Their “working girl” became a “lady who could dance”
Issue 59 : Mar/Apr 2008
We were incredibly lucky when we bought our first “big boat.” I’d sailed for many years, but the biggest thing I’d owned was a 20-foot racing dinghy. We chartered a Catalina 30 for our honeymoon and a somewhat larger boat the following year. The Catalina was a nice boat in good condition and sailed well. The next year we got a 33-foot collection of design and maintenance problems that floated only because of a reliable automatic bilge pump. We did a fair amount of repair to the poor thing during our charter and, with the limited impressions formed by these two craft, started looking at boats for sale.
If we’d been asked, we would have said that our search was half-hearted, driven more by curiosity than a determination to own a cruising boat. However, even we noticed that our behavior suggested more interest and determination than we were admitting to. We suspected the addiction to boat buying had struck us both, so one could not save the other.
At first I was certain we should have a teak goddess. They are so pretty. I looked at nothing else. I had never been responsible for a half-acre of varnish exposed to the sun, and so had no idea what that might involve. I was so devoted to the type that I walked right past the “working girl” that was to be our beloved companion for at least the next decade and a half. She was no wallflower; more knowledgeable sailors knew her reputation for being fast and easy to sail. I knew none of this. She was just a faded blue boat that looked like many others. I will always marvel at the way fate, and little Mystic, worked it out.
Fate wrote the script
If you have good sense, you live life looking forward. Still, when I do look back, it always seems as if fate scripted events, and that perhaps little Mystic chose her next crew, rather than the other way around.
Returning from a boatyard, I told Karen, “We’ve got to stop doing this. All we do is look at boats. This is an addiction.” Karen said, “OK, but we have one more appointment scheduled. After that one, we will quit.” We never kept that appointment, but there was one more boat nonetheless.
I found the ad in the Saturday paper. You don’t find cruising sailboats in that section of the Saturday paper. She was in there with Sunfishes and Lasers and old beach cats. Karen called the number and talked for about an hour. That was about 59 minutes more than Karen likes to spend on the phone. When she hung up, she said I had to call the guy back.
I talked for about an hour too . . . mostly listened, actually. The seller was pretty proud of his boat. When I got off the phone, Karen and I discussed this turn of events like people pretending to be rational adults. Then I called him back and said we would pick him up at 5 a.m. the next day and drive five hours to see the boat. We would sail her and drive back five more hours the same day.
The weather was terrible. There were small-craft warnings. I told the owner we would probably just look at the boat and not go out. He would have none of it. He said we would just use the “working jib,” the 110.
Accomplished sailor
We took that chalky blue boat out into what seemed to me like a raging sea. The owner turned out to be a very accomplished sailor. He and Mystic took the conditions in stride and, when we were clear of most of the hazards, I got the helm. Suddenly, I forgot the chalky blue topsides and the nearly complete lack of wooden surfaces exposed to the sun. This lady could dance! I had never dreamed that such a craft existed. We returned a few hours later completely impressed with the boat and perhaps equally so with her owner. I reasoned that such a man would not neglect such a craft.
We walked down the dock a bit ahead of him, holding hands. In a few seconds we agreed that we must have this boat. The price dickering took a while. He finally came down $50, and she was ours. I think perhaps she smiled.
In all the years since, the bond has only strengthened. Mystic is a lady who goes about her work with grace and enthusiasm. I’ve considered owning other boats, but I’ve never considered selling Mystic. She will be ours as long as she and I can still sail.
We were lucky.
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