I’m going through hard times, boating hard times. It’s not financial although lord knows, money is tight. And it’s not that I’m overwhelmed by the amount of damage wreaked by hurricane Gonzalo even though it’s given me a few sleepless nights. So why the angst? Well, for the first time in my long boating career, I have hired someone to work on my boat.
My wife and I have built our own boat, re-planked our own boat, sewn sails, repowered and many-a-time repainted our own boat. We have caulked and glassed and sanded and rolled and rewired and riveted and decked and varnished … In fact there is little my wife and I haven’t done when it comes to maintaining a boat and keeping her seaworthy. And now someone else is doing the work and it’s like handing our child to a stranger.
Watching work progress with a critical eye and not criticizing, even when it’s a good job, well, it hurts. Accepting new ideas and ways of doing things and not hovering over the guys as they work are all things I have to deal with for the first time.
Am I waving goodbye to my youth here? Is the shield of immortality we carry into middle age taking a battering now that someone else is grinding and glassing? Perhaps it’s a lad thing, although a lot of water has passed under the keel since I was a lad.
My wife is more pragmatic. “About time you had some bloody sense,” is her take on the subject.
So hands-off repairs are going ahead and my life has taken a quantum lurch but not a leap. I can’t say I’m happy not doing the work, but I have grudgingly accepted it.
Pssst … wanna do the antifouling?