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started the diesel and motored the hell out of there, thanking god for that fishing boat.
You always remember the wild times, but there were lots of good times with friends on board, sailing around Puget Sound. And I learned too that boat people are the best. If you ever have a problem, someone in the marina will know how to solve it and will help you. If you're at sea and have a problem, people in other boats will come to your aid.
Later on I met Kelly and she moved aboard with me. It takes a special kind of woman to live aboard a 37-foot boat with no kitchen and the bathroom and shower a long walk up the dock. Kelly was 5 foot 7 and I'm 6 feet tall, and I think we both developed permanent stoops from the lack of headroom. But it was romantic too, and the beautiful thing about a boat is if you don't like your neighbors you just untie it and move somewhere else. Also the gentle slapping of halyards on masts can be a peaceful way to drift off to sleep.
Up from the dock was the Pegassus Coffeehouse, run by our friend Dave Dessinger. It was perfect for morning coffee and I also did some little shows up there. We had great people to hang out with, we learned a lot about sailing and boats, and I developed great skills with sanding, varnishing, woodwork and painting.
And lastly was the time I had the boat hauled out in Lake Union for the annual painting of the hull and bottom. I worked for a week and when we put the boat back in the water it looked truly beautiful. The hull was blindingly white, the varnish shone on the teak cabin, it was a boat to be proud of. It was Sunday, and I got through the Ballard Locks without incident, sailed across Puget Sound, and pulled into Eagle Harbor Marina. People were out on their boats, visiting, having drinks, and I proudly sailed in, lowered the sails perfectly, started the motor, turned into the marina, turned into my slip, shifted into reverse and again, there was no reverse. This was the new gearbox I’d had installed when the last one failed. I think we're talking design flaw here.
I was headed toward the dock with no way to stop. Luckily the dock was low, and the bow just climbed up over it, but then it just hung there. It wouldn't slide back into the water. All over the marina, people applauded. "Nice landing!" "You don't even have to tie up!"
Humbling.
Epilogue:
Eventually we sold the boat, and it was a sad day. We lost money on it, because boats aren't like houses, they're like cars. They depreciate. We sold it to some friends, but they didn't have the money to keep it up. A few years later I went back to Bainbridge Island and saw Watauga, my beautiful wooden boat,