Charles Schultz once penned, “Life is like a 10-speed bike. Most of us have gears we never use.”
I think I’m a few gearshifts ahead of the game at this point.
In the past 29 days, I’ve learned about electrical panels on sailboats, deep cycle and “AGM” batteries, pintles and gudgeons (which are not names of fairies from a fantasy movie), what contexts ay good bilge sponge, and what the real definition of “premium” is.
Sadly these days, “premium” is not a financial term that lends itself to fattening my wallet. Instead, it is the quintessential definition for how much storage space I have for supplies on my boat once I’m out on the lake.
I’ve climbed a ladder every day for the last 29 days as I board my boat for “Little Miss Fix-It” jobs, or just to sit with my cold beer and dream.
I’ve contorted myself into strange pretzel-like positions to check small spaces for wiring schematics—all the while hoping I come across another hiding space for food and chocolate when I’m on a long cruise this summer.
I’ve scrubbed the entire boat inside and out by myself, de-oxidized the hull, and waxed it back to the beautiful blue that was hiding. It’s been physically demanding and mentally freeing.
I have spent more time on the “Catalina Direct” website ogling over all the parts, pieces, and luxuries I can buy for said sailboat than I have spent on the entire Internet since it was let loose upon us all those years ago.
I’ve also watched YouTube videos on how to restore teak hardwood, splice wires together, remove wires off a marine battery, and how to use a battery charger.
All of the lessons on batteries warn against contact between negative and positive wires if one is still in contact with said battery. I should have taken the repeat safety course for dummies on that score. Yikes!
Most of all, though, I’ve dwelt on what defines me as I try to decide what name to give to my boat.
She has never had a name so the field is wide open to invent just about anything my imagination can muster up—provided I can repeat it three times clearly (and without laughing) on a marine radio.
Knowing that fact eliminated a few favourites right off the top: “All Gulls No Buoys,” “Passing Wind,” and “Yacht Sea.”
I started a list of boat names in a note file on my iPhone. I’ve brainstormed them, picked one, then another, and second-guessed them all.
I was born in the arms of a good imagination but for the life of me, naming a sailboat takes the cake on difficult
However, I have made a final choice. It came to me out of the blue as I was falling asleep one night. Quite simply the best name ever.
I’m tempted to let the cat out of the bag but that’s another story.
Fort Frances Times
Local News from Across the Rainy River District
