It’s been seven days since my last confession.

All he's missing are the Crocs.

Not my fault. Just bad wi-fi at the marina.

Yes, we made it to Florida and have spent the past days fixing up the boat so that the broker can start showing her to potential new owners. Please, Santa, do your thing and get this boat under someone’s tree for Christmas. If you do, I promise to be as naughty as you want me to be. And yes, that does mean what you think it means.

After eight years sailing, we’ve decided to sell the boat. However, in this economy, selling anything seems to be a hard sell so instead of sitting at home this winter, we decided to put the boat at a marina (supposed to be easier to sell if it’s in the water) and come down and live on it. First impressions? Having never stayed at a marina before, I’m discovering a whole kind of boaters community that I’m not sure I’m too keen on. Whenever we’ve sailed to places, we always anchor out. It’s private, quiet and you can go swimming off the end of the boat in your birthday suit. Here? Well, first off…it’s a marina so the water is not what you’d call pristine. The boats are docked so close together I can hear the guy next to us scratch his ass so no nude sun bathing. Then there’s the boaters herding mentality that runs rampant in the cruising community. Don’t get me wrong. Boaters can be great and are always willing to lend a hand…especially if you’ve got a problem or something that needs to be fixed on your boat. So, I’m always friendly and say hello to everyone I meet. I just don’t want to become too close to any of them because once you go down that road, your life onboard is never the same.

The day we arrived we had six boaters come up to us asking if we were planning on hosting any dock parties. When we said we’d just arrived and would think about it, I don’t think it was the answer they were hoping for. Then, Dee from four boats down came by to tell us that everyone gets together early evening at the gazebo and that she expected to see us there. We told her no, maybe some other time as we’d just arrived and she got this funny look on her face. Every morning since then, as she’s walking up to the showers, she makes a point of asking if we’re going to be around in the evening. It’s like she’s the self-appointed cruise director who just can’t take no for an answer. Talk about persistent.

Then there’s the lack of boaters laundry etiquette. As someone who’s done laundry in the out islands of the Bahamas, you quickly learn there is a correct way to do laundry. You do not take every stitch of dirty clothing, sheets and towels and commandeer all the washing machines for 3 hours. You don’t pace back and forth in front of the machines like a prison guard. You don’t spread all your shit over every available surface and pretend to ignore anyone who asks how long you’ll be before a machine is free. This is wrong. And, it’s always women. Sorry to be sexist but it’s true. The only guy boaters I’ve seen doing laundry are solo cruisers and they usually just have one of everything so they only ever need one machine. They’re in, they’re out, they’re done.

The other frightening thing is the clothing worn by most boaters. First off, there’s the Crocs. Oh. My. God. Why are these things still being sold? They are so very not attractive…and when you pair them with white socks…let’s just say ew. Of course, Crocs go so well with baggy shorts maybe they are sold that way…as a two-for-one kind of deal. Since about 70 per cent of the boaters we’ve met over the years are overweight (very) wearing baggy shorts is not the best thing to be wearing. But, since they all drink way too much beer and eat out at every meal, I guess it’s not surprising. I don’t think I’ve ever met a group of people who love fried food as much as boaters. I could call them sailors but they’re not really. I think I heard about nine boats on our dock who haven’t left for ten years. They come down and spend all winter on their boat at the dock and never leave. There is no sailing, just sitting. No wonder they are on the heavy side. It’s quite sad really. I don’t know how some of them get around on their boats. They are bigger than the boat hatch. It’s all a mystery.

Side note: there’s a huge power boat across the way from where I’m sitting. The owners are blasting out country western music, drinking beer and wearing Crocs.

I guess I’ve been a bit negative about all this. I think I’m both pleased to be here out of the snow and cold but at the same time a bit anxious about selling our boat. I shouldn’t really complain…we worked hard and saved our pennies. We live cheap…maybe that’s part of the reason we don’t join in with the cruisers…we’d end up drinking our month’s budget in booze. That I can’t allow. If there’s any spending of the money on booze, I want it to be vodka and I want it to be all mine.

Plus, I’m still pissed about the crappy wi-fi. Amy…if you’re reading this…it will be the last time I complain about the Internet access.

Just call me the Sailor Who Stole Christmas.

Posted by Blogdramedy on December 20, 2011

http://blogdramedy.wordpress.com/2011/12/20/its-been-seven-days-since-my-last-confession/