
The frustrations of the last few months seem to fade as the day you finally move aboard comes closer. The boat that was the centre of all that searching now lies at the marina just waiting for you to take up residence - so what's the delay? That's easy to answer: it's due to the process of metamorphosis that must be undergone before you finally emerge as a true liveaboard person.
Anyone who has been through the business of backing out of a land-based lifestyle to go and reside on a boat will know exactly what I'm talking about. The amount of stuff that the average human being accumulates is unbelievable and the wrench of getting rid of it is almost as bad as a limb amputation - even though most of the junk is exactly that: junk.
The thing that sticks in my mind is the amount of Tupperware that I had, and I've never been to a Tupperware party in my life! The incredible mountain of plastic containers that piled up in the middle of the kitchen floor was astounding, and I can only conclude that the stuff somehow breeds in dark cupboards.
Clothes are nearly as bad: racks of rags that wouldn't be back in fashion if I lived to be a hundred, and wouldn't fit me anyway; enough shoes to make Imelda Marcos green with envy, and ties by the gross.
Everything passes, and the time will arrive when all your possessions have been downsized to the point where they might just fit onto that boat. Sad about the 80cm plasma screen TV, the two door refrigerator freezer with icemaker and the all-in-one washer/dryer combo. You wouldn't be human if you didn't wonder if this decision was the right one; comfort yourself with the thought that the gain will be more than worth the pain.
The next few months are going to be a pretty big period of readjustment as all the inconveniences with the boat are ironed out. Everybody's problems are going to be different because they will largely depend on how well the ship was set up for living aboard in the first place; also, problems may arise that have nothing to do with the actual vessel, but more to do with the place the boat is moored.
Over the next few articles we'll explore the best ways to overcome these little difficulties, based largely on the experiences of people who are at present residing on their boat. For the purpose of this exercise we'll imagine that the vessel is to be kept on a marina and that you still have to work for a living.
NOISY NEIGHBOURS
Possibly the first thing that will be apparent is that you will have neighbours, although hopefully not moored right alongside. Most marinas that permit living aboard try to scatter the residents throughout the berths, as nothing is more annoying than living on top of one another with little privacy.
The rules for getting along with people who live on boats are pretty much the same as for getting along with neighbours in suburbia. If you play music, remember that not everyone will enjoy it blasting across the marina at two in the morning. Respect people's privacy and don't stare into their boat.
I personally will never board another person's ship unless I'm invited, no matter how well I know them, and I take exception to people who just step onto my deck regardless.
As a personal observation, I find that people who do live on their boats are much more considerate of others than people who just visit their boats for the day, or perhaps stay overnight; in most cases, irritating behaviour is just thoughtlessness.
If you do find yourself stuck with a pest nearby, at least it is easy to move - unlike living in houses.
Another bone of contention is the use of power tools. Not everyone wants to be awakened to the hum of a power planer at six in the morning, or listen to you grind your decks by torchlight in the evenings. A lot of marinas will no longer allow this sort of thing anyway, so if you want your stay to be long and pleasant it pays to look up the local rules and to stick to them.
One of the early difficulties that may crop up is the mail. Every marina has a different approach to this and often there is no problem. My advice is if you are going to be in the area for a reasonable length of time, it pays to rent a post box, as this allows you to get at your mail when you want to and reduces the chance of it going missing.
Parking can be a real pain at some marinas and if you find a solution to this, short of getting rid of the car, then I would be fascinated to hear about it. Atlhough much worse in the big cities than in provincial towns, the associated problems of theft, vandalism or whatever are seldom absent. Good luck!
As a final word regarding your stay at the marina, keep the place nice and tidy. If the guy alongside you has to clamber over pushbikes and dinghies just to get to his boat, or if he has just traipsed oil over his pristine teak decks because you have serviced your outboard on the pontoon, he is likely to get a touch annoyed and I'm afraid I'd be on his side.
Berths that look like a snapshot of the suburban tip tend to make marina managers think that having people living onboard their boats is too much of a nuisance, after which they may decide that we'll all have to leave.
STORAGE SPACE
Back onboard, some of the difficulties of a long term stay are probably beginning to make themselves apparent. The first is generally storage space. I can quite confidently state that there will never be enough, even if the boat you purchased is a 100-footer.
Most of us will have left a big apartment or house where a lot of things were just taken for granted - particularly storage space - and it soon becomes apparent that the average boat certainly lacks in this department. Now is the time to get organised.
Start at the bow and do a survey of just what can be stored there, keeping in mind that convenience is paramount. Most craft have a fairly large area under the bunks, but generally it is an absolute pain to access.
On my boat the mattress must be completely removed from the bed to reveal the jigsaw puzzle which is the plywood base, and of course the mattress is now occupying the major part of the cabin space. I throw a headlock on the thing and force it into a U shape, thrust it to the floor and kneel on it (those nights spent watching World Championship Wrestling were not wasted after all).
Various bits of plywood are removed to reveal a cavernous space for storage, but the big question is what? This exercise is such a hassle that I want to do it as few times as possible, so the obvious things to store here are all the out of season linen and clothes.
