The Essentials of Living Aboard a Boat
Page 12
On this topic, your neighbors will make interesting sounds, whether simple conversation too early on a Sunday morning, the muffled sounds of love, or the sounds of disagreement and hate. Where and under what circumstances these sounds are initiated will determine whether and to what extent they will impose on your lifestyle and space. Some of these noises enhance the experience, while others disrupt and detract from it. Your close quarters will, however, make these noises a certainty.
Fourth, things smell. Odors will come from the water, things that live (or once lived) in the water, boats, toilets, sewage hoses and holding tanks, fuel (particularly diesel fuel), silicone, fiberglass, mold, your mates, and your neighbors. Some of these odors can be managed, and others cannot. If you spill some diesel fuel, you might continue to smell the residue for a very long time. Every so often a neighbor will do something offensive, such as empty his holding tanks into the water, thus creating a flowing layer of horrible putrid effluence throughout the marina. I guess his parents never told him it was inconsiderate to do things like that.
Fifth, with the exception of some rafthouses, boats are not weatherproof. Rafthouses, like land-based houses, are insulated by a siding and plywood frame on the outside, a thick layer of sheetrock or plasterboard on the inside, and fiberglass insulation filling the three-and-a-half-inch gap between the frame and the interior. Typically, there are at least six inches of heavy insulation at the roof and additional heavy insulation where the ceiling meets the attic. Most windows these days are double-pane argon-filled glass designed specifically for weather (and sound) insulation.
Care to guess how much insulation a boat has? None. It’s just fiberglass. Well, that’s not entirely true, as there might be two layers of fiberglass on either side of a thin piece of balsa wood or foam core. The ports might be only a thin piece of glass or plastic; hatches are typically made from a single pane of plastic, glass, Lexan, or acrylic, none of which is known for its insulating or soundproofing capabilities.
Lack of insulation means that (in addition to added noise) when cold water surrounds the boat, the interior hull and surfaces will chill. We will talk about this in the “Climate” chapter. When there’s cool or cold air, the boat’s topsides will chill. When it is cold and damp/rainy outside, everything will chill. This is not only uncomfortable, but it also results in condensation.
You must be mentally prepared to deal with these types of issues. If you have a spouse, or children, they will need to be prepared. These are some of the prices you will pay, and the sooner you realize that these challenges exist, the easier it will be for you to complete your final mental preparations.
Comfort
We spoke about comfort in the section “Choosing A Boat,” including issues such as headroom, layout, and space. These, and many like them, are examples of the types of comfort issues you need to consider and decide on initially when reviewing your choice of possible boats. You also want to be comfortable with your location and neighbors.
Comfort means other things as well. To me, comfort means not only having a great boat, but also feeling warm and cozy. I like to feel comfortable at night when I read and watch TV; I like to have a soft place to sit and sleep. No one enjoys sitting in wet clothes or sleeping on wet berths, so comfort also means being dry.
Everything aboard can and will become damp and possibly damaged. Pillows get damp. A damp pillow can take forever to dry and can become moldy from the inside out. Many household pillows will do this. Down blankets and pillows are certain to fail, and as wonderfully cozy as down can be, real down is likely a disaster for the liveaboard lifestyle. Synthetic down might be a more sensible solution; consult with the manufacturer and retailer for more information.
Note: While the Internet is a fine resource for just about anything that anyone could need to know, calling the manufacturer is often the best resource. Got a question? Find the manufacturer’s number and pick up the telephone. These people are experts concerning their products and are often very willing to tell you more than you could ever wish to know.
Life Aboard
Essentials
Your job is to figure out what you need to be happy and comfortable. The question is what sacrifices you are willing to make—and you need to be firm regarding any sacrifices that you are not willing to make. Sounds pretty basic, but it is surprising how many liveaboards start out by making unfortunate concessions and then never quite rectify them, misspending their money on amenities that do nothing to erase the sacrifices that are making their lives uncomfortable. There may not have been a bigger culprit at this than I, as I spent my first two years living aboard making many incorrect decisions.
Unfortunately, a liveaboard who uses his or her vessel as an operational boat has a dilemma: Are you primarily in a boat, or in a living space? This is a personal question; the answer depends not only on your wants and needs, but also on the kind of liveaboard you want to be, the conditions surrounding your boat, whether or not she is a cruising boat, how long she will be away from land, and such considerations.
For my first two years living aboard, my biggest mistake was not understanding that I was a liveaboard first, with a corporate day job and suits filling the locker. My cruising was limited, for the most part, to weekday nights and weekends, and I never spent a single night under way, although I did spend many nights at anchor. I incorrectly spent money on upgrading the boat as if it were a true cruising vessel, and yet never purchased comfortable cushions for the deck or salon. And while I had a lot of clothes, I didn’t have really comfortably warm and cozy clothes.
