The Seven Stages of Life on the Hard

The emotional roller coaster is an inevitable part of the boatyard journey

Issue 149: March/April 2023

I have complicated feelings about boatyards. Strolling among the jack stands, with the boats and their rigging towering overhead, is like walking through a magnificent cathedral. I love to look at the secret, hidden parts of boats, the parts you never see when they are in the water. Racing yachts, heavy cruisers, daysailers, powerboats, and workboats; I love them all.

The activities taking place in the boatyard are as riveting as the boats themselves. I have witnessed remarkable feats of mechanical brilliance and craftsmanship, as well as a few catastrophes. And I like chatting with boat owners as they lovingly care for their vessels. You meet the most interesting people in boatyards.

So it’s ironic that I abhor having my own boat in a boatyard, any boatyard. During yard periods, the boat is torn apart. Its systems are dismantled or unusable, the contents of every storage locker are scattered from stem to stern, and dirt is tracked everywhere, despite extreme efforts to keep it off the boat.

Beyond the physical discomfort and frustration of having to play boat Tetris every time you need to retrieve a screwdriver, the main reason I dislike having my boat in a boatyard is the emotional roller coaster accompanying every haulout. Working on your boat in the boatyard brings a predictable pattern of emotions. Anticipating these emotional stages and learning to recognize them will help you get through them.

So for you, dear reader, here are the Seven Stages of Life on the Hard:

Hope

This stage occurs during the weeks leading up to the haulout and is characterized by a naïve, optimistic outlook. Boat owners in this phase spend much of their energy trying to create a foolproof plan for accomplishing an entirely unrealistic amount of work in the allotted time. How-to videos are watched on YouTube and parts and supplies are ordered.

Awe

Seeing your boat fly through the air as the travel lift picks it up and whisks it away is awe-inspiring. This stage is fleeting.

Surprise

Upon inspecting the hull below the waterline, you discover myriad unanticipated structural/safety issues that need to be corrected immediately, adding a dozen major items to the top of that already unrealistic to-do list. Over the coming days and weeks, you will invariably notice more problems that were initially overlooked. Don’t fly off the handle. Before taking any drastic measures, spend a couple of days carefully examining each problem and formulating the simplest solution. Many of the issues you initially thought were problems may turn out to be false alarms.

Depression

The first stretch of hard work in the boatyard is characterized by making relatively minor problems much worse. To fix things, you must first do some damage: grinding, blasting, sanding, stripping, drilling, or cutting. You know it must be done, but it is emotionally painful to pick the scabs and excise the diseased tissue.

It is during this stage when you realize that your planned launch date is a pipe dream. Getting through this phase and advancing to the next is the most crucial part of the yard period. This is the point at which many sailing dreams die and countless boats are abandoned. The remote corners and backlots of every boatyard are littered with rotting derelicts with half-finished fiberglass repair jobs. Each of these dead boats is tangible evidence of someone’s lost sailing dreams.

To avoid this fate, you must keep pushing ahead, putting one foot in front of the other. Break up each project into a series of small, achievable tasks. Celebrate your victories, however small. Find support and inspiration from your fellow sailors who are also working in the boatyard. Having a large bank account helps, too.

Pride

A sense of satisfaction slowly builds as you progress from demolition to reconstruction. The more you accomplish, the more positive your outlook becomes. But beware of mission creep. It is tempting to say, “Now that we have done X and have access to Y, we might as well do Z while we are here.”

“Z” may well be a worthwhile project, and it may be more efficient in the long run to tackle it now when you have easy access to it. But you can spend the rest of your life performing a long string of projects, each one logically leading to the next. That’s fine if you really enjoy working on your boat, but it can also keep you landbound. Is doing Z necessary for safety? Does the boat have to be on the hard to accomplish it? Were you already planning to do that project within the next two years? Will doing it now increase the amount of sailing you could do before your next haulout? If you didn’t answer yes to at least one of these questions, you should put it off until a later date.

This is also the point at which others in the boatyard, taking note of your progress, will try to distract you from your goal. They will offer advice when none is needed, offer libation before the day is done (sometimes before it has begun), and try to impede your progress, intentionally or unintentionally. My wife and I have a strategy for dealing with well-meaning distractors. We call it “block and parry.” When a visitor approaches, one of us will engage that person and distract the distractor while the other continues working. It allows our progress to continue while not being rude.

Of course, we all need social interaction, and for many reasons it is good to cultivate relationships in the boatyard, given the likelihood that you will eventually need technical assistance or additional brawn at some point during your work. Just don’t forget your priorities.

Panic

As launch day approaches, you work like mad to finish all the projects that absolutely must get done before splashing. The end is in sight. But do you have enough time to finish everything before your appointment with the travel lift? You will do anything to add work hours to the day — rising early and wearing a headlamp to work late into the night. But rushing the application of epoxy barrier coat or bottom paint will cause problems down the road.

Relief

After the boat has been launched (and you confirm that the sea is staying on the outside of the hull), you sail away from the dock and exhale with a sigh of relief. You can finally enjoy watching a sunset on the water, knowing your bottom is clean and your boat is shipshape. The misery of the past several weeks has all been worth it. Soon you will forget those emotional lows and begin planning projects for your next haulout.

As awful as life is in a boatyard, it is a necessary part of being a sailor, especially for those of us who own good old boats. Knowing up front that your journey in the boatyard will pass through some dark valleys can help you reach the next peak.

Once you’ve made it through these seven stages, raise a glass to the humble boatyard and to the people who keep boatyards operating. We need to cherish them even as we curse the need for them.

Damon Gannon is a marine biologist who has conducted research on marine mammals, fishes, and seabirds from the Gulf of Mexico to the Bay of Fundy. He is assistant director of the University of Georgia Marine Institute on Sapelo Island. He and his wife, Janet, sail Fulmar, their Pacific Seacraft 37, out of Brunswick, Georgia.

 

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