The first order of business was to get Laelia in shape to sell. That meant unloading everything from the boat, giving the interior a big clean up and fixing up the bright work on deck. It was in pretty disgraceful shape after two years of neglect - and several months of that time on the edge of the Tropic of Cancer with the sun nearly overhead. See the sad results at right.
I did some reading up on how to varnish bright work and started in. It meant stripping all the existing varnish. I did it by sanding it off. I wouldn't it that way again. It takes off too much good wood along with the varnish.
Before I could actually start varnishing, I had to decide on whether to varnish or use a product called Cetol. Entire religious wars are fought over which is the better way to go. I came down on the side of varnish - based mostly on the fact that it gives teak a deep, reddish tone to the teak compared to the yellowish hue of Cetol. The down side to varnish is that it takes more coats and it doesn't last quite as well as Cetol. To me, the appearance is worth the extra work.
The first two coats of varnish were 50% thinner so the varnish would soak into the wood. The next one was 75% varnish and the final three were undiluted varnish. I used a brand called Epiphanes - high gloss. My next door neighbors in the marina highly recommended it. After looking at their bright work, I agreed that it looked mighty fine and that's what I used.
The picture to the left shows the difference between bare teak and varnished.
Getting all the varnish applied turned into a bit of a drawn out process. I could only stay on the boat three nights in any seven day period. The rules laid down by the marina and BCDC (Bay Conservation and Development Commission (I think)) restrict the number of live aboard slips to no more than 10% of the slips. Three nights aboard translated to three days of work. I quickly discovered that getting back to the boat after shore life took a bit of adjustment. I would arrive at the boat mid-afternoon, start soaking up the marina ambiance, have a glass of wine, visit with my neighbors and generally get nothing done. The work started the next morning.
I found that I could coat the toe rail, cockpit trim, cabin top trim and either the anchor platform or the stern rail in one day. I had to start each day by lightly sanding the previous coat, cleaning up the dust and then actually putting on varnish. The actual application had to take place between 11 AM and 4 PM when it was sunny and warm enough to get the varnish to set before it got cool and damp. Otherwise, the varnish would turn cloudy and have to be sanded off before the next coat was applied.
As I was doing this, I experienced "mission creep." I looked at the beautiful toe rails and cockpit trim and decided that the wash boards in the companionway and the trim around the companionway would have to be stripped and varnished because they would look so ratty next to the new varnish. Sure enough, they looked great after stripping and varnishing. But then when I was sitting below, I noticed that the binocular holder next to the companionway looked pretty drab so it had to be added to the project as well as the magazine rack and book rack that were bare teak. And so it goes...I had six or more coats on all but the starboard toe rail (four coats) and some miscellaneous pieces (two coats) when I ran out of time. The days were cooling down and daylight was so short that the varnish was not set up well enough to be sanded the next morning for another coat.
But enough was done that I was getting a steady stream of compliments from bypassers. More importantly, it was getting rave reviews from prospective buyers. As soon as I had at least two coats on the major portions of the bright work, I listed Laelia for sale. It was painful to realize how much I had spent buying her fixing her up and how little I was going to get back.
For a long while, it seemed that all I was getting was people looking at the boat, saying nice things about her and then moving on. But the day finally came when I got a serious offer. After some negotiation, a trial sale and a survey (comparable to a home inspection), the deal was closed.
During all this, I was living with Judy in her house in Citrus Heights (suburban Sacramento) trying to help with getting settled into the new place and trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. I was coming up empty. I bought some pieces of gear to put up an antenna for my ham rig hoping to get back on the air and start supporting the Pacific Seafarer's Net from the land side. The project lagged for lack of money and lack of time. There always seems to be something that the house needs and it was much less satisfying to me than working on a boat. Beyond the ham radio activity, I could not think of anything I could get excited about in my life.
Judy and I seemed to go up and down. I felt like I had very little control over my life living in her house more or less earning my board and room by working on fixing up the house. Judy doesn't like the house and wants to sell in the Spring. But where do we go from there? Attempts at coming to some agreement seemed to go nowhere.
