Random Reflections About Living Aboard Re Metau
Top 10 Annoyances About
Life at sea is an an asylum for many romantic, melancholy, and absent-
minded souls. The space in which we live isn't even big enough to entertain an echo. It's prone to palsy motions, strange
sounds, and peculiar smells, and one must forever remain with a weather eye open.
have asked us what the biggest hassles are about living aboard versus living in a house. Some of these people just want to
dump on our dream, but for those people who are looking for the facts to better assess their own motivations, we accommodate
with a list of some of the annoyances.
1. Always Something Expensive to Do
Huh? I said that
was one of the pleasures about life aboard didn't I? At least without the Expensive part. Don and I have often debated whether
it was true that a boat is far more work than a house. We don't have a lawn to mow each week, but we have a hull to wash and
scrape each month. It took us a minimum of 3 hours to properly clean the inside of our house (and we are tidy people), it
takes us about 30 minutes to clean the inside of our boat. My argument is that if a person were to do all the maintenance
suggested by every household appliance, and were to keep an immaculate yard, clean gutters and freshly painted siding - the
work would be equal. But it is rare when a home-owner feels obliged to do that level of upkeep. It's not likely that a life
threatening situation would occur because the paint on a window pane is peeling.
all the projects and maintenance required to keep a ship in shape can get a little overwhelming. You know the adage - A boat
is a hole in the water that you throw money into. And if you want to reduce that amount, you can plan on spending a lot of
time doing the work yourself. I say a house is just a hole in the ground that you throw money into as well. No one looks at
a house in that manner because it's allegedly an investment that will most likely be recouped once sold. I say allegedly because
several expenses to the financial investments made in a house are often over-looked, and most likely the seller is going to
take the profit from that investment and turn into a buyer, who is paying for someone else's investment. It's just a vicious
|~ Don Doing Our Bottom Job ~ |
In any event, a boat can and should never be viewed as a financial asset. It is more accurate to equate the
investment properties of caring for a boat to raising children. They are expensive, take a lot of your time, and can cause
a great deal of headache and pain. But properly cared for, they will provide you with endless joy, steadfast loyalty and a
great deal of pride.
|~ Neptune in his Special Spot ~ |2. Nothing is 'Right at Hand'
It is fair to assume there is less available
storage on a boat then in a house. And it is easy to conclude that things need to be stored properly so as not to go flying
while underway. However, there is one unexpected disparity about storage in a house verses storage on a boat.
In a house,
you have logical places for things - food, pots and dishes in the kitchen, towels and sheets in the linen closet, coats and
boots in the mud room. On an ocean cruiser such as ours - there is no real such separation of space. So you store where things
fit, and try very hard to remember where that was. Some people make maps and lists of what is stored where. Organization is
the key to having a clue as to where your stuff is.
One bit of guidance I've received regarding life on a cruiser was
to only open the ice box for short periods of time. Well I find this expectation most humorous. It is not uncommon for me
to have to completely empty the fridge to get at whatever it is I'm going in for.
When it's time to retrieve something
from some cubby or locker, I've figured out that it's just easier to remove everything on top then to try and exhume the item
through everything else in the space. But it's a good way to keep balance with only having necessities on board, and it causes
us to clear-out anything that isn't useful.
|~ The SCUBA Shark at Wahoos, Islamorada ~ |3. Boat Bites
Every boat project must include a little
skin and blood. We’ve come to call these 'Boat Bites'. Don and I are never without cuts, bruises, bumps and scrapes.
Our band aids have migrated from the dark recesses of the first aid kit, to just inside the medicine cabinet, to the top of
the salon table along with our tenth tube of Neosporin. Like Olympic athletes we competitively compare our wounds with honor.
"Look, I was awarded the purple toe for the dropping wrench on foot event. I think that beats your bronze welt in the
vanish scraping with heat gun category."
