My apologies to Lynn. Inconceivable is OUR boat. But, though it is not her first boat, it is mine. For that reason, this introductory post is personal — A light on the intimate relationship of a man and his first boat. I will be playing it a little fast and loose with the pronouns. I guess, for that reason, I should also apologize to the grammatically conscious readers struggling to get through my inelegantly crafted prose… But, I won’t – deal with it.
Our intention was to find a floating summer home — Something to satisfy my love of sailing and Lynn’s desire for a floating summer home. Little did I know, a year later, I would be in love with this pretty little boat in a way I never imagined possible, and find myself caring for her like a beloved member of the family.
From the first moment aboard… You know that feeling – Stepping onto a strange deck, getting that first reaction? Inconceivable felt right. Like a good handshake: Instantly engaged in the connection, open to developing a new relationship. That’s what it was like.
Over time, that feeling has developed into a close friendship. A few days away gets me all, “It’s time for a hang with Inconceivable.” Schedules are adjusted, plans are made, and I look forward to her approving nod as I walk up the dock. And, now, jumping aboard…
The handshake has turned into a hug. My feet and the deck connect. We speak to each other, we laugh, we dance. Her rigging sings a delightful song. It’s really quite beautiful.
Post Script: As of this writing, Inconceivable is on the hard. And, even though there is a long list of projects of varying urgency awaiting attention, I find myself longing for her return to the water. By the way, I am by no means a fair weather sailor. It’s just that a couple things on that list require access below the waterline. Still, I just want her back where she belongs — Afloat.