There comes a point in every boat owner’s life—after the struggles of his twenties, the terror of the initial investment—when he realizes he can relax a bit. He doesn’t need to take late-season trips to the Banks, doesn’t need to captain the boat month in and month out. At thirty-six, it’s time to start letting the younger guys in, guys who have little more than a girlfriend in Pompano Beach and a pile of mail at the Crow’s Nest.