Still, we did get away a couple of times for short vacations - two days in Gualala on the Northern California coast and three days in Ashland, Oregon. It was good to get away from the demands of the house and have time just for the two of us. We enjoyed some good food, good wine and time to talk and snuggle - and more...
Last weekend, after getting the offer for Laelia, I went back to the boat to get my personal gear off the boat and to take the prospective buyers for a sea trial. When I got to the marina, I just stood in the parking lot for a while looking, listening, smelling, soaking up the ambiance. I realized that by far the most times I had felt good since my return were the times I spent on the boat. I couldn't swallow the anchor - it got caught on my heart trying to go down.
What to do? Back out of the sale? No - not a good idea. Regardless of where I was going from there, Laelia and I had reached the end of our voyage together. She was no longer the boat that I would need. That evening, I started leafing through the classified ads at the back of Latitude 38 - the most popular sailing publication on the west coast. Lo and behold, there was an ad for a boat that I had fallen in lust with when I was living in West Point Marina in Redwood City. She is a Tayana 37 cutter named Ayala. She is beautiful - graceful lines, teak deck and trim. She was designed by Robert Perry who does not seem to know how to design an ugly boat or a slow boat.
I spotted this advertisement early in the evening. Tired out by the day's activities and the emotional stress, I turned out the lights early and went to sleep. When I woke up, it was still relatively early and I was obsessed with thoughts of Ayala. I called the owner. He informed me that he already had an offer and that she would be at the Boatyard at the Grand Marina to be hauled out for survey on Monday morning at 10 AM. Laelia was scheduled for haul out at the same boat yard at noon. He invited me to drop by and look at the boat in case the buyer decided not to go on with the sale.
On Sunday evening, it occurred to me that Ayala would probably be in a slip by the boat yard that evening in order to be ready for her 10 AM appointment. Sure enough, when I walked over to the boat yard, Ayala had just pulled in. The prospective buyer was enthusiastic about her and invited me to come aboard to look around.
Monday came. I went for the sea trial with Laelia's buyer and then headed for the boat yard to have her hauled out. Ayala was just heading for the lift - two hours late due to boat yard scheduling problems. I got to meet the boat owner and told him how much I liked the boat. Ayala hadn't been out of the water more than about 15 minutes before the owner came to Laelia and told me that the buyer had gotten cold feet. There were some problems with the boat and he was a first time buyer who didn't want to deal with problems.
The obvious problem is that Judy would be adamantly opposed to my having another boat. At the same time, it had become clear to me that owning and sailing a boat was important to me. Not only did I need a boat as a way to be back on the water, I needed a place to retreat to from the seeming constant low level tension between us. We had talked in the past about having a boat and living close enough to it that I (we) could spend time on it so I had hopes that we could work something out between us.
Judy was MOST unhappy with the idea when we discussed it this afternoon. After about 15 minutes of discussion, she announced that we were not dwelling on the same plane and I had 24 hours to get my stuff out of the house. I can't say that I am surprised or that I blame her. I have started packing. I have a small moving van scheduled for tomorrow and a storage space in Alameda near the marina. It is not a sure thing that the deal with Ayala will work out but it is clear that I will find a boat soon and go back to boat life.
I suppose I am mostly numb right now - I don't feel a lot about it. There is so very much more but I'm at a loss for words. I can't see a life for myself doing what I've been doing the last few months since I got back. We seem to be tugging in opposite directions with the result that it feels to me like we are stuck. I wish it could be worked out so we stay together but it doesn't seem very likely. I haven't given up hope entirely.
So... The voyage with Laelia is over but perhaps other voyages may be ahead. What, if anything, will be happening with Judy? Back to work? Live aboard in the SF Bay area? Move to San Diego? Back to Mexico? On to the South Pacific? Maybe it will the Voyage of Ayala. Stay tuned...
No comments:
Post a Comment