I’ve since learned that I’m a liveaboard even more than a boater—though I do hope to take a boat around the world. I deserve to be more comfortable in my home. I want and expect warm clothes and a comfortable berth and salon.
My essential comfort possessions include (remembering that I live in the Northeast of the United States where the climate can be damp and temperatures extreme):
Clothing
*Wool-lined slippers
*Long underwear
*Hiking socks
*Waterproof socks
*Rain or foul-weather gear
I want to be sure that I am warm, comfortable, cozy, and protected from the elements.
Salon
*Comfortable cushions
*Candles/lanterns for ambiance
*Stereo/MP3 Player
*TV/DVD Player
*Laptop computer/Internet access
*Fans and ventilation
Since this is my home, I should be able to watch the news and do my work in a comfortable space.
Galley
*Stove/Pots with locking lids/Rubber hot mitts/Galley strap
*Non-skid plates, bowls, cups, and silverware
*Adequate cookware
It is obviously important that liveaboards be able to prepare food safely under all circumstances. Boiling water sure can be hot when it spills on you in shaky conditions.
Bedding
*Suitable blankets
*Extra sheets fitted for the berths
*Pillows
*Great mattress
Keep in mind that your bedding will get wet. Be sure that the bedding can withstand moisture and can dry quickly.
Deck
*Comfortable cushions and places to sit
*A protective system for sun and a weather protection system (dodger, bimini, and/or canvas tarp)
*Hammock
Be comfortable, cozy, safe, and not trapped inside the boat. I enjoy having outdoor speakers playing music to the cockpit as well, and I like to sit on deck in all conditions.
Overall
*Adequate heating system
*110v shore power with outlets
*Battery charger/Dual batteries with isolated starter battery
*Moisture absorbing paper and system
Again, warm and safe. And dry! The battery charger is important for two reasons: First, you don’t want to have to run your engine at dock in order to charge
your batteries; and second, for cold-climate liveaboards, your engine will be inoperable during the winter, since it will likely need to be decommissioned for safety. Consequently, a shore power system and charger are essential.
Having learned my lessons, for my comfort I consider the listed items non-negotiable. While I spent my time buying and installing a new high-powered alternator, battery monitor, lazy jacks, and refrigeration, I should have invested in the above-listed items sooner and with less thriftiness.
Here are some more interesting bits of advice that are important for liveaboards.
• Use a permanent marker to write on top of the can; label the contents of all your canned goods. The moisture in a boat will cause the paper labels to fall off.
• Get used to wearing the same clothes over again, cutting the amount of clothes aboard and number of times you need to do your laundry. Some liveaboards I know only own two pairs of shorts, one pair of jeans, and some shirts (in addition to socks, underwear, and a few pairs of shoes).
• Take SUPER care when boarding or disembarking with a cell phone or keys in your hand. They will find their way into the drink when you least expect it. Always have backup keys.
• When going to the store, consider buying what can be carried or easily brought to your boat in a cart in one trip. And then be so kind as to return the dock cart to the proper location for others to use.
• Don’t rely on paper matches, as they will deteriorate with the moisture and fail when you need them most. If you have paper matches, be sure to put them in sealable plastic bags. But the best options are tools that will create flame without any risk of damage by moisture.
• Showering adds a lot of moisture to the air. Cut the time spent in the shower and use lower temperatures to decrease steam.
• The less time you boil water, the better—this puts moisture into the air and uses up stove fuel. The fastest way to boil water is to use a wide pot and only as much water as needed.
• Learn boating etiquette and follow the rules. Asking for permission to come aboard, among other things, is a matter of respect and should be practiced until you know your neighbors and their requirements. When joining a party or gathering, bring something to contribute. It is amazing how quickly you will be identified as the person looking for a free meal or drink.
Cruising
It is very hard to speak about the preparation for cruising, since there are so many varieties of boaters, boats, cruising grounds, techniques, etc., and there are some wonderful resources written by world cruisers on their preparation, experiences, and safety. Read as many of these as possible and listen most carefully to the challenges that have been experienced.
Many liveaboards never take their boats away from their slips; some are even without an operational boat. The rest of us still plan on heading out, and even though we are not going offshore, there are essential needs for our comfort and the safe operation of our boats. As discussed earlier, this is not a book on boating, but on living, and it doesn’t make sense to take up much time with information that is available in so many other places. Nonetheless, a moment on this subject is in order.
Make sure you have a boat that has been fully prepared to cruise safely and reliably, and that you have (at a minimum) the required provisions and safety gear necessary to keep you afloat and alive in the event of a problem.
Regardless of how far you take your boat, some form of a communication system is essential for safety reasons. All systems fail at some point, and a handheld radio for communications and weather updates is critical. To communicate with neighboring boats and shore, to call for assistance, information, and advice, you must have a working communication system on board.
