Previous readers of B.O.A.T. likely understand the underlying theme: boating isn’t exactly an inexpensive pastime. There’re two types of boat owners out there, the ones who use their vessel like a work truck, and those who take pride in their investment. Sure, I could throw all my gear into my boat without concern, skip all those mechanical and safety checks before leaving my slip, ignore my OCD rechecks of dock lines to ensure no rubbing on my return, or save time and money by not reinstalling or repairing canvas that keeps Mother Nature out. My repeated cleanings likely appear vain and time consuming to the utilitarian owners. Trust me, I envy those who treat their boat as just another pair of used sneakers; how easier life would be if I didn’t care about protecting my investment. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to.
I spent a considerable amount of time and money preparing for this season, servicing everything above and below the waterline that could potentially send her to the bottom; maintenance started during winter layup, finishing only moments before her three-week late spring launch. Focusing on prevention versus emergency response, I replaced every thru-hull this season, performing simultaneous cosmetic repairs too. Everyone’s rework efforts paid off as my boat was in spectacular condition at her 2015 launch, enough so that I planned not to have to pull her again for two to three more seasons.
We got to use her once.
A dock mate called me at work and said. “You better get here quick.” Turns out, a guy who doesn’t care about his boat as much as I care for mine struck two other boats in the main-lane of my marina, then did a hard-over U-turn to free himself from that second boat, pointed toward mine. He managed to melt, then snap, two of my 5/8-inch bow lines in the process of throttling his large boat into my (occupied) slip. Men pulled his boat off my bow only moments before my arrival.
Three damaged boats later, no apology from the man plus irrational responses to my simple questions for his information made me question if a liquid lunch was involved. Funny what that lawyer-type called “an accident” I call “inevitable.” Like a lazy person kicking his door open in a mall’s tight parking spot, damage to other people’s stuff is simply the inevitable outcome from a lifetime of caring only about himself. There are very few true accidents, at least for us who still care.
B.O.A.T. by Mike Edick
Monday, July 13, 2015 - 08:45
A lawyer, his boat’s insurance agent, and his agent’s marine surveyor walk into a bar. Bartender says, “What’ll you guys have?” Insurance agent replies, “I’m really thirsty, but all I can afford to pay for is a big glass of water.” His eager-to-please surveyor turns and says, “Well, since he’s paying for me, I’ll have what he’s having.” Finally the lawyer says, “Anything top-shelf, straight-up,” because he’ll only pay if there was a written contract forcing him to do so.
Any similarity to recent actual events is purely coincidental.
Previous readers of B.O.A.T. likely understand the underlying theme: boating isn’t exactly an inexpensive pastime. There’re two types of boat owners out there, the ones who use their vessel like a work truck, and those who take pride in their investment. Sure, I could throw all my gear into my boat without concern, skip all those mechanical and safety checks before leaving my slip, ignore my OCD rechecks of dock lines to ensure no rubbing on my return, or save time and money by not reinstalling or repairing canvas that keeps Mother Nature out. My repeated cleanings likely appear vain and time consuming to the utilitarian owners. Trust me, I envy those who treat their boat as just another pair of used sneakers; how easier life would be if I didn’t care about protecting my investment. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to.
I spent a considerable amount of time and money preparing for this season, servicing everything above and below the waterline that could potentially send her to the bottom; maintenance started during winter layup, finishing only moments before her three-week late spring launch. Focusing on prevention versus emergency response, I replaced every thru-hull this season, performing simultaneous cosmetic repairs too. Everyone’s rework efforts paid off as my boat was in spectacular condition at her 2015 launch, enough so that I planned not to have to pull her again for two to three more seasons.
We got to use her once.
A dock mate called me at work and said. “You better get here quick.” Turns out, a guy who doesn’t care about his boat as much as I care for mine struck two other boats in the main-lane of my marina, then did a hard-over U-turn to free himself from that second boat, pointed toward mine. He managed to melt, then snap, two of my 5/8-inch bow lines in the process of throttling his large boat into my (occupied) slip. Men pulled his boat off my bow only moments before my arrival.
Three damaged boats later, no apology from the man plus irrational responses to my simple questions for his information made me question if a liquid lunch was involved. Funny what that lawyer-type called “an accident” I call “inevitable.” Like a lazy person kicking his door open in a mall’s tight parking spot, damage to other people’s stuff is simply the inevitable outcome from a lifetime of caring only about himself. There are very few true accidents, at least for us who still care.
B.O.A.T. by Mike Edick
Previous readers of B.O.A.T. likely understand the underlying theme: boating isn’t exactly an inexpensive pastime. There’re two types of boat owners out there, the ones who use their vessel like a work truck, and those who take pride in their investment. Sure, I could throw all my gear into my boat without concern, skip all those mechanical and safety checks before leaving my slip, ignore my OCD rechecks of dock lines to ensure no rubbing on my return, or save time and money by not reinstalling or repairing canvas that keeps Mother Nature out. My repeated cleanings likely appear vain and time consuming to the utilitarian owners. Trust me, I envy those who treat their boat as just another pair of used sneakers; how easier life would be if I didn’t care about protecting my investment. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to.
I spent a considerable amount of time and money preparing for this season, servicing everything above and below the waterline that could potentially send her to the bottom; maintenance started during winter layup, finishing only moments before her three-week late spring launch. Focusing on prevention versus emergency response, I replaced every thru-hull this season, performing simultaneous cosmetic repairs too. Everyone’s rework efforts paid off as my boat was in spectacular condition at her 2015 launch, enough so that I planned not to have to pull her again for two to three more seasons.
We got to use her once.
A dock mate called me at work and said. “You better get here quick.” Turns out, a guy who doesn’t care about his boat as much as I care for mine struck two other boats in the main-lane of my marina, then did a hard-over U-turn to free himself from that second boat, pointed toward mine. He managed to melt, then snap, two of my 5/8-inch bow lines in the process of throttling his large boat into my (occupied) slip. Men pulled his boat off my bow only moments before my arrival.
Three damaged boats later, no apology from the man plus irrational responses to my simple questions for his information made me question if a liquid lunch was involved. Funny what that lawyer-type called “an accident” I call “inevitable.” Like a lazy person kicking his door open in a mall’s tight parking spot, damage to other people’s stuff is simply the inevitable outcome from a lifetime of caring only about himself. There are very few true accidents, at least for us who still care.
B.O.A.T. by Mike Edick