FIRST-TIME
“Where is the outboard?”
“It’s a sterndrive, Sir.”
“Can you park anywhere?”
“You have a designated mooring, Sir.”
“How many tenders do I need to dangle over the side?”
“It’s fenders, Sir, and four is typical on a boat of this size.”
Like many in these strange times our journey into boat ownership was far from by design. It took a relocation to North Wales and a combination of a birthday milestone (50), semi-retirement and a pandemic enforced abstinence from foreign holidays to leave us with a little more free time and a lot less swiping of the credit card. What were we going to do with this sudden unexpected bounty? I have always loved boats. We had hired modest power boats before on foreign holidays (sans permit, naturally) and I enjoyed admiring the posh ones bobbing in marinas from La Rochelle to Puerto Sóller. But never had I thought of owning one. The key dynamic in my relationship with boats was that someone else did that. I had always assumed the hassle and cost of ownership to outweigh the pleasure of a short summer season. A bit like a race horse or a helicopter; fun to ride on, post the Instagram story and then hand the keys back. If racehorses had keys, that is…
And then we found