I’ve come to regard scar tissue as a sign that we’re running behind
on boat work. Re Metau coaches us toward the final objective, challenging us to endure the pain and goading us to strive for
perfection. So we twist our ankles, scrape our shins and bang our elbows trying to make her proud of our achievements.
we’ve not experienced anything too severe. We aren’t complete klutzes and we do try to take all the safety measures
possible. But let’s face it; we’re dealing with tight spaces, constant motion, years of neglect and a somewhat
demanding vessel. She only deserves the very best and at the finish line, we are always rewarded.
4. The World is
|~ Diana Askew at the Helm ~ |
Ok - so it has been many centuries since anyone believed that the world was flat. But the
majority of land dwellers occupy very square, flat and level spaces. Take a quick look around your environment right now and
compare the number of cubical shapes you see to the number of spherical shapes. Millions of years later we still praise the
invention of the wheel, but we depend on the utility of the straight line.
It stands to reason that we tend more toward
squares in our daily utility of man-made creations. With basic math we can measure a line; basic geometry will tell us an
angle. However it takes calculus to analyze a curve. More things can be packed in a cube. Gravity and motion have less power
on a cube. Like lazy architects we settle on the simplistic nature of straight lines. And so, we surround ourselves with flat
surfaces, and create a level world. Unless you live on a sailboat.
We have very few flat surfaces, and the level plane
changes with the wind. Our walls are concaved, our angles are never right. The power of gravity and motion are constantly
revealed to us as things not strapped down at least at 3 points will soon tilt, slide, fall or fly. The frustration comes
when we try to employ objects originated on terra firma in our wavy world. Try stocking a refrigerator that is shaped like
a quarter of an avocado. Try putting fitted sheets on a trapezoid mattress. Imagine your floor shaped like an open clamshell,
or picture yourself standing inside a bowl trying to stack boxes up the sides.
I understand the reason for each curve
on our vessel, and I have grown to love the lines of Re Metau. I look around at nature and see no truly straight columns,
no sharp angles, no boxlike shapes. I believe the need to have all things straight, level and flat is due to man's obsession
with manipulating his environment. Perhaps I am more annoyed that I find it difficult to adapt to this more natural form.
|~ My Boating Besties ~ |5. Good-bye Friends
Like dogs greeting their own kind in the park, we vigorously
wag our hands at any passing human we see on the water. All these wonderful people come floating into our lives with whom
we have so much in common, and so much to share. In some instances, one or the other of us has journeyed for extended periods
of time, isolated from the human race. We tend to bond almost immediately with other sailors, becoming tight knit traveling
And then all too soon it seems, the time for someone to sail on to a new destination arrives. This is perhaps
the hardest thing about being a live-aboard. You try to gather for the grand sendoff, but so often the anchor is hoisted quickly,
a weather window opens, and silently a member drifts off. You're joyous about the adventures ahead, but sad about the break
in the bond.
6. It will Fall
into the Water
|~ Don in Snorkeling Euphoria ~ |
Have you ever noticed when you're in the bathroom, and the lid of the toilet seat
is up, that anything you drop - no matter how far way - will bounce and do a perfect NBA arc right into the bowl. Two points
if it's not your toothbrush. Water must have some mysterious magnetic forces yet to be recognized by the scientific community.
we are surrounded by it on all sides. It doesn't matter how hard we try and keep a good grip on our tools - many of them are
now lost at sea. I try to center myself on the deck, crouching around whatever it is I'm working on, and inevitably a screw
or nut will magically fly up and dive into the deep blue. On the occasions we go to purchase those essential, and expensive
stainless steel fasteners for the project du jour, I always buy extras as alms to King Neptune.
Cell phones, groceries,
shoes, jewelry, all have gone to a soggy grave. I would venture to bet that the most common item lost to the ocean floor would
be sunglasses. I don't believe I've met a boater yet who has not contributed at least one pair to the depths. While diving,
it would not surprise me to discover an entire school of giant grouper sporting Maui-Jims while on the hunt. Cuts down the
glare and stylish to boot - they would consider these gifts, bestowed from that alien space above their watery world.
times it's not just small, inanimate objects taking the plunge. Don has rescued several of our dock mates, as well as our
cat Neptune on more than one occasion. So far we’ve been spared the indignity of taking any unexpected dips ourselves,
although we’ve been told it’s just a matter of time.
