Our first boat. My first boat.

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.



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