Boating; To Sell or Not To Sell?
During an impromptu happy hour meeting of the “Dead End Canal Yacht Club” at a local watering hole a serious subject was addressed.
“I’m thinking of selling my boat,” said ‘Tim the Restorer.’ “The dock situation is getting real bad at the beach.”
“How so,” I asked in my best investigative reporting style.
“I got a dog,” ‘Tim the Restorer’ said after he finished sipping at his happy hour libation. He is a new member of the “Dead End Canal Yacht Club” but he doesn’t live on the canal so he’s what you’d call an ‘exception’. He was sponsored by “Indy John” because ‘Tim the Restorer’ did some restoration on his boat.
“A dog, huh? Now I understand?” I didn’t understand but that was okay. I knew he’d tell me what the dog had to do with his boat and the dock situation when he got around to it. So I waited until it was my turn to buy a round and I tried to leave but they caught me. Just kidding. (Nobody’s allowed to buy boatguy Ed a drink, period!)
“I’m really bummed. I love living on my boat…”
“You live on your boat? You can’t live on your boat and be a member of the “Dead End Canal Yacht Club” how did you get into this club? We have bylaws prohibiting ‘live-aboards’ and it has been in effect as long as I remember,” I said forcefully.
“He pays his dues and is really handy to have as a member,” interrupted Boston Bob while making air hammer and air saw motions.
“Pays his dues? Well, harrumph, harrumph, I, I guess we might make an exception,” I edited myself.
“What have you got against live-aboards,” ‘Tim the Restorer’ asked. He didn’t wait for my answer. “Anyway I got this dog and he won’t go, you know what I mean, go on the boat and if I have to live in the mooring field I’ll have to dinghy him ashore morning, noon and night and that cuts into my work day something awful!”
“What have I got against live-aboard,” I said answering his first question, “it’s the same thing that the State, County and the City of Fort Myers Beach has against them.” “What’s that?” someone asked. “I’m not sure but it must be something mighty powerful,” I said.
‘Tim the Restorer’ continued but I’m not sure we were having the same conversation. “Business is pretty bad right now. After I finish some work on a big yacht I might not have anymore work for a long time. I think I might sell my boat.” He had an uncommonly dour look on his face.
I wondered what I could have him do on my boat, at a discount rate of course. His mood brightened when a couple waitress from a neighboring watering hole came in and he disappeared.
Later, when I and a few other were getting ready to leave. ‘Tim the Restorer’ found me near the door watching for the beach taxi to arrive. “I can’t live on the hook again. Having running water, electricity, neighbors and walking distance to my favorite hot spots is too much to give up!”
“But the mooring field is the perfect answer to your situation. It’s cheaper than any other facility and in six months maybe all these dockage issues and your work situation will improve,” I hoped out loud.
The afternoon rain started way before the taxi arrived and I stared out at the deluge and reflected on all the live-aboards that I knew at Compass Rose Marina. There used to be 30 live-aboard slips and I chuckled when I thought about that diverse group. There were nurses, carpenters, cops, retirees, day laborers, boat yard workers and on and on and on.
The live-aboards tamed the rough marina after the sewage hook-ups and new docks became a community. The owner stopped packing a gun. There were minor problems associated with the working class residents, some were slow pay, a very few were no pay but the vast majority were hard working couples who either mingled well or kept to themselves.
That was before the ‘not in my backyard’ crowd attached the stigma to ‘living the free life on your own boat’. They used junk science to accuse anchored and privately docked live-aboards of polluting the back bay and spoiling the environment. I’m sure a small portion pumped human waste overboard but it was nothing compared to the leaking septic tanks.
The new city took over the back bay and many residents argued, “Those people don’t pay taxes,” but some business owners wanted their business. Taxes disguised the crux of the issue and now the characters hide out way back in the back bay.
Just as the taxi arrived ‘Tim the Restorer’ asked, “Your not going to put this in your column?” “What do you think,” I answered.
“Make sure you say I’m good looking……” Tim the Restorer’ can be contacted on the third bar stool from the left at the downstairs bar most happy hours. He does good work and remember he has a dog. His website is http://breweryachtservice.com/
boatguy Ed is a member of the “Dead End Canal Yacht Club.” For information on ‘Super Shipbottom’ paint and putting vim and vigor back into your ship call 466-5670 and find out how.