The Liveaboard Life - Maintenance and Other Ugly Truths

When I tell people I'm a liveaboard--I live full time on a CT-56 sailboat with no ties to land except for the occasional storage unit and my car--there are several common responses.

1. How to you stay warm?  (Boston in the winter - A: I turn up the thermostat)
2. What do you do about Internet? (A: Thank you MiFi [Mobile Wifi] - as a computer professional, I can take them everywhere)
3. What do you do about clothes and storage?  I'd never have room for all my shoes (A: I got nothin.'  My shoe collection went from over 80 pairs to a cap at 12.  It's been creeping up, but I'm attending meetings for the addicton...)
4. "A boat is a hole in the water you throw money into..."
5. And, "To experience life on a boat, go into your shower in a raincoat, turn on the water and throw money around..."

Have to admit, the last two comments irritate me.  #5 is just stupid.  Sorry, but it is.  How can you compare wearing a raincoat in a shower to the lovely and serene experience that is sailing?  Maybe I've lost touch with land, but the last time I stayed with friends they didn't have sunsets, dolphins, clipper ships or the mournful cry of seagulls in their bathrooms, let alone their showers.  Guess I have the wrong friends.

As for #4, I can truly appreciate this one, particularly for those who are maintaining a large boat and a home on land.  When you finally have a weekend off and plan a cruise, the last thing you want to do is spend the time varnishing and fixing a water, bilge, or engine pump.  Even cleaning out the filters becomes a pain.

Here's how it's possible.  When you're a liveaboard, your boat is your home.  Compare the maintenance items to what you do around the house.  Mowing the lawn becomes varnishing the toe rails.  Clearing the gutters becomes clearing filters.  Water heater fails?  You buy a new one and replace the old one.  Replace water heater with water pump and there you are.  The more you do yourself, the better off you are.  Similar to replacing a roof.  Difficult, true.  Material intensive, yes.  But if you have the skills and time, you can save a lot of money and gain a tremendous amount of satisfaction by doing it yourself.

Consider refinishing hardwood floors.  On our trip from Boston to Fort Lauderdale, a console came loose and screws on the bottom gouged the teak and holly floors in a most egregious fashion.  I was absolutely horrified at what happened.  But, one night while we were watching television and pretending not to notice the ugly floor, my husband decided to sand out the damage.  And, much like refinishing the hardwood floors in a house, it's a mess and horrible and ugly.  

But when you look at the result, WOW.  What a beautiful result!  As for me, I just hid out in the bedroom (aft cabin) until it was done and et voila!  Brand new boat.  

Now if the Swiffer(r) will just do its job.  

Living Boldly - a Life Without Paralysis

Recently, I visited a cool site maintained by a fellow liveaboard - Cygnus III

One of his postings talked about fear at anchor.  At least I think it did.  I can't find it again.  But it's a great blog and worth perusing.

Anyway, there was a discussion about what kind of sailor are you at anchor.  I decided I was the type who constantly checks to see if the anchor has slipped and is concerned about leaving the boat...

This is a bad thing according to the idea of Living Boldly.

However.


"Just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get you."  Joseph Heller  Or "Just because you're afraid the anchor's going to slip, doesn't mean it won't..."



I'm not a typical sailor or liveaboard, if there is such a thing.  I never dreamed of sailing the seas and living onboard a sailing vessel while gathering coconuts with my lover and eating fish we'd caught and making love under the stars on a deserted island.

No.

I abhorred boats and all things water-related because of crippling motion sickness.

However.

The love of my life lived/lives on a sailboat and I didn't want to live without him.

My approach is not to claim to be unafraid.  I still throw up the first few days of a cruise, I constantly worry about pulling in and out of docks and I live in fear of the anchor slipping and throwing us up on a rocky shore or into a megayacht.

But I don't let it stop me.  I push through the fear and live the life of dreams anyway.  Anyone can.  It's okay to be afraid, but it's not okay to let it paralyze you.  Take Dramamine, check the anchor line, make sure your insurance is up to date, and sail the seas of whatever dreams you have.

And don't forget to make love under the stars...