On the Beach

This February, after over 15 years living aboard, we moved ashore, or to use the folk language, on the 'beach', on the 'hard'. Hard to believe.

It was the Fall of 1992 when June and I, with our youngest daughter, our Siberian husky and our kitty moved aboard our new-to-us 1957 Richardson motor yacht after renting out our house in Seattle's Queen Anne neighborhood. The M.Y. Lady Mick has been a great vessel (46-foot if paying moorage, 49-foot if bragging). Moored on Lake Union in the heart of Seattle with a killer view looking to the south end of the lake to the Space Needle, we loved the life. There is nothing more relaxing than walking down the dock at the end of the day, shedding all the load of the day, only to relax gazing in a zen-like state out over the water with a glass of wine. 

Opening Day, cruises to Olympia and the San Juans and to the Canadian Gulf Islands, excursions to Gig Harbor, Poulsbo, Kingston, Blake Island all were part of our lexicon. "Nautical voyeuring" around Lake Union at Christmas-time enjoying the houseboat decorations, all part of our life style.

But, a confluence of positive events (stars and constellations?) saw us moving into our condo in Kingston on the Kitsap Peninsula. And we love it. We have a view of Apple Tree Cove and the Sound. We see container ships and grain ships and cruise liners and tugs with tows and fish-boats. Not quite the same as actually being on the water, but very close. To be honest, I have to say that chasing bad wood for 15 years was also taking its toll. Maintaining and caring for a classic wood boat, especially when kept outside, is truly unrequited love. But then, living aboard under cover would be like camping in your carport. 

When we off-loaded the Lady Mick (amazing how much stuff you squirrel abroad over 15-years) the water line came up 4-1/2 inches, what an engineer friend calculated represented over two tons!