I’ve never once wished for a larger boat while out sailing and voyaging but living aboard at the dock in winter is an entirely different thing. I should be writing, or working on the boat or… but I’m not, I’m surfing the web for my dream 50’er.
The Crealock 31 is the largest boat in the small boat spectrum I would ever consider owning. It also happens to be the smallest boat in the large boat spectrum I would ever consider owning. There must be something very special about that boat to be dead center of all boats that I love. Or is it simply the most mundane of choices when it comes to extremes both large or small.
I have officially started my annual winter descent into madness. If I can just hold out 10 more days I may survive but its going to be a long 10 days. Emily thinks my brain is starved for oxygen from my 8 day beer and pop tart diet but now 4 days off the blueberry delight I find myself well beyond the withdrawal symptomms and feeling as normal as a person can who has been locked in a small box for the better part of 60 days and nights.
I have two jobs, my real job is as doggie nurse and caretaker but I have also been moonlighting as an unpaid intern for myself. Cabin fever is at its extreme but the weather has been fun and exciting keeping me on my toes as 50 mph squalls roll through almost twice daily. As I sit here waiting for the next blow to attack, my mind turns towards serveral larger boats that I am seriously considering purchasing despite Emily’s best efforts.
I recently got to sail a very large new Nauticat and fell in love. Pilot houses, diesel stoves and enough space to have every person I know aboard sounds delicious. A huge square bed would put an end to our nightly kicking wars for that prime real-estate where our bed goes to a tiny point. Why not make it an aft centerline berth so Emily doesn’t have to steamroller over me every 5 minutes all night long for emergency midnight potty breaks. We could carry not only a real dingy on deck but would also have room for a real life-raft and maybe a few kayaks. I dream of an 80 HP 4 cylinder inboard diesel engine so quiet you never need to shut it off and a cruising chute with a foot print the size of a mansion pulling us along in the light zephyrs of summer that I miss so much.
The thing about losing your mind, I’m talking put me in a straight jacket and lock me in a padded room nuts is that you never see it coming. It feels totally normal despite the fact that the ones closest too you see it and feel it coming. Despite their most dedicated efforts nobody can help you, you need to hit rock bottom before you can start your climb back to the top and see the light. A good friend once told me, you can’t dig your way out of a hole, if you have dug yourself in stop digging. Say what you want but it just may be too late. By a week from tomorrow I may be laying my head in my new Crealock, falling asleep to the muted hum of my diesel furnace and enjoying ice cold beers from her reefer and fresh hot and gooey chocolate chip cookies from her full size oven. I’m not teetering over the edge, I’m shooting the falls.
“THE EDGE, there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.”
~Hunter S. Thompson