Monday, June 30, 2008

The Plan as it stands today:


Even though I finished graduate school a few years ago now, I am still broke for the most part. Partly this is self-imposed; after completing my degree in Creative Writing I decided that a career in writing wasn’t really for me… Whoever said that we should do what we love was an idiot. The idea that people should reduce their passions down to the primary intention of money making is a fool hardy recipe for taking passion and turning it into drudgery. If you love what you do for work that is one thing, if you happen to make money at something you love doing, that is also something, but if you try and turn what you love into work, that is mere stupidity as far as I’m concerned.

I digress… after foregoing the starving writer or English teacher path, I decided to take classes in the sciences. I now have the prerequisites for medical school tucked neatly under my belt. I also have gainful employment. I also have a partner and a baby. We also own a house.

The general plan as it stands today is as follows:

Boat

1) Buy an inexpensive (less than $3000) project sailboat 25’-30’.

2) Spend the winter and spring completing repairs.

3) Shakedown cruise on Lake Champlain during the first half of the summer.

4) sail down the Hudson and ICW in the Fall and Winter of 2009-2010

5) Complete the Great Loop?

Finances

1) the house this winter. We’re hoping that the tenants currently living there will be interested. That said, if there is anyone out there that wants to buy a Victorian duplex in Montpelier, VT with positive cash flow for $160,000 get in touch. It may seem silly to sell a good investment, but we want to get sailing, not be landlords.

2) Pay off credit cards. We are almost there. About another grand to go. Feel free to send money.

3) Sell our car. We’ll probably wait until next spring for this one. 2004 Honda civic anyone?

4) Sell our furniture.

Sailing practice

1) Continue to log hours on Lake Champlain this season.

2) Complete ASA coastal cruising certification this autumn.

3) Practice sailing with the baby.

4) Meg to complete ASA keelboat certification next spring.

There are a few challenges in our way:

1) We are pretty broke. Such is our twenty-something reality. It raises an important question, namely: How will we pay for the boat and repairs? Well, our plan is to put the boat on a low interest credit card (rates are better than banks, and most banks won’t make sailboat loans for less than $5000). We will pay this and the remainder of any other debts upon the sale of our house and all of our worldly possessions

2) Fixing a sailboat is a big project. This of course is true. That said, I have some carpentry experience, and we have read everything we can on repairing old fiberglass boats. Messy? Yes. Time intensive? Yes. Impossible? No. We will save money where we can by buying and salvaging materials.

3) Where will we keep the boat while we work? This is a good question since yard fees, especially during the off-season are expensive. We have a few ideas and I will keep the blog updated as things progress. That said, if there are any people living in the Burlington area, that have some extra barn space they can spare for the Winter and Spring, please get in touch.

4) Sailing with a two-year-old seems crazy. Perhaps, but many people do it. Already, when day sailing we take appropriate precautions: i.e. self-righting life vest. When we get ready to go cruising we will include lifelines, harnesses, etc. Also, our daughter will begin swim lessons this autumn although she already loves the water… Besides, cruising down a highway is crazy too when you really think about it.

5) How will we make money while underway? We have no clue. Any suggestions? Meg teaches ballroom dancing—maybe we’ll teach tango to the yachties.

6) Didn’t I say I was thinking about Medical School? Yes, I am doing just that; thinking about it. Actually, I do feel pretty certain about medical school. In fact, for the first time I can say I feel called to something. That said, I am not in any rush either. My entire life I have been rushing to make something of myself. At 29, I have a wonderful partner, a beautiful daughter, and a dream about which I am passionate. My intention is to savor this for a little while. If we cruise for the next 4 years, and then I go to medical school, I don’t think that on my death bed I will say to myself, “I wish I had taken those four years I spent sailing, and used them for working instead.” I guess I could be wrong though. I’ll tell you when I get there…

7) Why not wait? I can’t. I hear a call to move, to shake, to fight against the false comforts of meeting expectations, of giving into inertia, of falling in with the status quo. It has taken me a while to decipher that message, and its source. In the interim Life has persisted as it does always. But now that the message is clear and the source has been revealed as my own voice I would be remiss to ignore it.

The beginning


My utter infatuation with sailing and all things sailing-related began 6 years ago. I can’t precisely pinpoint the catalyst for my eventual obsession, what I do know is that I was nearing the end of graduate school. I was also teaching part-time and moonlighting as a carpenter’s helper-- I’ve always been interested in building things. The pay from these jobs was barely enough to get by on so I was perpetually broke. Besides the expense of groceries and rent, I was yoked by a pile of student loan debt, most of which I incurred when I was still too young and easily influenced know any better. Yet for all my schooling I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I had vague notions of wanted to be writer, but my reasons were only partly creative, the rest were pure ego. I wanted to do something, felt I had to do something in order to make meaning in my life—but what to do? Added to this, I was in an unhappy relationship with a girl who I had been living with since college so that in sum, I had already begun, even at such a relatively young age, to feel the invisible cords of inertia beginning to wind and tighten a snare around me.. I felt poised on the brink of an existential crisis, and I latched onto the idea of sailing like a life ring, for the same reasons so many before me have. A boat represented to me, and still does, everything needed to slough of the weight of mundane, predictable, mindless existence. A sailboat meant freedom, a home, an adventure, a project and a goal, and most of all it meant vast expanse of water stretching to the open air in which I might learn to breathe again, learn to live again and learn to just be again.

At that time, I had been day sailing, once, maybe twice in my entire life. Worse still, I didn’t know anybody who sailed or owned a boat and might oblige me in furthering my sailing aspirations. Broke as I was I ruled out expensive sailing lessons never mind actually buying a boat. However, like every person susceptible to a bite by the sailing bug, I had the inexhaustible capacity to dream.

In retrospect, the fact that I didn’t have any money was, in a way, a blessing. Because I couldn’t actually go sailing, I immersed myself in the next best thing to sailing, which for me, was reading about boats and sailing. I devoured books on sailing technique, sailboat building and cruising. On weekends, when my classmates were at local watering holes, I sat in front of my computer, scouring the internet for sailing websites. I researched boats, dreaming about the perfect seaworthy minimalist cruiser for me. I ordered books by John Vigor and Larry and Lynn Pardy from my library and kept them well past their due dates. I read the basic keelboat sailing manuals put out by the American Sailing Association and US sailing: tack, jibe, heave-to, man overboard... When I found myself exhausted by the technical side of sailing, I lost myself in sailing narratives. My favorites were the works of Bernard Moitissier. I read all of Tamata and the Alliance: A Memoir.

This research turned out to be invaluable for stripping away some of the cumbersome misconceptions about what, as a land lubber, I thought a boat should be, and more profoundly, what I thought life should be. Six years later I have a much clearer and slightly more realistic vision about what boat ownership is, and what it is not. The first rule of sailing could easily be haste makes waste. I've already learned a lot about patience. You want to learn how to sail? Patience. You want to buy a boat? Patience. Your boat needs work… a lot of work… patience. You are not there yet… be patient.