How to buy a boat and change your life, Culebra style

No matter what language, many a dream starts here

There are many people who dream their whole lives of buying a boat and living on it; cut loose from the shore, the rent, the mortgage, the whole complicated-ness of life on land. There are quite a few less people who actually do it, and there are as many ways to go about that lifestyle as there are people living on boats. Here is the beginning of one story.


It was a dark and stormy day  As rain was shutting me down at the cart, Jack came up and said he was meeting a couple who wanted to look at a boat he'd seen that was for sale. I figured this was just to keep Jack from buying it himself. The couple came along and they all hung out under the umbrella while I got soaked closing up and finally kicked encouraged them toward Dinghy Dock.

The very nice guy who is selling the boat arrived in his dinghy; boat talk began. I stopped paying attention and took a photo of a very yellow boat out in the harbor.

Hmm. A 'For Sale' sign. That's the boat!

It began to rain in earnest and Vilma wasn't going anywhere. No wet t-shirt contests for her, she said (though I don't think I've ever seen Vilma wear a t-shirt since I've known her). We had a drink and waited for the rain to stop, and it finally did. It always does.

Off they went!

In some places, you'd get a marine surveyor like Tim Davis (who is the best I know, by the way, in case you ever need one in the islands or the states...or anywhere, really) to check out a potential boat buy. And it's a good idea to do that. But around here, you usually take someone who knows boats with you. In this case, that was our man Jack of All Trades, who has probably bought and sold more boats than anyone I know except a licensed broker. He'd already looked at the boat and felt it was a good deal for a ready to be moved onto fixer-upper, and this couple know enough about boats to do the work needed, while learning the rest. But was it the right boat for them? They'd never had a sail boat before. Vilma told us the Spanish word for a place one tells people to go...and it's not hell. It's Spanish for the top of a mast! I'd try to write it here but...I can't. Lo siento.

Talkin' boat

I waited, and tried to guess by body language what the decision would be. I couldn't tell. When they got back to the dock, I looked at both of them. They had that look of internal head spinning. I asked, 'So?'. He looked at her; because when she is happy, he is happy (really). She lit up like a Christmas tree. Yes! Oh, it would need to be made 'pretty' and she could do that. He could do the other parts. She'd drive a smaller boat they have to work. It would all be good. And it was almost a done deal (there's that money changing hands thing).

A new type of life begun. I felt like a mid-wife, and headed home with a ride from Dr. Jack. Let the games begin!

I walked around the yard, listening to thunder without seeing the lightning, smiling to myself about how we are here. The humid heaviness of the last few days had turned to cooler, lighter air, filled with the smell of green. It was beautiful in that stormy way of beautiful.

 
Fish were going crazy, jumping. Birds were wheeling and catching dinner. A family came in on a yola (local style fishing boat) to their dock on the other side of the bay, laughing, all of them laughing. The rain was coming back and it was time to go inside. CWIM was waiting.

Have a satisfying Sunday. Do something.