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Who buys and boat and then doesn’t sail it?

This puzzled me, shocked me, confounded me the first few years I had the boat. And in Berkeley, especially, with some of the highest slip fees in the Bay (well over $330 a month at minimum), I wondered who could afford to just let their boat sit there, right in the mouth of the slot and not sail. Here are my best ideas, please add any you can think of in the comment section!

#1 Sailing is tiring and time consuming. I used to crew on a Santana 22 on Sundays until I realized that by the time we rigged the boat, got her out in time to shake down and get a course, race, and put her away, it basically took my entire day and I was exhausted, wet, and sore at the end of it. And I needed to set up care for the dogs. I still do the SSS series, which are between 20-60 miles, except for the longer ones, and those all take a full day to recover from, so that’s your whole weekend. Now that I have the boat in the estuary, I don’t have the luxury of just popping right into the central bay. It’s either 47 tacks out or 40 minutes of motoring, a commitment either way. If you have any responsibilities, partners, commitments or anything you enjoy, sailing will inconvenience all of them.

#2 Sailing can be expensive. Last weekend someone asked if I would like to take my boat out or go our on theirs and I told them no thank you, it looked like good weather to break something. Sailing in bay chop and 25 knots is fun when it isn’t your boat to fix later. I’ve had plenty of snap, krackle, pop experiences out on the water and not only are they demoralizing, they take time, money, knowledge, and often specialized parts to fix. I have had to take breaks on the boat to let my bank account recover as well as my spirits. Just getting the last little bits to cover the safety requirements for my next race cost $800 and that includes things I found used. I ran into an old amour and general contractor in the marine store the other day, four years later, he still hasn’t gotten his boat out of the slip.

#3 There are easier things to do. If the boat is all about adventure, learning, and pushing into my vulnerabilities, the van is all about ease. The van is so easy. So easy. There are about five anchorages in the San Francisco Bay, three of which allow dogs and all have their quirks. In the van I have hundreds of possibilities within the same time frame, it isn’t a problem if I forget something or want to pick something up along the way, I sleep through the night, not listening to hear if the anchor has drifted, and the biggest operation upon arrival is setting out a water bowl and opening the door. At anchorage, with dogs, there are all kinds of things going on- getting to shore, sand management, dinghy management, and keeping an eye on the boat, dinghy, and oars if we aren’t on it. Theft is always an issue. Backpacking is easier, biking and bike camping are easier, trains are easier, basically everything is easier than sailing and anchoring.

#4 The community of sailors and pocket cruisers are well into retirement. Lin and Larry are in their twilight years. At the race meeting I was just at, I was the only person there under 55. If it weren’t for the sailing schools taking out 30’s something that got a groupon, the bay would be empty. Forget what you see on YouTube, those people are jut motoring. If you look out into San Francisco Bay after 4:00, when the schools have ended, you will see windsurfers and ferries. There are people who live on boats because there is a housing crisis here and people who motor around on boats and get wasted together periodically at raft ups, as well as the big boat races, so god bless the luxury watch companies for continuing to fund this sport, but the weekend sailor is gone. I know one person that sails regularly out of hundreds that have boats. The rest are more ready for walkers and canes than they are for a trapeze or even a harness.

#5 They are waiting on their bilge babe. Sailors are amazingly romantic. They are all waiting on a person that they can sail away into the sunset with, not really thinking it through how hard it is to find someone that will enjoy spending long periods of time in cramped and semi disgusting quarters with them. Build it and they will come might work with a baseball field, but probably not with a 5 gallon shit bucket. But they build and tinker and fuss and then drink beers or margaritas and moan, but don’t sail. For many sailors, the girl is the holy grail, who is either going to go sailing, keep them from sailing so they can save face and bail on the whole endeavor, or the scapegoat.

#6 Boats are cheap places to live. Especially here where there is a housing crisis, getting a little place to put your sleeping bag and cook your dinty more is the only way retirees, crazies, divorcées, and allegedly some artists, can continue to afford to live here. Add in your Knick knacks, tinfoil hat, not having the money to maintain your boat and you have a good idea of what most marinas look like on the other side of the gate. It’s probably the last place in America where you can be poor and live with some dignity.

#7 People die and their relatives have no idea what to do with their boat. I have come across this what seems like a disproportionate amount in just a few years. There was a woman with a blog and an Orion and when she passed from cancer, her boat went on the market first as is, languished, then went off, then came back upgraded. An Able 34 has been on the market for years now after a guy passed away and someone picked the boat up at auction, thinking he got a “deal” and now has been trying to sell it for twice what he paid, despite the original auction price being pretty easy to find online. I pass pass by a fully outfitted NorSea on my walks and she has turned an incredible shade of green in the four years I have been strolling by. I pass by a gorgeous classic motor boat on the way my slip that is regularly worked on, varnished, washed, etc but hasn’t been out for years. The owner also owns a big racing sailboat opposite but is too ill or old to do anything with either of them.

#8 People don’t want to give up on their dreams, but they don’t want to follow through on them either. Thinking about quitting your job, setting your sails and heading off into the sunrise (because actually the sunset means it is night time, something I still find scary) is wonderful to think about. When people go to all the trouble of getting a boat, it is because they are doing their best to nurture a dream in their hearts. Who wants to give that up? Especially one that is already fitted for cruising. Maybe they even did a big trip once and everything is ready to go, just $10k and three months and… When I REALLY realized how much money, time off, and time away it would take to do the singlehanded transpac last year I couldn’t justify it.

aiming for the horizon line

#9 Autopay and the city doesn’t know what to do with them either. I have heard that more boats are being destroyed than made these days but even scuttling a boat is expensive and probably illegal. I know one sailor that bought a boat with the intention of moving here and then plans changed and five years later he remembered he had been paying slip fees for five years and came back and got her. More often, I think people abandon them and what are the marinas going to do with them? Lash them together to make a giant pile of floating plastic trash.

#10. People forget what they are missing. It’s not until I am off the dock, on the water and in the thick of it before I remember how fun sailing is. No matter how many times I do it, it still seems like a lot of work, there are very few people interested or available, it can be dangerous, the dogs hate it, and the San Francisco Bay is not the Caribbean. And then I get out there and it is so fun and so beautiful and peaceful and spiritual and the whole frenetic week washes away.

A happy place