Filled with boat love, her heart sang loud
Issue 66 : May/Jun 2009
The smell, if I didn’t love it, would have made me sick. Diesel fuel, tar, salt water . . . and dreams. I couldn’t get enough. I stopped and inhaled deeply as soon as I stepped out of the rental car. The cold made my nose burn and I shivered, reaching for my jacket in the back seat. I should have known better; it was January after all.
We had flown over half the country to get to this place; the potential of our future rested in this small marina. I looked over at the shape that had to be her. Her normally glistening white sides were pink in the sunrise. This was her; the name was right, even though it was peeling off: Aurora.
She looked different on those rusted blue metal legs. I couldn’t help myself; I had to caress her smooth side. I walked up to her and whispered to her, as much as to myself, how beautiful she was. I don’t think she believed me. She may have been beautiful once, but she had been forgotten. Her makeup was faded, her raiment in tatters, but her silhouette was still sharp and gorgeous. My hand was cold against her hull as I cooed to her, telling her she would be stunning once again. She was so big, I wondered if we had it in us to take on such a large responsibility.
Questions and promises
I could have stayed right there and caressed her all day, but I wanted to know more about her; who she really was. Who was she on the inside? I climbed the ladder and stood on her deck looking around. I could see others under winter shelters; my dejected enchantress was naked and cold standing there on the land, out of her element. I walked around her deck touching the peeling wood, the worn ropes, the wires and metal, the tall slender mast. I sat in the cockpit and talked to her about warm beaches and windy days. If the January wind hadn’t been so cold I could have sworn I was there already. Would she be ready and willing to make the voyage again, with different people this time and to different places?
I was ready go below and look around inside. I went down the steps, from what had become bright daylight into the dimness of her interior. The rear cabin was large; a queen-sized bed, a private head, and some shelves. Her headliner was coming off and the portlight was cracked. But I could already see pillows and a quilt on the bunk, books lining the shelves, and feel a gentle rocking helping us drift off to sleep. I stooped and went through the walkway to the main cabin.
New cushions, peeling paint
Her main cabin had it all: galley, navigation station, settee, saloon table, and another head. To warm them, I sat on my cold hands on the settee. The soft cushions were new. I blew fog into the air from my breath and noticed the curled veneer, the peeling paint, the bad repair by the settee. How much work was it going to take? Hundreds of hours, perhaps?
I spent the rest of the day trying to warm my hands while peeking into every drawer, every cranny, every cupboard. I could paint there, fi x that, and clean this. It could be done. She would be on the water again, proud of herself, standing tall and elegant. Her canvas would be new, her stainless steel polished, and her woodwork glistening with new varnish. It was a big job, but the size of the task didn’t really matter. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep. I could smell the ocean in her, the passages she’d make, and the scents of ports yet to be explored.
I can’t wait.
Lori Eidsmoe and her husband, Michael, are currently landlocked in Colorado, to where they moved their beloved Aurora, a Kelly-Peterson 44, to work on her refit. When the refit is done, her final overland move will be to the San Juan Islands, where she will remain until they leave to cruise full time.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