7. It Will Rust, Stain, or Fade
|~ The Manatee River Bascule Bridge Guard ~ |
it doesn't fall into the water - it will rust. Not eventually, not slowly over time. It will rust right before
your very eyes. It doesn't matter what type of metal it is. Eventually it will corrode, tarnish, oxidize; whatever
reaction the ocean can extract from the metal, it will. In a matter of weeks, cans of food will be
nibbled on by the salty air. Chrome rails will display burnt sienna blemishes days after polishing. Bronze and
copper all turn sea green and stainless steel is little more than cud, endlessly gnawed on by the hungry sea.
it isn't metal, it will get stained. The ocean works at absorbing all it can into its body in what ever way
it can. With heat, moisture, and constant agitation, it endeavors to digest everything it
touches. And in this environment many things liquefy or turn gooey. Grease, ink, dye, coffee, varnish, sea
spray, you name it. It will jump up, spill over, melt onto or drip off of something and inevitably leave a
stain. I am certain that all Don has to do is look at a tube of caulk and it leaps onto his shirt. Our good
clothes are the ones with the least amount of noticeable stains. And the ironic thing is -
most of the stains are rust colored.
But we don't lose sleep about the stains, because it is only a matter
of time until, like all deep hues, it will completely fade. What the sea doesn't alter, the sun
does. It saps all the pigment from most any material, bleaching everything to a chalky pastel. According
to the sun, brilliant colors are reserved for fish and flowers only.
And so, we admire
from afar the shiny surfaces, luxurious textures and vibrant colors applied to things that will long endure
in safe seclusion from the sunlight and sea air. To have such things aboard would be imprudent, for by and
by these things would inevitably become nothing more than fodder for the elements.
|~ Marathon City Marina Dinghy Dock ~ |8. You are where Everyone Wants to Be
Again - Didn't I say that was one of
the pleasures about life aboard? Well - there are consequences to being located in vacation hot-spots. When everyone retreats
to the same place, there is no place left to retreat from everyone. Traffic and crowds are thick on any sunny day, and
during certain times we don't even bother to attempt going ashore. Even normally peaceful anchorages become magnets to raucous
We've also experienced the ugly American tourist on more than one occasion. For some reason, when these
people are away from home they revert to adolescence - forgetting how to use a trashcan, failing to pick up their toys from
outside, disregarding quiet time, cutting in line, and generally being rowdy and insufferable.
One day we were cooling
off on the edge of a small and crowed pool when a 300+ pound, debatably post-pubescent man decided it would be a good idea
to do a cannonball into the midst of all the waders. Truly this was indication of some seriously inebriated brain cells. Indisputably
it was rude and with our patience now drenched, we took our leave.
We understand that these people are on holiday,
want to relax and have fun. But it sometimes seems like we are perpetually hosting really obnoxious out-of-towners. We are
the ones who are left to rescue the sea life caught in the thoughtlessly abandoned plastic rings and fishing line. We are
the ones who have to retrieve the deckchair and flip-flops from the water. We are the ones surrounded by the trash carelessly
We've met many wonderful people on holiday with whom we have thoroughly enjoyed talking to and relaxing
with during their short respite. But if going on vacation means taking leave of your senses, reverting to a childish state,
completely shedding all your personal responsibilities and really pickling your mind, I suggest you check into a sanitarium
rather than a hotel. They are far better equipped to accommodate you there.
9. Meet the Head
|~ Neptune and the Mast ~ |
The systems related to the marine toilet on a boat are referred to as ‘the head’. They are somewhat complex,
with a series of vents, tubes, pumps and seals, all designed to manage waste no larger than rabbit droppings. At the end of
this labyrinth of piping is a holding tank, in our case strategically located just underneath the berth and sized to store
a day's worth of waste from no more than two little bunnies.
When we moved aboard it was just a wild guess how much our
tank would hold, as we had no means to monitor how full it was and frankly I had no idea how many gallons of waste Don and
I were capable of producing in a day. After all the material possessions we purged from our lives, as live-aboards we are
required by law to carry our sh-t around with us - literally.
