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Old 25-01-2015, 12:15   #241
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

The bimini on my Lagoon 420 is exactly 12' off the water. On my passage from Puerto Rico to the Chesapeake Bay, last summer, waves came over the bimini with a vengeance at times. The boat took a severe beating, and kept my sorry ass safe. I feel very close to that boat and address Heaven as her, georgous, and sometimes big girl.
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Old 25-01-2015, 16:38   #242
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Originally Posted by lesterbutch View Post
I'm sorry but all this emotional crap about boats leaves me cold. I can be emotional about my wife, or even a dog or cat, but not about a conglomeration of fiberglass, metal and paint! It's an inanimate object!
Hmmm...maybe you need a different boat...
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Old 25-01-2015, 16:55   #243
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Originally Posted by Celestialsailor View Post
Hmmm...maybe you need a different boat...
It's nothing to do with my boat, it's fine, but it's still an innanimate object! Love is not a word I can honestly use when dealing with material things.
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Old 25-01-2015, 16:57   #244
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Originally Posted by Celestialsailor View Post
Hmmm...maybe you need a different boat...
Interesting diagnosis, Celestial.

In our case, both of us bonded emotionally with the Insatiables we've had. For me, it happens because, as the chap above wrote, the boat takes good care of you when conditions are yucky, and also, I think, because of the time and effort personally invested.

Ann
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Old 25-01-2015, 17:37   #245
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

A wife who is unwilling to work out a compromise is not a good life partner IMHO. A marriage is all about compromise and if she knows how important this is to you and is unwilling to be flexible, that speaks volumes.


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Old 25-01-2015, 18:16   #246
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Originally Posted by S/V Illusion View Post
I was simply paraphrasing your last comments.

As to the most gorgeous boat, I think that title belongs to Gozzard.
Huh!! A Bayfield has nicer lines than an Alden?? O K each to his own, but.......
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Old 25-01-2015, 22:01   #247
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Spouse hates my boat

We sold our boat about 3 years ago-but the decision was not mutual. I loved to sail and loved our boat. She got us through storms and to beautiful sunsets.

I can't explain why I love an inanimate object. I'm pretty logical except for this boat thing. Maybe we love what brings us pleasure-what gets the endorphins flowing. Or maybe it is from a past life I never saw an ocean or sailed until my 40's.

OP~I hope however this works out for you, and you end up happy.

Gloria
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Old 25-01-2015, 22:49   #248
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Originally Posted by lesterbutch View Post
I'm sorry but all this emotional crap about boats leaves me cold. I can be emotional about my wife, or even a dog or cat, but not about a conglomeration of fiberglass, metal and paint! It's an inanimate object!
That may be true of some boats, but not necessarily all... ;-)

No one has ever said it better, especially the part I've bolded......

Quote:

THE SEA AND THE WIND THAT BLOWS

E.B White


WAKING OR SLEEPING, I dream of boats - usually of rather small boats under a slight press of sail. When I think how great a part of my life has been spent dreaming the hours away and how much of this total dream life has concerned small craft, I wonder about the state of my health, for I am told that it is not a good sign to be always voyaging into unreality, driven by imaginary breezes.

I have noticed that most men, when they enter a barber shop and must wait their turn, drop into a chair and pick up a magazine. I simply sit down and pick up the thread of my sea wandering, which began more than fifty years ago and is not quite ended. There is hardly a waiting room in the East that has not served as my cockpit, whether I was waiting to board a train or to see a dentist. And I am usually still trimming sheets when the train starts or the drill begins to whine. If a man must be obsessed by something, I suppose a boat is as good as anything, perhaps a bit better than most. A small sailing craft is not only beautiful, it is seductive and full of strange promise and the hint of trouble. If it happens to be an auxiliary cruising boat, it is without question the most compact and ingenious arrangement for living ever devised by the restless mind of man - a home that is stable without being stationary, shaped less like a box than like a fish or a bird or a girl, and in which the homeowner can remove his daily affairs as far from shore as he has the nerve to take them, close-hauled or running free -parlor, bedroom, and bath, suspended and alive.

