Summering on the hard…
C.E. Grundler
In past years, spending July and August in a land-bound state was a lonely arrangement. Most other happy boaters had long since launched and were enjoying their days afloat. In our treks between the shed and the head, we’d see them out there, cars parked by the water’s edge, the docks bustling with life and boats skimming up and down the river. We’d sigh and think, ‘someday.’ Someday we won’t be sitting in isolation, watching from the distance.
Well, we’re not floating yet, but we’re no longer isolated either. No, these days, there’s as much going on around the dusty corners of the lot as there is on the water, courtesy of Sandy’s visit last fall. Yes, many boats were damaged beyond repair, and they sit off to one corner, battered and shattered reminders of that storm. Other boats were professionally repaired, thanks to their insurance companies, and they’re back on the water and occupying the repaired docks, along with the fortunate vessels that came through unscathed. But there’s another group as well – the ‘not-quite-dead-yet’ boats. The insurance companies declared them total losses. They were still salvageable, but would cost more to be professionally repaired than they were worth. Their owners were sent settlement checks, and the boats went up for sale at bargain basement prices. In many cases the original owners immediately bought back their beloved boats; in other cases a new owner got the chance to acquire a boat that otherwise would have been out of reach, all for a small price and a large amount of DIY work. I saw a fairly new 40’ Mainship trawler with only cosmetic damage sold for $1,500. The owner of a 36’ Grand Banks received a check for the full value of the boat, then bought it back for a small fraction of the settlement. Everywhere you turn, there’s another story, though they all have a common thread. Thanks to Sandy, countless boaters, new and old, are getting a crash course in DIY fiberglass, engine, and so-on, repair.
These days, when you pull into the yard, the sound of music and power tools fills the air, and tyvek-clad shapes bustle about. One fellow, who lost his home, a spacious barge/houseboat, is putting finishing touches on a smaller and long-neglected houseboat, which is now cheerfully decked out with patio lights, deck chairs and an umbrella. Behind a scarred up sloop there’s a picnic table and barbeque grill. There’s a certain camaraderie that has grown among these land-bound boaters. Everyone is sharing war stories, tips and tricks, and that all important extra set of hands, over cold drinks and a weary smile. We all reminisce about days past, dream of days to come, and give a collective shudder at the projections for the coming hurricane season. But through it all, throughout the yard, there is an undercurrent of hope, of optimism, and new friendships forged as these boats get a second chance. And in the end, despite the heat and the work, it’s made being on the hard for the summer a little less unbearable.
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