I use strong black garbage bags, place the clothes and linen inside, along with a few mothballs, and then suck all the air out with the vacuum cleaner. This compacts the bags nicely, and I tie off the necks and stow them under the bunk.
If you are going to do the same thing, make sure the area is sealed off from the bilge - in a heavy seaway the bilge water can surge up towards the bow. When things like that happen, it's difficult to imagine just what the boatbuilder was thinking. I suppose the bilge should be always dry, but I have never owned a boat where this has been the case.
Back to the storage problem. Before reassembling the bunk boards (and what a job that is on my boat!), have a think about just what else could be placed here. Keep in mind that the ends of any boat should not be overloaded with weight, but there are a many items that can be kept in this relatively inaccessible area. My coastal charts are kept here along with a few spare lifejackets, heavy weather oilskins and rubber boots. The big factor is just how easy it is to get to.
When everything has been reassembled and the bed made, we can continue to look for further improvements.
SLUMBER LAND
When I first bought my present boat, it had the typical vee berth arrangement up forward which was OK, I guess, but I felt that it could be improved. I removed one side of the berth completely back to the hull and extended the other side out by about 200mm. This gave me a bunk roughly the same size as a large single bed, but with an odd shape.
I solved the problem of a mattress by buying the cheapest single foam one available, hacked it into shape with a bread knife and spent the worst two years of my sleeping life on the damn thing. The foam compressed to almost flat within a week, resulting in a sleeping surface that might have delighted a Trappist monk but did nothing for me.
Even worse was the bed linen; nothing fitted and the bunk would look like a battlefield every morning with the sheets all pulled out. Remaking the bed was an absolute torment that only those with a similar problem could relate to.
Finally, in an agony of back pain, I decided to renew the mattress, but this time take a little advice and spend a lot more money. Now money may not buy happiness, but it sure can buy a good mattress. Mine was made to the exact shape of the berth, using templates that I made from newspaper. Two different densities of foam were laminated together to provide both support and softness, then the whole thing was covered with quilting just like a store-bought one.
Additionally, I provided two sets of new bed linen and these were cut to the correct shape of the bed and re-hemmed. The bottom sheet was fitted with elastic and gone were the nights of finding the bottom sheet around my neck.
This was one exercise where all the money was well spent because I have never slept better in my life. The whole exercise cost around $500, which may seem high for what is basically a single mattress, but I have never regretted it.
MOULD-FREE LOCKERS
Back to the renovations. On the side where the berth had been removed I built a two door locker, about waist high, with a flat surface top. I lined the locker with a material called 'Foss'. Available from most upholstery shops, it is used often in the boating and caravan industries, and is quite marvellous for this application.
The interior of the locker is cleaned thoroughly and the material cut approximately to the shapes required. Using a spray can of contact adhesive, I applied glue to the interior surfaces and on to the fabric and when both were touch-dry, I lined the locker.
This job sounds a lot harder than it is, and it is surprisingly easy to finish with a neat appearance covering the complete interior of the locker. The effect is not only pleasing to the eye and professional looking, but has the added, important advantage of making the storage space completely condensation proof.
Condensation in storage areas can be a real nuisance on boats, particularly on cold nights when cooking onboard. Condensation occurs when the moisture laden air (and cooking contributes greatly to the amount of moisture) comes in contact with any cold surface. The air is chilled below the dew point and the water vapour condenses back to a liquid in the form of droplets on the cold surface. This generally means that everything in the locker, if that is where the cold surface exists (which is generally the case) becomes damp, and before long mould appears.
This alone can completely ruin clothes and, even worse, lead to the appearance of dry rot if the locker is made of plywood. It can also lead to swelling if craftwood or particle board is the construction material. Don't be surprised to find that a lot of boatbuilders use this material in their boats; it's fine if everything is kept dry, and to achieve this you must be vigilant against condensation.
If you find you are having this problem in your storage areas, particularly clothes lockers, then Foss is the answer for you. Use a torch and inspect the locker's interior for evidence of mould, which is generally found on the upper surfaces.
Mould and fungi have a great affinity for leather; I discovered this when I noticed that my leather boat shoes were almost sprouting mushrooms, as was my leather jacket. The treatment is to use a little vinegar on a rag and wipe the surface clean, which seems to discourage the fungus and is a marvellous inhibitor of mould. You can buy vinegar (labelled 'cleaning vinegar') in five litre plastic bottles from the supermarket.
SWEET CHARITY
A hanging locker is a thing to die for if you haven't got one. No matter how small, it's amazing just how much can be stuffed in on hangers. But the reality is that it is no longer possible to have all the clothes that one usually accumulates when living in a house, and for some this requires an almost painful wrench when perfectly good old clothes are sent to the Sallies to make way for the new.
Console yourself with the fact that the charity will benefit.
Next month we'll have a look at a few more storage tips and focus on the shower and toilet area. If you think that the cabin had some headaches, wait until we get to these areas! Until then, cheers.