One of the constant refrains I hear from folks looking for a boat is that they want zero wood on the exterior and certainly do not want to see any varnish. They are looking for minimal maintenance because maintenance conflicts with the boating experience. I have an older Grand Banks with a varnished transom, rails and trim on the exterior. It takes 40 hours a year to scuff, tape and topcoat all that varnish. And once done, there is some light maintenance throughout the season, which some would consider an annoying hinderance to enjoying their boating hours. My take is a little different
I am enjoying an early morning cup of coffee in the salon while the boat drifts around at anchor on glassy water. It rained last night, and the rails are covered with drops. The clouds are starting to break up and soon it will be time to wipe down the rails. I finish up, put on my rain boots, grab a towel and squeegee. As I get started on the “miles” of varnished rails and trim, the sun breaks through and lights up each drop before the towel takes it away. Too soon I am done and this post-rain-ritual that is so important to my boating experience is complete. Oh well, I console myself, the ship is well cared for and there is another cup of coffee waiting.
I wonder, in an effort to reduce the boat to just a vehicle to take us to the experience, do we skip experiencing the bond forged between ship and caretaker? I think author Kathrene Pinkerton said it well in 1940. “We thought a home afloat would only be an instrument for comfortable living while we wandered. ..for a ship comes to dwell in the hearts of the men who serve her, and for them she becomes alive. When that has happened, man and boat possess one another, and sacrifice and service are the expressions of that love.
Whimsical fantasy I know, but in our hyper-hustle-achieve-much world, perhaps a little whimsy isn’t so bad. And I know that for at least 40 hours every spring, I get to disconnect as another coat of varnish rolls on and another strand in the bond, is created.