Life on Board

Having always been a bit of a people watcher I find itand foamy it was to be. I threw off all my gear, acting
extremely interesting the differing reactions that peoplecasually and slunk to the furthest vacant tap. Modestly
have when you tell them that you actually live onfacing the wall, I lathered up, however, there was more
board your boat in a marina. The responses rangeto come.
from the shock/horror type. "Oh no, how could youOne of the misty figures was a plump, jolly old salt,
possibly do that?" or plain cold disdain, "Hmm, well Iround of belly and white of beard. He was happily
could never bear to live on a boat, I couldn't belaughing and larking around with all the others. I
squashed up like sardines in a can!" There's even ahappened to notice that he was sadly, one of natures
muttered inference that because you don't sleep fourunfortunates, having been badly placed at the end of
steps away from a gold tapped, pink tiled bathroomthe queue when nature bestowed her gifts to man.
that you must be a bit of a grub or worse, a memberThe thought actually crossed my mind he had an
of the awful species that frequent marinaunfortunate and terrible accident, but no, there were
bars…. "The grotty yachtie!" May Allah save ussigns of residence, albeit mini button mushroom size, to
from such horrors!say the least. Suddenly, through the steam strode
Admittedly, it does rather seem a fact of life that theanother figure, Adonis in the flesh. Six foot plus, brown,
further you live from the actual marina club house onhandsome and long of hair…long of something
your boat, the greater the proportion of wrinkles inelse he was too, by God and to a man, we all fell silent
your shirts and jeans, but at the end of the day, it isas he strode proudly to the shower, bearing his
not exactly a hanging offence, is it? All boaties are ahandsome (and enviable) share of natures riches.
bit like that, aren't we? I have seen some very poshBefore he could reach to turn on his tap, the bandy old
yachtie types that belong to my club that appear towhite haired salt had strode up to him, hands on hips
have barely escaped from a wind tunnel withand surveyed him wondrously up and
hairstyles to match, but then again a lot of them seemdown…finally he laughed out loud and said,
to own open top Mercedes sports cars."Jesus mate, you're bloody beautiful, aren't youze!" I
Living on board, in a marina is a bit of a double-edgedhave never heard so much laughter in a man's shower
sword I know. Like everything else in life, there areand much later that night in the bar, I noticed Adonis
pluses and minuses, in many differing ways. Theand the crusty old salt having a drink. It crossed my
minuses can, on certain days, outweigh the pluses bymind that I had shared a shower and a beer with
far, but hey, life goes on. What are the minuses? Well,probably the biggest and the smallest members of the
these can vary in horror content depending onyacht club! Happily, for my dented pride I can announce
whether you are on a swing mooring or marina berth.the showers have been rebuilt and cubicles abound!
Let's get the swing mooring type out of the way first.Another funny thing happened one day as I sat on the
In fine weather, nothing (they assure me) beats thestern of my boat. I heard a splash and turned around
quiet and solitude and sense of freedom far awayto see some large ripples pooling around the stern of a
from the rowing neighbours and barking dogs. It mustdeserted boat. I had seen the parents and the kids
be idyllic, I am sure, except for the endless row ofleaving earlier so no one on board had heard anything.
power boats that skim past your porthole every twoAs I watched, I saw a black stick surface and start to
minutes at weekends. However, (I shudder as I write,head outwards away from the boat. I believed that it
actually) when the barometer plunges and a southerlymust have been a fishing rod, the handle full of air.
buster swings in towards our little spot of heaven onJumping in to my dinghy, I determined to rescue the rod
Earth promising black rain clouds and howling gales, myand put it back on the yacht. As I got nearer, sure
heart truly goes out to them. I have often stood by theenough I saw it was a rod and so I grabbed it and
porthole, snug in the cabin, on a filthy day watchinghauled it aboard. It hadn't occurred to me that
small flooded dinghies sail past out of the gloom filledsomething had pulled it in, I just assumed that it had
with cowering forms and sopping dogs whose eyesfallen in. Suddenly the rod clattered and to my shock
are fixed intently on the nearest land borne lamppost. Ithe line tautened like a guitar string and pulled the head
feel like applauding out loud at their true grit andof the dinghy right around. Astounded, I sat there
amazing tenacity. It's a hell of a lot cheaper out therewondering what the hell it was that could be towing
and I really feel the club should award those solidmy dinghy but whatever it was, it must be huge. (It
members with bravery medals and give them freedidn't help that my partner, Nicky, who was nice and
dinners, as most of them are the truest yachtiessafe on the deck of our boat, was loudly humming the
amongst us all. I must admit I'm curious to know howtheme tune to Jaws) I nervously grabbed the rod and
some bosses react when one of their staff walks intoreeling like mad, the rod bent double and I finally saw a
work on rainy days looking as if they had been overlarge shadow rise up from the depths. Horrified, I saw it
Niagara Falls whilst being washed down with a firewas a huge ray, probably about four feet
hose. Saying, "I live on a boat" only seems to make itlong…the wings were huge and it looked really
worse somehow.peed off. Luckily for me, it gave a wrench and dived
But let's move on to the next hardy species, theback down, the line breaking off. Shaken, I quickly
'marine berth' dweller. Once again, distance from therowed back and left the hookless rod back on the
shower and toilet come into play but the further awayboat. I didn't tell the kids later when they returned but I
you are the less able you are to hear the warbles andbet they wondered what had chomped their hook and
crashes of the resident band whose repetitioussinker. As for me, I have still got visions of those huge
refrains of bloody 'Mustang Sally' for twelve weeks oneyes and that damn great spike rising up out of the
end during the summer season are almost too muchwater. I am not so sure about fishing now, after all is
to bear. Additional nuisances are the giant washes ofsaid and done and I really don't like to walk on the
Riviera owners who roar out of the marina at 15 knotspontoons after dark at all!
