I write about things I love.
As the rain patters on the deck overhead, I am enveloped by thick arm blankets and feel at home as my house rocks in the stormy wind. People ask me all the time how goes it on my boat, my Catalina 38 called Charisma, like they half-expect me to have sold it like a passing fad. And I always answer half-confused that it's doing fine, still docked at the marina... where it's been for five months now... because it's fekking cold in winter and I don't wanna take it out sailing just yet... because the plumbing needs improvement and the bottom cleaned and repainted and the Catalina smile fixed... the list goes on.
Now that it's March, the days longer and warmer, I occasionally take a towel out and sunbathe on the bow in my sherbet orange bikini. That's a lazy day. Normal days I scrub the deck pearly white, refill any empty water jugs, clean the head so it reeks bleach from every cranny, unclog the galley sink, and reorganize the innards so it looks presentable. Of course, I can only afford to do these things when I get a weekend.
The thing about boats that most landlubbers don't understand is that while it can be an awesome a vacation home, it's foremost a vessel. Meaning, boats rock in high winds, often leak, have a bilge pump to literally prevent the boat from sinking due to condensation, and needs to be aired out to prevent mold and rotten odors. Not to mention the lack of size, which can be said to be on par with the new minimalistic microhomes that stack bedrooms over kitchens and bathrooms.
However,I handle Charisma's 99 problems in exchange for simple freedom. I was never one to ogle over cars, and my motorcycle is all good for short trips, but a boat can take you places, far away isles and deserted shores. With a turn of a key my diesel engine sputters to life and put puts my way out of the pier and into the bay where I hoist my mainsail up and unfurl the jib, leaning leeward at beam reach and heading towards adventure. At least that's the way I picture it, like I said winter is cold and I'm not about freezing my ass off.
Owning a boat has been interesting so far. In five months I learned that manual toilets don't like toilet paper or regular cleaning chemicals, 1" drain pipes are the devil, it's easy to accidentally bump the bilge pump switch from Auto to Manual, thus flooding the battery, and the boom is a good clothes line. I had my brother and mother stay over during the winter holidays and the twin bed under the cockpit was cozy enough for my brother, while the table could slide down into a comfortable full-sized bed for my mom, with the right foam topper of course. My v-berth was my v-berth, with a zebra-striped body pillows, black and crimson sheets, and a Totoro pillow for the lols.
Feeling the sun warm my back, I listen to my Amazon Prime music and kick up my legs in rhythm. I have always been at home by the sea. Born by Seattle, transplanted in Kauai, California, and then reluctantly in Michigan, I was glad to be on the west coast, best coast! I can't wait to actually take my boat out! The seafoam lapping the hull, maybe spot some dolphins or whales, skimming along at 8 knots if there is fair winds, hair streaming behind me as I grip the cool metal steering wheel in my hands, gazing out across the San Diego bay.