Saying No to Saying No

I have been experimenting for the last year. I decided to stop saying ‘no’ to people when they ask me to do something.  The results have been interesting.

In my 'no' phase of life, I spent a lot of time at home and sat around biding my time.  I gained weight, wished I had more friends and got tied up in my own head waaay too much.

In my 'post no' phase I have been introduced to acting in a local theater group, been offered a weekend job watching some new friends’ dogs in their million dollar house and agreed to ride in the MS 150, a bicycle ride between Houston and Austin, Texas. I’ve even started this blog.

That time sitting in front of the tube passing the days away has been filled with new friends and interests. In a conversation with a dock buddy I described how busy I was these days and he commented that he’d rather not be beholden to someone else or overscheduled.  From there I went to the theater for rehearsal and he headed home to watch the game on TV.

I’ve always told myself that I was open to new ideas and things to experience. But reflecting back on that it was mostly talk.

I guess the gist of it is that while I’m more tired and a bit stressed about making the schedule work sometimes, I’m more engaged and enjoy myself more.

I’m even considering changing jobs. Now I’m convinced that really soon now the bottom will fall out of the economy and moving to a new job may not be the best idea. But I’m also convinced that life is just too short to hang back and be cautious. I’ve read about folks that have done just fine when they’ve taken a chance and failed.  They learn and they move on. I’ve done it a time or two myself. Playing it too safe is causing me to get cranky and life’s just too short.

Life on the Dock

Life on the dock suits me perfectly.  The people drawn to this lifestyle don’t care for a lot of possessions and don’t aspire to have the biggest, most of or most expensive things.  They’re individualists.  As my father calls them, “GDIs – goddamned independents.”  Many are retired and the rest go to work every day and come home to sit quietly in their boats, eat and go to bed.  There are a few that are here because of a life-changing injury or medical condition.  All are drawn to the water and the life on the docks. 

During the week the marina is quiet.  The rhythm of the place is different from the weekends. Think small resort town. Folks mingle at the palapala or the laundry and chat. The office is a meeting place for some. The staff is always ready to take a moment and talk.

During the summer the place fills up with weekenders. They show up with coolers and loud music and have their fun. Cars fill the parking lot. The ice machine runs out of ice faster. The sun, the heat and the energy; we all just wait them out. We know come fall they will put up their boats up and go home.

There is a bond among the liveaboards. There is a shared sense of purpose. Boats and the water are what bring us together. Regardless of the size of boat or the investment in it we pitch in to help each other out when needed.

The sense of community here is quite nice.  Never have I had so many friends. Perhaps I should have done this years ago.  Stories are swapped and everyone nods knowing they’ve heard this one before but no one stops the storyteller.

A couple of years ago I had a raging case of the flu. I was miserable. It kept me down for most of a week. About two days in, the marina manager came by with some hot, homemade soup and a box of crackers. Boy, was that a welcome sight! She checked up on me every day till I was able to get out on my own.

Most folks just don’t get the concept of living on a boat. I generally play it down. It’s nothing I’m ashamed of; it’s just difficult to explain. For 99.999 percent of people a house or apartment is all they think of. They want a bigger one or they’re looking for another one that’s just so or something like that. To shed most of your possessions and move into the space of a smallish RV is just crazy talk. I found it liberating. To know that I can go anyplace on the planet gives me a broader perspective. Since the Earth is 75% covered by water and the wind is an inexhaustible resource, I can literally go anywhere.

Sure. There’s a lot to do and learn but it’s possible. And that makes all the difference.

I'm Gonna Dance With the Gal I Brung to the Party

I bought my sailboat with the intention of taking it to the islands and living on it for an extended period. Of course, that begs the conversation about what a good liveaboard boat would be and what is the ‘perfect’ cruising boat is. You can waste a lot of time on these discussions.

Most of the folks I hear in these conversations are ‘armchair’ sailors.  For my own research I’ve had to learn to separate them from the folks that have actually gone out there and cruised. Those are the people I want to get my information from. Luckily, my favorite mechanic is one that has gone and come back. He and his family plan to go back out again soon. Not only have I seen his work, I trust his judgment on equipment and provisioning.

The road I’m taking is the ‘buy what you can afford now and go with it.’ I have learned from other projects earlier in life that I usually overdo the preparations only to realize later that I could’ve saved money or time by getting the basics together and going sooner. A lot of the stuff I thought I had to have turned out to be unnecessary.

As it is, I kinda dumb lucked myself into a good boat for the job. I bought a 1979 Cal 31 at auction and wound up with a full set of sails and a good diesel engine. All the pieces were there. Of course, with a 32-year-old boat there’s plenty to fix but for what I paid for the boat, I figured I could spend a bundle and still come out on the plus side of the balance sheet.

So for those that feel you have to have a full keel and a fin won’t do it; or a heavy boat or a shallow draft and other requirements, I’ll start here and learn. I’m gonna dance with the gal I brung to the party.

At the moment I don’t plan on ocean crossings. My experience level won’t allow that. Or in other words, I’m not suicidal. Cruising down the eastern coast of the Gulf is where I’m starting out. As my comfort level and skill level increases, I’ll go further afield. Sure. There are plenty of things you’ve just got to know before undertaking a project like this, but I’m not leaving just yet. I’ve got time to work out many kinks.

I’ve lived aboard going on five years now and I’ve learned quite a bit. Things like;

• Don’t hold anything in your hands while getting onto and off of the boat. You need to hang on to something and you don’t want to drop anything in the water.
• Look before you step. Make sure the steps are where you plan to put your foot. The boat has a funny way of moving just enough that you may end up stepping off into the lake.
• Boats move. Sometimes a lot. Depending on how much traffic there is the boat may lurch at just the wrong moment because of the waves. Try to be ready.
• Don’t take the boat out on the weekends or during holidays. It’s a bit like going to the mall on a ‘no tax’ weekend. There are boats zooming along from every direction and speed.
• When you do go out, make sure everything is either tied down or secured so it doesn’t fall when some fool passes you while throwing off a huge wake.
• Learn the rules of the road and then be prepared to improvise. You may know them but he may not.  
• Boats leak. Not always from below but from above. Keep pans handy. Then remember where the water came in and seal the leaks up.

These and many other things I’ve learned. They become second nature after a while; like not using the word ‘walk’ in hearing range of the family dog.

I’ve found that life aboard a boat is very relaxing. Too much so sometimes. With all of the best intentions, I plan to work on a project but somehow can’t seem to get going. Be it the calming waves, gentle breeze, the camaraderie of the other liveaboards or as is often in my case, inherent laziness I just don’t make the progress I intended. I plan to do a study on this topic.

Soon.

Yeah.

Real soon.

Planning as I am to go to the islands in a couple of years, there is much to be done and to learn.

Notes from the cube asylum

Dipping a toe in the blogsphere on my way to the islands.