tipping your dinner into your lap, and when the wind isCertain forfeits have to be made on board also. Many
southerly the sound of crashing waves against theboats boast cabins so small that if you turn round
stern drowns out all speech. Unless you've actuallyquickly you will meet yourself coming in but one gets
tried to sleep in a washing machine you'll realise whyused to that, except, god forbid, if you happen to be
boaties normally walk around glassy eyed. It's not justover 5' 3" tall. You then develop a sort of crunched up
the rum I can assure you. Money too, or the distinctand peculiar crab like walk that immediately announces
lack of it, dictates your life's comforts. There's truly noyou as a nautical type. TV too, can be taxing. One
comparison to the wealthy live aboards on an eightymust be patient if, as like me, you like F1 racing for
foot Dyna towering above us mere mortals who liveexample. After sitting up until 2.30 in the morning, the
somewhat like hermit crabs in wooden shells under therace is near to an end with the leaders neck and neck.
shadows of their giant exhausts.Suddenly a gust of wind blows the head off by about
However, on a sunny Sunday we all become as one.2 degrees and your already snowy picture
Out on deck, clustering around the barby (the greatdisintegrates into a full blown arctic blizzard with sound
aussie leveler twixt rich and poor) with visitors andeffects to match. Who won? Who cares? Yes, TV
friends gurgling cheerily into their chardonnay, bangingaddicts need not apply.
on about how lucky we are to be here, etc etc. andBut overall, positives and negatives aside, I must
as the greasy scraps go over the side into the boilingconsider myself lucky to be one of the few fortunates
gangs of frenzied bream, they croon on about howwho can't afford a four hundred grand shack on a
great it must be to eat fresh fish every day, free ofblock of precious Gold Coast scrub and therefore
charge. Naturally, we daren't burst their bubble ofhave to put up with all the delights and limitations of life
fantasy by telling them exactly why they hang aroundin a long wooden cave that floats. However, the actual
under the boat awaiting the clarion call of the toiletrealisation that one day when my ship comes in (and I
pump, it just wouldn't be fair. Eat one of them littlewill probably be waiting at the station waiting for the
suckers and you'll wake up with a crowd around youtrain) and I finally become rich, I will have the enviable
with tubes out of the places you didn't know you had!ability to cast myself adrift upon the tide and let the
As for the bream, they are remarkably piranha like andgentle currents float me Northwards to the Mecca of
will eat anything when their blood is up. I have oftenall boaties, the Whitsundays, where I can drink twelve
wondered what would happen if a small child graspingdollar rum and cokes, squashed amongst the
a sausage plunged off the deck in amongst that lot ofthousands of chundering backpackers lazily brushing
snapping jawed cutthroats. I dare not think.aside the hordes of mozzies eager to share my
There have been some amusing incidents at thealcohol laced blood…heaven on earth will finally
marina and I can remember with horror the first time Ibe mine.
arrived blissfully unaware for my first shower.Till then, dear reader, take heart in the fact that up until
Humming cheerfully, I stopped dead in my tracks afterthat distant dot in time, I will have to trudge daily to the
walking in to the showers, only to see through theshowers (and back) in all weathers, queue endlessly
clouds of steam, a gang of nude men, all cheerilyfor one of the ancient cold water washing machines
foaming up. Communal showers…oh no! Being(we are privileged to use) and gratefully receive a few
a Pom I suppose I must be naturally bashful, nevercoppers discount off my beer, bravely bearing the
having been to Public school, of course. This was ascorn of members so rich they don't even own a boat,
shock. Desperately, I looked around to see if theredreaming of the day I can fling off the ropes that bind
were separate cubicles and there was…justme to the present and sail off into a pink tinged future
one. Trouble was some black hearted fiend hadcomplete with my damp bed and an eager crew of
scrawled in big letters above the door, 'Woosescockies. Life on board?….wouldn't be dead for
Corner'. I was sunk. Bugger. I had no choice. Ok fastquids, shipmates…head due North, me hearties.