Staying on Task...

...can be pretty damn hard. The dream is to 'check out' to some degree. Sail away, drive away, some combination of the two. The used boat market is such that shopping can take years. And, you really need to see what the space feels like. Particularly if you are going to live on the thing full time.

We've seen several boats. Each time, the emotions are similar. Today though, I was ready to double down, and I don't mean eat one of those KFC heart destroyers either.

Our price range, under 50,000, limits our boat selection, but not as much as you might think. This afternoon, we took a leisurely drive to Edenton, NC to check out a Gulfstar center cockpit ketch. This is ten feet longer than boats we have been seeing, well within the price range, and damn was it roomy. When you are spending less than 50,000 on a boat, you are accepting that it will need work. Since I'm comfortable with the work, I tend to look for things that cannot be altered later. So, if the boat has space, and is well built, I can polish the rest later.

These plans are long term, so while baby Quinn is a compact little peanut right now, I'm not naive enough to think that she will remain that way. The center cockpit design dictates the presence of a spacious aft cabin. A master suite with a head, and get this--a door!! Isolation! yes that is right, on a small boat, in the middle of the ocean with your loved ones, I'm told isolation becomes important. Twenty five or so square feet dedicated to serenity. Sign me up.

Also, there was a cockpit dodger, so, that would be nice in the rain.

The boat needed cosmetic work, and certainly I'd get a survey. But standing there looking at those empty lockers, my wife, and that cabin. I could see it. I could see leaving. Leaving it all behind.

The problem with being a grown-up is that you can actually make your wildest dreams come true. I could walk into the bank with a smile on my face tomorrow, and walk out with enough dollar bills to buy that boat. No questions asked. I've got a good credit rating, I've lived a responsible adult life, until now!!!

This isn't the first time this has happened. It happens every time we see a boat. Well, almost every time. Also, there is wisdom in the position that a careful man could wait forever. When will the time be just right? Who knows. Sell the damn house. Top of the market, bottom, who knows? More importantly, who cares. My comfortable life, building houses, eating out, spewing carbon in every direction. It's a sin, no matter what the dirty money provides. Wake up, get gone!

Daughter, health insurance, education, retirement. . . Dirty money or not, it buys the freedom from burdening others. Combine the two? Live on the boat with a tiny footprint; accept the evil of the job? Don't know, can I make that dream come true. That one would actually take effort, not just cash.

A Little Structure . . . Maybe

Lately I've been blogging, or rather ranting, about a myriad of things that are on my mind. Unfortunately, they've been neither particularly interesting, or compelling. I'm onto something new. Something that I hope will become a sort of occasional series.

The birth of my daughter Quinn has really gotten me thinking hard about the type of life I want to live. A life with purpose, that reflects my values, and that might be, at least interesting, maybe even inspiring to my child. The most appealing approach seems to involve boats. I'm thinking living aboard a sail boat, but I'm not sure a trailer sailor behind a camper is out. Boats (the ones I can afford anyway) have always represented a critical requirement that I think is characteristic of any examined life. They are a finite space. To live on one, or even simply voyage for any period of time, you have to decide exactly what you need and leave the rest behind. This seems like a great rule by which to live. Also, you can be a total dirt bag on a boat, and no one thumbs their nose at you. In fact they think you are rich. So, unlike living out of a van, the boat option will probably not get me turned over to child protective services.

Not knowing exactly what the goal is, Deanna and I have decided that an incremental approach will be best. Our goal is to make a leap of some sort when Quinn is three. So, we are saving, planning, and practicing. The occasional series on 'Shy Drunk' will focus mainly the planning and the practicing.

Quinn is nine weeks old, and she took her first trip on the high seas in week eight. She was born 2/10/2010, and by 4/11/2010, she was on the water. She pretty much hated it. Well she slept and cried. The fact that she slept some of the time tells me she was loving that portion of the voyage. Also, she cries at the doctor's office, but that's necessary so, I'm going with that line of reasoning.

Deanna and I purchased a pretty sweet little plywood boat in January--we'd been discussing these issues for some time. I spent the spring repairing, and modifying things to make them more infant friendly. I've still got a couple more items to paint, build, and adjust, but the Quinn Anne's Revenge is sailing on weekends. She has a new suit of sails, I'm working on a cabin and cockpit sole, and fine tuning the rigging.

So who knows, maybe living better means something as simple as spending more time with my wife and daughter doing something we can all enjoy together. Or maybe, by age three, we will head out, with the Quinn Anne's Revenge behind my truck, or on something thirty plus feet with no trailer involved.

In any case, it feels nice to have a goal, even if it's still taking shape.