A global positioning system (GPS) is now regarded as essential for cruising, and a basic unit can be acquired economically. A good chart of your cruising grounds is also essential—unless, of course, you are cruising in a body of water with no obstructions.
You must have a horn, extra dock lines (longer than you think you’ll need), a good primary anchor with more chain and rode than you will think you will need, and a competent backup anchor. Also important is safety gear such as a manual water pump and wooden bungs to block burst hoses.
Ironically, many boaters have far more equipment on board than they need. With a GPS and a chart, you should know exactly where you are. Chartplotters, autopilots, and radar are all wonderful enhancements that might be essential for some boaters under some conditions, but in general they are not essential, since their functions can be replaced with manual labor, a pair of eyes, and a little conscious thought (although I did an extended ocean cruise recently and couldn’t imagine having to take the trip without an autopilot). The advertisements for these products are compelling, designed to make every boater buy gear he might not need. Of course, that’s not to say that chartplotters aren’t totally cool!
We haven’t discussed life jackets, flares, fire extinguishers, throwable life preservers, man-overboard systems, EPIRBs, and other safety gear that is either required by regulations, or highly recommended. Take the time to learn safety requirements and survival needs. All cruising is potentially dangerous and requires a competent captain at the helm, knowledgeable about the boat systems, conditions, and cruising grounds. The boat should be prepared adequately and should be safe not only for the knowledgeable crew, but also for passengers who might have had one drink too many.
Chris Birch’s Aft Desk and Office
Tara Densler, Elizabeth Starkey, and LeAnn Helms
during a sleepover aboard
Stories She Could Tell
Endeavor 37, St. Augustine, Florida
8. Families, Children, and Pets
Everyone living aboard can tell wonderful and interesting stories about the lifestyle, but typically few stories are as interesting as those of the families, particularly families with young children. These families give up houses and yards, as well as individual space and privacy. They leave surplus clothes, shoes, toys, and other “excesses” of life ashore.
The transition to life aboard is complex enough for a single person; it is quite a bit more difficult when the culture shock is experienced by several people at the same time. Land dwellings offer shelter and privacy behind visual and sound barriers, bedrooms and playrooms where children can develop and grow privately (for better or worse), and sometimes multiple bathrooms and dressing areas. Most boats don’t offer these luxuries.
Living in close quarters requires that people like and respect each other. It’s probably not the place to go for families that aren’t getting along, or for families that think forced communal living will compel everyone to like each other. Respect and tolerance could not be more important. And there will be physical contact, even if it is just trying to squeeze by the same gangway or hallway. Every sound and smell is shared, every mistake magnified, so that every person’s problem becomes every other person’s problem. When one person watches TV, everybody else will participate in the experience.
It is interesting how appealing this sounds to many families, and how appalling it sounds to others. The chemistry and timing must be right. The individuals’ interests must be shared. Boats are hard work, and while having a team of people participating in the chores sounds like a blessing for most liveaboards, having less than a team effort is sure to add resentment to the already tight space. Throughout this book, we‘ve talked about how small a boat can be for just one person; add another and the space diminishes substantially. Add a few more and you create a wonderful system of communal living . . . in a fraction of the space of a commune.
Spouses/Partners
Liveaboard couples talk about how they know more about their partners than they could ever have expected or should ever want to know.
The best liveaboard couples are amazing in their enjoyment of each other’s company, as well as how perfectly complementary they are in their roles. Moreover, the best liveaboard couples truly enjoy the liveaboard lifestyle. They, separately
and together, want to be aboard, enjoying the sunsets and water and wind and atmosphere.
Those who like to touch and sit together and who are not troubled by the close contact are candidates for this lifestyle. Couples that share interests and objectives, as well as lifestyles, are ideal. Few boats can offer separate accommodations for the private space of multiple people. I have interviewed many couples that have undertaken this lifestyle, several of whom have lived aboard for a decade or more. Their love for each other is palpable and evident in every aspect of the boat. One couple described their relationship as “lovie-dovie”; they were in physical contact with each other throughout much of the interview.
In contrast, another couple never made contact at all while we talked. All the while drinking rum, the couple finished each other’s sentences and occasionally barked at each other. But they understood each other, and it was clear to me that while they were very different, each complemented the other. Together now in what is for each a second marriage, this couple is interesting: He has always had a strong love for the water, and she (before they met) had never imagined living aboard. Yet they function as a team, each with specific responsibilities while under way and at anchor, and they have always struck me as a finely-tuned operation.
But in general, couples that need space might not be as well suited to the lifestyle. The truest example of a lack of space is found in the companionways (hallways) of a boat, in which two people cannot maneuver without making contact. This close contact is a part of the environment and while embraced by some, becomes a source of friction (no pun intended) for others.