“On Buying A Boat”

We get the same questions over and over about the boat. Anytime we travel anywhere people ask, “did you sail here?” No we move at 5mph or less mostly. “Break out another thousand right?” If you’re a liveaboard it doesn’t need to be that way! “Do you get seasick at rest?” Only rarely. “You don’t have a shower?” Ok, ya that one can kind of suck.

Every once in awhile though, I meet someone/ have them aboard and they are entranced. They actually ask about the reality. This is my blog on our boat buying journey, and the easiest part of the boat owning experience. Hopefully this dissuades that person from trying it. Or encourages them. Guess it depends on what they are looking for.

Why We Bought A Boat

In 2019 we bought a mooring trying to prove that this was a viable option for a minimal lifestyle. Sure we liked the romance of it, but our bay in particular was used this way, and I knew many who had done this. For a few years growing up, I had lived in a “off grid-ish” trailer, and in my car the last year of college. Those situations sucked, but showed me what was possible. I thought with fancy tech and great planning, we could make this comfortable long term.

The plan was to buy a 36’ trawler, which was enough space for a simple bedroom, a office, shower, and a good sized galley. We wanted something that could costal cruise, but we were more interested in motoring between anchorages around CA and being able to live completely off grid. I calculated that for less than $100,000 we could own a very nice boat and mooring, and live on the water in one of our favorite places. If we could get through 3 years, it would be a worthy experiment.

For a year and half I tracked trawler models and prices weekly from Craigslist, read many books on working on a boat, and was getting ready to purchase. To get more experience, Korinne and I decided to become ASA Certified. This meant practicing on a small sailboat. Korinne absolutely fell in love with sailing, to the point where she suddenly was willing to forego a lot of space, comfort, and even a shower. Sailboats were of course cheaper, and I was excited about the idea of starting minimally and then getting a trawler as a second boat.

As the years of searching ticked by, it became clear that getting another boat later would be a pain. I had viewed many boats, put in competitive offers on 4, and even had one accepted and fall through because the owner was “no longer comfortable with an out of water survey”. The post covid boat market was crazy and poor timing for us. We needed a boat we could grow into, and by this point we were both just as interested in the sailing aspect, as in the housing hack.

As for what we wanted, our requirements for what was acceptable had narrowed as we learned more. The best advise is to just find a cheap boat and start, but it’s hard to do when safety is involved, and so much time must be spent fixing it. We wanted a boat made of fiberglass, with a narrow beam, a deep keel, and great upwind performance from the late 1970’s - 1990’s. We cared only about the structural condition, and didn’t care about upgrades or the interior at all. I think I had about 15 models that were acceptable in my list. Even with all this, in my entire search I didn’t find any boats which checked every box. The best got maybe 2/3rds which was fine.

Finding Paperwing

Eventually I found a almost new boat that was home built (a big red flag), but had a fascinating design philosophy and community around it. The only problems were that it was wood cored, wider beam, shallow keel, and had bad upwind performance. The opposite of everything we wanted. From a maintainability and safety perspective however, everything was meticulous. Everything was also unrealistically minimal, and the 10 HP engine in particular was going to be a problem. However, I wanted to convert to an electric engine someday, and this seemed the perfect base to build our dream boat from. After reading Voyaging On A Small Income who used the same boat design, we put in an offer and it was accepted.

When we met the owners/ builders at the sea trial, it quickly became clear that they were some of the most impressive/diligent/ insane people we’ll ever meet. Korinne and I do everything together, and we especially like working hard on dreams as a team. This couple had the same working style, but by this point in their life, they seemed perfectly synchronized. Endless respect for each other’s work and quirks, and each masters of so many complementary skills. In their life they had sailed the south pacific, started a successful business, had a kid, built a boat — so many things we dreamed of doing someday.

