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I come in out of the poring rain, my awning is up and I’m pleased.  Stripping my soaking clothes off I remember the days before I had this simple little jewel.  The smallest additions always make the biggest improvements but it takes time.  I throw my cold heavy clothes into a pile on the cabin sole and slip into my sailing kilt, warm and comfy it’s also my favorite color, purple, I live in this thing.  Big thick socks and my thick red poofy and I slowly start to warm my frozen bones.

The kettle starts to whistle, the cup warms my fingers, it’s thick black contents warm my soul. I hear a ding on my phone, it’s Chelsea.  I met her serveral years ago in the boatyard, while every perverted man in sight stumbled over themselves Insisting she do everything his way, the wrong way, I ignored her and went about my business.  Later that evening I dropped a bottle of wine in her cockpit with a note of encouragement and no signature.  An hour later she came by to inquire and thank me.  We had a fling that turned into a friendship.  I never told her how to do anything but often at her request I showed her how I do things.  Now serveral years later the message reads, still in the damn boatyard, on the verge of giving up and a sad face emoticon with little tears.  I call her immediately and give her a friendly swat on the ass.  Any fool can buy a boat, the hard work comes once you own this old rotting hunk of metal, glass and wood.  It’s easy to lose motivation in a lonely boatyard as the bills pile and for every job completed two more show up. I offer to come out help her launch and bring her to the islands to finish the boat. I’m proud of her when she declines, this is something she needs and wants to do on her own.  She goes on some rant about all the bonehead males in the boat yard and I remind her a true feminist doesn’t have to tell you she is a feminist.  We laugh and I can feel a smile creeping in over the phone. I know she will be ok, I decide to mail her a plastic poop bucket with a drawing of her boat at sail to remind her why we all have gone through such hell both with and for our boats. It’s always worth it.

Somehow I have recently become the papa smurf of all the young little smurfetts out there wanting help in finding and buying thier first boat.  Let’s face it, we live in a male dominated society but I think that is changing and I’m all for it.  I’d love to lay around on deck in my mankini sipping on coconut water while my bilge babe runs the ship. The calls and emails continue to flood in and I give each of them my undivided attention.  Nothing about buying, owning or sailing a boat is easy but the payoff is priceless.  Be-it an 8′ dink or a real micro cruiser you will never forget your first love.  To all you little smurfetts out there wondering if you can or should buy your first boat I say dive in, this is not and never will be a mans sport or lifestyle, is a sailors life. My all time favorite sailing blogess is Linda, start at the beginning and read every word..if you have any awesome sailorette blogs to share and I know there are many out there please feel free to share them for all those newbies with boobies out there.

“Now is no time to think of what you do not have. Think of what you can do  with that there is”  

― Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man and the Sea

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