It all started with an off-hand comment. Or rather, a friend went for it first, but really, the comment was the turning point. “Maybe we should get a sailboat, I said,” mostly kidding. A “you’re crazy,” or a “no way,” and that would’ve been the end of it. Instead, the response was, “I’d be in.” That was it.
We looked at 25’ cruiser a week or so later that popped up on craigslist for a couple grand. Here, wiser instincts prevailed. Water damage was prevalent in several areas, what was previously white was a yellowish shade, and it carried a certain aroma. The dinghy was dingy.
A couple weeks later a new one popped up. This one a 27’ cruiser/racer from 1972. This one had a side profile that only a mother would love, but was sleek from the front, and designed for speed. From my recent reading in the Annapolis Book of Seamanship, I understood its ballast to total weight and sail area to displacement ratios put it clearly in a category that would hit its hull speed in quick order. We talked the guy down a few hundred bucks, and boom; we owned a boat.
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After doing a little more reading from the Annapolis book (I made it to chapter three), we felt ready to take her out for our maiden voyage. First and most important, we cracked a bottle of champagne and renamed the boat the "Estelle by Starlight." We then started drinking the bottle thinking that a boat named after Nana would prefer that the bubbly not go to waste.
The 7hp motor purred, warming up gently, while we undid the lines. We pushed back from the slip and headed out to the open water after a few wrong turns in the marina. The weather was cloudy and we were clumsily sailing around with just the mainsail, but the engine was off, the champagne was tasty and we were on a boat. All was good.
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We had some misadventures, too. There was the time I entered the marina at ramming speed… and rammed another boat.
Our first few times out, we misunderstood steering speed of a 2-ton sailboat, thinking that a few knots was necessary (we found out later that the boat actually steered just fine at half a knot). On maybe our third or forth trip back into the marina, we were heading back to our slip and the engine died. At a couple knots, I fired it back up and jacked the throttle so that the engine wouldn't die. I then went to slam into reverse, and the engine died again. At 3 knots, we cruised directly into the boat ahead of us, taking a nice chunk of fiberglass out of their aft corner. We left a note on the boat, and learned a few lessons. First, slow the hell down in the marina. Second, put some fuel stabilizer in the gas tank. Third, pass it forward on the water. We tried paying, or helping repair the boat that we hit, and were flatly refused. "Shit happens" was their response, "thanks for being honest."
Speaking of shit, another time we learned about marine plumbing. We took a large group out for a sail on Lake Washington. It was a beautiful day, we enjoyed long beautiful runs tacking across the Northern part of the lake. We enjoyed the weather, the company, a few beverages, and some classy boat food (cheese, olives, and potato chips). As the night was dying down and we motored back to the marina, someone on the inside of the boat mentioned some dripping in the cabin. Upon investigating further, it turned out that the liquid also smelled a fair bit. Turns out that we should've taken the initiative to call the pump out service a little earlier. Luckily, a gallon or so of bleach and the boat was good as new.
Lastly, and I'm not sure this fully qualifies as a misadventure, but we did manage to get hit by an Argosy Cruise boat once. It was during the Christmas parade of boats. We had Christmas lights strung up on the fore and aft stays, mulled wine in thermoses and plenty of other holiday foods and libations. A dozen or so people were piled on the boat, three of them dressed as the Wise men. As we were lining up to start the parade, we were dodging boats left and right, all while dealing with a surprisingly strong current. We had managed to avoid all other boats successfully as we circled around, and finally the parade was beginning. Excited to actually start moving and spread out the boats, we headed toward the canal. As we pulled forward a 100' Argosy cruise boat to our port side started to turn into the canal as well. It's aft-end swung out and kissed the side of our boat leaving a nice black rubber streak. No harm was done, except maybe to Estelle's pride being pushed around by the big guys. That lesson was clearer: learn better management of the boat, hang back during parades, and steer clear of the bigger boats.
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We learned a lot over the year and the best days were truly incredible. They say the second best day in the life of a boat owner is the day you buy the boat; the best day being when you sell it. In our case, I'd highlight the days where we had long cruises on the lake in warm weather, good wind, and better friends. The best day in my mind is likely an amalgamation of days. Sneaking out after work for a quick afternoon sail on Lake Union. Long days on Lake Washington with Mt. Rainier in full view, cruising at hull speed, maybe with a beer in hand at the tiller, or potentially hopping in the warm water and getting pulled along by the boat. There was the day we played around going wing on wing, the fore and mainsails spread to either side of the boat, heading straight down wind. In the end, we didn't quite have the confidence to lift the spinnaker and a solid multiday voyage wasn't in the cards for us either that year. We sold the boat happy with our experience, but still have a need to learn more someday.
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