I've often read that more cruising dreams have been shattered
by the head, than any other piece of equipment onboard a vessel. You can have your electronics fail and still see your way
on paper charts. You can have your engine break down and still move forward on sail power. It may seem vexing, but you can
do without your refrigerator, your air conditioner, your stereo, or any other of those creature comforts. But when your head
starts causing problems - there is nowhere to run and hide from the stench.
I know from experience there is no viler
odor than human waste. Especially when it has been stored in a tank, churned into a viscous sludge and allowed to ferment
in the summer heat. When our holding tank backed up from having company put too much demand in it, there was no
sleep to be had – by anyone on board. My most dreadful experience with the head was having the pump-out tube erupt in
a volcanic explosion right into my face. I could not get to the shower fast enough and have gone through a great deal of self
hypnosis to erase that experience from my memory.
This is one system on a boat that does not allow its problems to go
unnoticed. If the neglected tribulations of human relationships could produce smells akin to the marine head, the attack on
everyone’s olfactics would demand an immediate solution and the world would be a far more compassionate place for the
10. No Live-Aboards Alowed
|~ Abandoned Marina at Tarpon Springs ~ |At every level of government in the State of Florida, live-aboards
are regard as unsavory citizens who should be ceremoniously denied an existence. We are blamed for polluting the waters, accused
of being freeloaders who don’t pay property taxes, vilified as vagrant bums, and disparaged as an obstructive nuisance
to the “real” resident’s waterfront views. With these manufactured accusations securely circulated, many
of the municipalities along this state’s two-thousand miles of tidal shoreline have tried to outlaw our way of life.
It is true that in most any anchorage live some less than desirable boat-dwellers whose dilapidated vessels are no longer
navigable. They may indeed be ‘bilge rats’ whose sole support to the local economy is down at the wharf side watering
hole. We refer to this as affordable housing, and know the occupants have chosen the shelter of a berth over that of a bridge.
Correspondingly, on terra firma live some less than desirable occupants whose derelict houses remain protected from unlitigated eviction.
On land, if a particular dwelling is deemed dangerous, the deed holder gets a day in court and it would be thought ludicrous
for the State of Florida to outlaw ALL habitation in a suburb just because of a few objectionable neighbors.
the water, we’re all rousted into the same boat and given the heave-ho by local legislation, whose unwarranted acts
conflict with the more appropriate Admiralty Laws that apply to aqueous activities. Because of these legal contradictions,
cases against counties who strive to curtail long term cruisers are occasionally brought to the courts, but moving to a more
welcoming mooring is more likely to occur.
To me, the accusations that are lofted our way contradict the very nature
of those of us who consciously choose an aquatic home. It makes no sense for us to pollute the water we float on, dive in, and desalinate to drink AND
being permanently unplugged from a petroleum powered grid, we often generate our own electricity
with the renewable resources predominant to our way of life - wind and sun. Thus we are much less impactful to the environment
than the carbon footprint left by the average American home.
We vote, we pay property taxes within our marina and
mooring field fees, and we’re subject to even more government taxation via annual boat registration fees, dinghy registration
fees, and outboard motor registration fees.
Many of us have jobs, and a lot of our cash is sunk into the seaside communities
where we anchor. Finally, the very irony of being thought of as an obstruction to a waterfront view is evident on the
very walls of these ocean side villas where portraits of sailboats floating on serene seas are commonly included in the décor.
The deep blue bottomless soul of the sea pervades nature and mankind in a way that intrigues us, enchants us, and
romances us. As live-aboards and fulltime cruisers, we’ve revolutionized our way of life and entered into this
coveted realm of unconventional autonomy. We should not be outcasts, just because we’ve chosen an extraordinary
existence, but more importantly – I believe we should be embraced for charting new passageways to a more creative, caring
© 2013 Diana E Reynolds - SV Re Metau. All rights reserved.
"Everything can be found at sea according
to the spirit of your quest." ~ Joseph Conrad