer without owning a boat.

If I did own a boat I’m pretty sure the phrase “survived another boating season” would have an entirely different connotation.

Was I tempted to join the fleet?

Sure.

I’d drive past a marina on a beautiful day and have thoughts of cruising the Sound, fishing, basking, drinking lunch at some cool dockside restaurant.

Of course, as I ogled the rows upon rows of gleaming white vessels gently bobbing in their berths, I always have another thought as well: There is something going on out there in the economy that I’m not in on.

Boats are expensive to buy, to run and to maintain.

My favorite definition of sailing describes the experience as “like standing in a cold shower ripping up

THERE IS SOMETHING GOING ON OUT THERE IN THE ECONOMY THAT I’M NOT IN ON.

hundred- dollar bills.”

I suppose I should note that I am not watercraft free. I own a kayak, but I don’t consider that a boat.

My definition of a boat is something that comes with an engine, aggravation and downtime.

It has been my observation that no matter how large or how modest a craft you own, from a yacht to a two- person fishing boat, there is always a problem with it.

This bring to mind the oft- quoted refrain:

A boat owner’s happiest days are the day he buys the boat, and the day he sells the boat.

The thing that is confusing to us non- boat owners is why?

Does owning a boat make you happy?

When you see people going by on boats, they seem to be really enjoying themselves. When you talk to them about their boats, however, they sound like people who should be popping antidepressants.

In most cases a mechan- ical problem, often a mysterious one, is at the heart of their gloom.

If you are going to own a boat, it is probably a good idea to be mechanical.

I am not mechanical. Worse still, I think I’m mechanical. This leads me tinkering with things mechanical, which inevitably leads me to bring the thing I have fixed to someone who is mechanical, who can then fix what I fixed.

From what I have been able to discern, if a boater is going to suffer a summer of discontent it will stem from one of three difficulties:

They are dealing with a problem they are unable to fix themselves.

They are dealing with a problem a mechanic has fixed but is still not fixed.

They are waiting for a part to come in.

I would think the waiting for a part to be the most annoying. In our neighborhood, the prime time for boating is relatively short. So to have one’s boat sitting idle for a month for want of some obscure bushing is enough to frost anybody’s barnacles.

If there is anything that might tempt me to join the armada, it is the prospect of naming one’s boat. Nothing attests to the creativity and humor of boat owners more so than the names they have printed on their hulls.

Here is my personal top 10.

She Got The House Seas The Day

Bow Movement Wine Down Cheeseburger in Paradise Unsinkable II

The Codfather Cirrhosis of the River Ship for Brains

Now Who’s The Loser, Dad

I don’t know, maybe I’ll name my kayak. For some reason “S. S. Minnow” comes to mind.