Needless to say, this was a lot. I was now much more confident in the quality of the home build, but also very intimidated. What was originally a housing hack, had spun out of control. Now we needed to build up the perfect boat and cross the Pacific ocean to fulfill a dream. I was a little unsure, but Korinne was more confident about this boat than any other. The story and romance made us feel a part of something, and as a boat owner, that’s sometimes what gets you through it. We bought the boat, and gained two good friends.

Moving Her Home

Our first dilemma was if we should sail it up ourselves, or get a delivery capitan. We had to go around Point Conception (“Cape Horn of the Pacific”), so we eventually opted for a delivery captain. The issue was most good delivery captains had no interest in moving a boat a couple hundred miles. They were too busy doing real passages. This left people who mostly just knew how to motor. In our case our engine was 10HP, and we were trying to cross Point Conception. We absolutely could not find anyone willing to make the trip. Something I hadn’t even considered being a possibility when I bought the boat.

We eventually found a diesel mechanic from our home port who was confident the trip would be easy. He had done it multiple times, and our engine had few hours on it. This was great, until he called us a few weeks before the trip in a panic. He had recently gone around Point Conception, and it had been a bad trip and he was now too scared. Terrified sounding actually. I was getting very worried that I had made a huge mistake. Eventually out of options, Korinne and I planned to just go ourselves. We asked the builders if this was feasible, and they encouraged it. It was only later that we would learn their idea of “feasible” can be a little insane.

We waited for a weather window that might work, and then with no experience beside a little bit of motoring and docking, night motored out of Long Beach on our way up the coast. Thankfully everything went fine, and our first sail on the boat was a great memory of seeing meteor showers in the sky, and much throwing up. When we made it to Channel Islands, I caught a break and one of the many people I had contacted called out of the blue. Previously he wouldn’t make the trip because I didn’t have an auto pilot (kind of valid to be honest), but now I think needed the money. He had never been a delivery captain, and we all struggled to figure out the rig. However he was a good sailor, and I was very happy to have him and his helper along. We passed Point Conception in my weather window, and it was no big deal.

Working On It

After finally getting the boat up to our mooring, I was feeling pretty good about myself. This was all going to be pretty manageable. Then the very first time we went out after getting the boat home, the head gasket blew on our engine. It didn’t happen out on the ocean either. It happened over a minute, with the current slowly pushing us into rocks. The harbor department had to swoop in and save us with seconds to spare. This was a horrible experience that shook me deeply. I then needed to spend the next month learning to rebuild an engine, and figure out what went wrong.

All that to say, this was just the start. To own a boat you must be an amateur mechanic, wood worker, electrician, seamster, plumber, painter, climber, metal worker, diver and sailor to a respectable degree. I’m sure I’m forgetting a few I’ve not needed to learn yet. And often you can’t ease into them. Everything will eventually break on a boat — no matter how good or minimal it is. I used to not know my way around a hardware store. Now I know most of the sections pretty well.

Would I Do It Again?

Yeah probably, but it wouldn’t be for the original reasons I wanted a boat. Financially and comfort wise it can work, and it’s very freeing knowing we can live comfortably in any conditions. But to get here we wasted years of our lives optimizing and learning about a subject that never feels finished. Our time and money would have been better spent compounding on other things.

What’s made us stick with it, is the way we still feel when we are sailing, at anchor, or even working on her. The feeling that our daily lives are a little silly and that, with this contraption of wood and glue, we can experience so much more of what the world has to offer. It reminds us that we are insignificant and capable, and that we can color outside the lines of life more confidently because of it. We’re incredibly emotional about her.

If you’re missing any of that in your life, a boat may be for you. It won’t be practical, and you’ll waste a lot of time, but it has filled that hole in our hearts. From talking with others and seeing what it’s done in us, I don’t expect that to go away. The days are long, and everything does go wrong constantly, but most of the time, cruising is the only thing I want to be doing. Or I’m throwing up from seasickness, waiting for it to be over while Korinne is on night watch. But that’s part of it as well.