On Tue, 27 Mar 2007 15:39:57 GMT, JimC wrote:



Wilbur Hubbard wrote:

"Vic Smith" wrote in message
...

Right. I'm not going to do an impulse buy.



That's excellent that you're taking your time and doing it right.
There's one moron around here by the name of JimC who claims he's a
lawyer. He ran out on an impulse and bought a Mac26M and now is totally
embarrassed about his uninformed entry-level purchase. It's like I'm
sure people look at his boat and then find out he's a lawyer and they
begin to wonder how lame is this guy. Lawyers who are worth a hoot make,
what, about 500 dollars an hour so he ought to be able to afford a real
boat and a classy boat at that. Anyhow, poor JimC spent probably a
hundred hours posting things about how he was so happy with his purchase
but you could tell he was not happy at all. Somebody who's happy with
his boat doesn't spend hundreds of hours trying to convince himself how
great it is.

What's really sick is how Wilbur, and a few others, devote all that
attention and time posting such garbage criticizing me and my boat. If
he was really interested in sailing and really enjoying his own boat,
he wouldn't be so interested in posting more sarcastic notes like that
one. (Actually, once was enough for us to get your peculiar and biases
re the Macs, Wilbur.) - Why do you go on and on on this subject? It
suggests that you have some other motive, of course. - Are you jealous
that I'm out sailing and enjoying my boat after you have posted all
those notes explaining why I shouldn't enjoy sailing it?

It's obvious that Wilbur has some personal problems and is in need of
professional help. - No normal adult would get his jollies posting such
childish, personal attacks on a fellow sailor, over and over again.

Jim

Jim,
I wasn't aware that you knew Wilbur personally and so well.

I wouldn't get upset too much. You are quite right in your comments.
Some people regard boats as they do their cars - the newer, the more
expensive, the faster and so on, the better. There is actually no best
boat at all. There are boats better suited for cruising, for racing,
for shallow waters, for entertaining etc., A true lover of boats and
those with experience of the sea does not regard them as a status
symbol to enhance the social or other status of the owner. As there is
no "best" woman or man, there is no best boat. People choose boats for
a number of reasons, often quite illogical - rather like marriage.

I recall two boats in New Zealand that would readily incur the
ridicule of such as Wilbur. One was a 18 foot open plywood home built
dory with the name "John's Dory" painted on the sides in large
letters. Holiday makers at the wharf of the resort town where my beach
home is never gave it a second glance but stared at the large and new
power boats with dreamy eyes. The interesting thing is that John,
being retired, went out recreational fishing in his home built boat
every day and always came back with a decent catch. His little boat
was out in all weathers and was probably more seaworthy than most of
the larger power boats who were kept at home by the rough seas. They
often complained also of the lack of good fishing. John would never
take much from the sea and gave most of his catch away to older people
and others about town. A couple of times, John went out to tow in
flasher boats that had broken down. He never said much and never
responded when people scoffed at his boat. He was a much better seaman
and fisherman than they, regardless of the monetary worth of their
boats.

Another boat I met several times when we lived aboard at Westhaven
Marina in Auckland, New Zealand. It was built after WWII of timbers
that the then owner had managed to scavenge. It was about 28 feet in
length and had rigging made of plow steel, spliced with a a Liverpool
splice and parceled. The inside was barren and in need of furniture
there being only two perfunctionary berths. The only things on that
boat that were less than 40 years old were the owner's sea boots. He
was a bricklayer who lived and worked on Great Barrier Island, a day's
sail northeast of Auckland. In essence, the little sailboat was his
car.

As the vessel was not fitted with any engine, he had become a
proficient sailor and would sail to the marina mouth, turn port 90
degrees into the channel, starboard 90 degrees, then port 90 again
and finally another port 90 to gently brush against the pontoon of
thefinger berth. All of this under sail by himself. I doubt that I
would ever be able to perform this manouvre, if I ever had to. As we
usually anchor out, I have to suppress feelings of panic upon entering
marinas.

What was most interesting to see was that everyone's eyes were turned
to watch this little rough boat coming in. Nobody said anything but
watched in silent appreciation of the skill displayed. People vied to
take his docklines, people whose boats were worth half a million
dollars. He never said much either, even though many of the onlookers
tried to engage him in conversation. We were fortunate that his berth
was along from ours and we would often have him to dinner with before
he set off back to the island.

In writing of these two boats, several other boats and their owners
have come to mind. One left a lasting impression upon my family. We
were anchored by ourselves overnight near the Ranger Station on Rinja
Island in Indonesia, one of the two islands that are home to the giant
Komodo Dragons. Early that morning, my wife went on deck in response
to a gentle knock on the hull and was presented with a 15 inch long,
freshly caught fish by a small old man in an outrigger canoe about 12
to 14 feet in length. At one end of the canoe was a small broken pot
on some stones where he cooked his meals. Drying in the sun were a few
three and four inch long trepang or sea slugs that he had dived for
and that he would later sell to the traders for a few cents - the
basis of his living. He had home made diving goggles carved from wood
with plastic inserts and a piece of string to hold them on his head.
His only protection from the elements was one of those ubiquitous blue
plastic tarpaulins folded neatly in the bow along with a cheap woven
plastic prayer mat.

My wife told him to wait for her to get some money but he smiled,
waved and slowly paddled off. We spoke to the rangers of him later
that morning and found that what we saw about him was all that he
owned in the world. Cooking and eating that fish for dinner was
somewhat of a religious experience. That simple man, who had made a
present to those who had far more than he, taught us a valuable lesson
and made a great impact on the lives of the three of us. My son, who
was 9 at the time, still remembers him.

We couldn't give him money - it would have been an insult; so we later
sought him out and gave him some clothes, a diving mask and some
flippers as well as a few other items of little real value to us.

If there is one thing I have learned, it is that one should never
ridicule other people's choice of boat any more than one should
ridicule their occupation, station in life or choice of spouse.

Cheers
Peter Hendra
(I do go on - don't I? Blame it on the Greek blood).