Men who ache allover for tidiness and compactness in their lives often find relief for their pain in the cabin of a thirty-foot sailboat at anchor in a sheltered cove. Here the sprawling panoply of The Home is compressed in orderly miniature and liquid delirium, suspended between the bottom of the sea and the top of the sky, ready to move on in the morning by the miracle of canvas and the witchcraft of rope. It is small wonder that men hold boats in the secret place of their mind, almost from the cradle to the grave.

Along with my dream of boats has gone the ownership of boats, a long succession of them upon the surface of the sea, many of them makeshift and crank. Since childhood I have managed to have some sort of sailing craft and to raise a sail in fear. Now, in my sixties, I still own a boat, still raise my sail in fear in answer to the summons of the unforgiving sea. Why does the sea attract me in the way it does: Whence comes this compulsion to hoist a sail, actually or in dream? My first encounter with the sea was a case of hate at first sight. I was taken, at the age of four, to a bathing beach in New Rochelle. Everything about the experience frightened and repelled me: the taste of salt in my mouth, the foul chill of the wooden bathhouse, the littered sand, the stench of the tide flats. I came away hating and fearing the sea. Later, I found that what I had feared and hated, I now feared and loved.

I returned to the sea of necessity, because it would support a boat; and although I knew little of boats, I could not get them out of my thoughts. I became a pelagic boy. The sea became my unspoken challenge: the wind, the tide, the fog, the ledge, the bell, the gull that cried help, the never-ending threat and bluff of weather. Once having permitted the wind to enter the belly of my sail, I was not able to quit the helm; it was as though I had seized hold of a high-tension wire and could not let go.

I liked to sail alone. The sea was the same as a girl to me I did not want anyone else along. Lacking instruction, I invented ways of getting things done, and usually ended by doing them in a rather queer fashion, and so did not learn to sail properly, and still cannot sail well, although I have been at it all my life. I was twenty before I discovered that charts existed; all my navigating up to that time was done with the wariness and the ignorance of the early explorers. I was thirty before I learned to hang a coiled halyard on its cleat as it should be done. Until then I simply coiled it down on deck and dumped the coil. I was always in trouble and always returned, seeking more trouble. Sailing became a compulsion: there lay the boat, swinging to her mooring, there blew the wind; I had no choice hut to go. My earliest boats were so small that when the wind failed, or when I failed, I could switch to manual control-I could paddle or row home. But then I graduated to boats that only the wind was strong enough to move. When I first dropped off my mooring in such a boat, I was an hour getting up the nerve to cast off the pennant. Even now, with a thousand little voyages notched in my belt, I still I feel a memorial chill on casting off, as the gulls jeer and the empty mainsail claps.

Of late years, I have noticed that my sailing has increasingly become a compulsive activity rather than a source of pleasure. There lies the boat, there blows the morning breeze-it is a point of honor, now, to go. I am like an alcoholic who cannot put his bottle out of his life. With me, I cannot not sail. Yet I know well enough that I have lost touch with the wind and, in fact, do not like the wind any more. It jiggles me up, the wind does, and what I really love are windless days, when all is peace. There is a great question in my mind whether a man who is against wind should longer try to sail a boat. But this is an intellectual response-the old yearning is still in me, belonging to the past, to youth, and so I am torn between past and present, a common disease of later life.

When does a man quit the sea? How dizzy, how bumbling must he be? Does he quit while he's ahead, or wait till he makes some major mistake, like falling overboard or being flattened by an accidental jibe? This past winter I spent hours arguing the question with myself. Finally, deciding that I had come to the end of the road, I wrote a note to the boatyard, putting my boat up for sale. I said I was "coming off the water." But as I typed the sentence, I doubted that I meant a word of it.

