Marinas, docks, and boatyards have always fascinated me. They are the start
and hopefully end of all sea voyage. All sizes, shapes, and material are used to make floating devices, more or less seaworthy, but with the same hope to travel the seas.
By meeting people in different marinas in different corners of the world, I come to realize there are several types of so-called sailors. Some people enjoy working on boats while others prefer sailing boats. There is nothing wrong with neither of those choices as long as you don’t expect the first one to leave the dock and the other to perform extensive maintenance.
Wherever it is, docks and boatyards are filled with mostly men of all ages, from the extravert dreamer, seasoned sailors, young family on a sabbatical, the project slave who’s always getting his boat ready or the fearless and oblivious newbie who knows it all, for sure an interesting microcosm often bathing in alcohol as the sun goes down.
In the middle of it all, I am too, part of that world. In the past 20 years, I certainly spent some time in those places and, I sometimes wonder: “if only those hulls could talk… what stories would they share?” Hulls on the hard waiting for next sailing season or to be sold and start a new journey. Barely floating green hulls left to the elements or to sink if the bilge pump ever fails or a hurricane comes by. Floating apartment for elderly (penniless) war vets, occasional divorcee left with his fiberglass mistress. Shiny ones who never leave the harbor but are vigorously scrubbed every weekend.
As the tides swing in and out, boats come and go in a ballet of farewell and welcome. New faces arriving that might turn into friends before they leave unless I go first. Goodbyes are never easy so you convince yourself you’ll see each other again somewhere.
So, how do you know you are ready to go…?
Catch my answer in my next post soon. Subscribe by email.