If no buyer turns up, I know what will happen: I will instruct the yard to put her in again-"just till somebody comes along." And then there will be the old uneasiness, the old uncertainty, as the mild southeast breeze ruffles the cove, a gentle, steady, morning breeze, bringing the taint of the distant wet world, the smell that takes a man back to the very beginning of time, linking him to all that has gone before. There will lie the sloop, there will blow the wind, once more I will get under way. And as I reach across to the black can off the Point, dodging the trap buoys and toggles, the shags gathered on the ledge will note my passage. "There goes the old boy again," they will say. "One more rounding of his little Horn, one more conquest of his Roaring Forties." And with the tiller in my hand, I'll feel again the wind imparting life to a boat, will smell again the old menace, the one that imparts life to me: the cruel beauty of the salt world, the barnacle's tiny knives, the sharp spine of the urchin, the stinger of the sun jelly, the claw of the crab.
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Old 25-01-2015, 23:04   #249
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Originally Posted by lesterbutch View Post
It's nothing to do with my boat, it's fine, but it's still an innanimate object! Love is not a word I can honestly use when dealing with material things.
Perhaps you have never been in a situation where the boat saves your life.
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Old 25-01-2015, 23:35   #250
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Originally Posted by Sailor g View Post
...can't explain why I love an inanimate object...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ann T. Cate View Post
...the boat takes good care of you when conditions are yucky, and also, I think, because of the time and effort personally invested...
Like Ann said.

You get out of it according to what you put in. And boats have a special way of patting you on the back when you open your heart and give them the lovin' they need; they love you back.

Feel the love.
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Old 26-01-2015, 06:28   #251
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

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Perhaps you have never been in a situation where the boat saves your life.
Sounds rational, but sorry I have been on a trawler in 30-40 foot seas on the Grand Banks during a hurricane. The boat did what it was designed and built to do! It came through the storm. Did I love it? No! I appreciated the fact it performed as was intended, it was a good stout vessel. Perhaps my reluctance to use the word love is semantic, but to me it is only used on living things. Call me old fashioned, "and old"
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Old 26-01-2015, 07:27   #252
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

Before I posted that poem, I had to change it from being about the people in your life to being about the sailboats in your life. It was meant to throw something light-hearted into the conversation.

As I was changing the references to being about a boat, I found myself getting emotional about the wonderful times I've spent sailing and especially cruising. They are some of the best times of my life. It wasn't the boat, it was the people and places and experiences. But none of that would have happened without the boat.

There's something magical about being under sail, silently sailing toward your next destination. But without being able to share that with family and friends who are aboard, it wouldn't be so magical.
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Old 26-01-2015, 07:56   #253
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

That quote from "Wind in the Willows" was more specifically by "Pogo" that of course is neither here nor there. Another thing that I was told about sailing that I have found to be very true was that sailing is "hours of boredom intersperced by moments of sheer terror!" I guess the important point is that regardless of how we approch it, we all do it!
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Old 26-01-2015, 12:05   #254
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

His saying he should spend more time WATCHING his wife with her horses indicates she is into show horses, hunters and jumpers or Walkers or such.
Putting on my Dr. Phil hat, that would indicate she is into CONTROLLING horses, not so much enjoying their companionship. (I speak from about 60 years experience with those lovable, infuriating critters. When my last mare passed on, my wife said we couldn't have any more, so we got back into sailing. )
Maybe they should get into things like trail rides, horse camping or such, in addition to sailing.
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Old 26-01-2015, 12:25   #255
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Re: Spouse hates my boat

Maybe this explains how my boat miraculously reappeared in 2012 after being stolen in 2006!

She needs me!

Quote:
Originally Posted by Julie Mor View Post
Reason, Season, or Lifetime

Sailboats come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each sailboat.

When a sailboat is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
It has come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
It may seem like a godsend, and it is.
That sailboat is there for the reason you need it to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this sailboat will end the relationship.
Sometimes it sinks. Sometimes it tries to break you financially.
Sometimes it acts up and forces you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; the sailboat's work is done.

The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.

Some sailboats come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
It brings you an experience of peace or makes you happy.
It may teach you something you have never known or forced you to do something you never thought you could.
It usually gives you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season.

Sailboats that are there for a LIFETIME teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid personal foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the sailboat,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

It is said that love is blind but a sailboat is clairvoyant.

- Unknown Sailor

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