BOAT NAMES POINT TO RECOVERY

By Barb Hansen
June 2011


You can tell a lot about a person by the name on their boat. For example, a couple of years ago I strongly advised a certain literary celebrity, Juliet Capulet, to never date a guy with a boat named Sir Osis of the River, Beeracuda, or Blew Too Much.

Now I'm looking at the popular boat name lists from BoatU.S. and it occurs to me the names don't just tell us about the psychological condition of the boat owners; they speak to us about the psychological condition of the nation's economy.

Indeed, they are a proxy for the mood of the country and point to a change in direction for the economy and perhaps the stock market, too. Up or down. I call it call it the Boat Name Mood Meter (BNMM)

So what is the BNMM telling us? I think it's telling us that the economy is recovering.

The first thing I do is delete the names on the top 10 list that are on the list every year. Those recurring names don't tell us anything. So, goodbye Seas the Day, AquaHolic, The Black Pearl, La Belle Vita.

Last year's list reverberated with a bad attitude. That top ten list had boat names like Lazy Daze, Bail Out, On the Rocks.

Now, compare them with the names on the new list: Andiamo (Let's go), Mojo, Island Time, Second Wind, No Worries, Serenity, Blue Moon.

Don't you see what's happening? Boat owners are tossing out the negative and accentuating the positive. They are feeling better. Much better. You should, too.

So is it time to buy stocks or bonds or what?

Well, I don't know about that, but I do know that it's time to invest in time on the water. Being on the water is the great escape. It's the rhythmic flap of wind on a sail, the harmonic charm of a well-tuned cruising engine, the excitement on a boat when a big fish is landed, the soothing feeling you get watching a colorful sunrise or a sunset.

Time on the boat doesn't make problems go away but it does gives us the mental fortitude and the right attitude to deal with matters back on land.

You may have read that Tiger Woods is selling his 155-footer, Privacy, and replacing it with a smaller vessel. He calls it Solitude. The Tiger Woods case may not be the best example but it helps to illustrate that even when times are tough boaters don't give up on boating entirely.

Some sail. Some cruise. Some fish. Some paddle into remote backcountry areas where few have gone before. Some seek solitude. Some socialize. Some go fast from here to there. Some go slow to nowhere. Heck, some never leave the dock. But on the water, they feel good.

So is it time? Oh, yeah. Memorial day signals the start of a new summer. Fishing and Boating Week is June 4-12. Father's Day is June 19.

The stars are aligned. It's time to be on the water. You can check the Dow when you get back in. Meanwhile, it's nice to know that the Boat Name Mood Meter is trending sharply up. You know what to do.

FAREWELL TO A STAR

By Barb Hansen
May 2011


It was Valentine’s Day, 1995 and I was awakened by my husband at 0630 telling me the morning TV news had just featured the cutest puppy available for adoption. "You have to go get her,” he said. That’s not exactly how I had hoped to be awakened on such a romantic holiday, but that’s another story.

I quickly got the doggie details. The “weather pet” that morning was a cute little black and white canine from the local animal shelter in need of a home. While we had talked about getting a dog for a few years, I hadn’t planned on adding a puppy to our family that day and neither had our two cats. However, being the animal lover that I am it only took a few minutes to be convinced that there was no better time than the present to expand our family.

I was waiting at the door when the Humane Society opened their doors that day and soon I had our new little fuzz ball in my canvas bag on the way to her new home. Vic and I quickly shopped for all the goodies our gal would need over the next few days. I confess now that the only “baby” collar in stock that day was blue. I know, I know. I probably scarred her for life, but I had no choice.

Now for the biggest dilemma of all – what to name our girl? I can see why it takes some parents nine months to decide on a name for Junior. See, it just has to fit. We perused all of our nautical publications trying to find the perfect name for a boat dog. Dinghy? Sloopy? Nothing seemed to work. Then it occurred to us that since this puppy was on TV, she was really a Star! At two months old she also had the outline of a star in the fur on her chest. Her name was Star

We soon found out that Star was not a terrier mix as the shelter had labeled her. Instead she was a smart and beautiful border collie. We took her to training classes, set up an agility course at home and read all about this popular herding breed. It wasn’t long before we noticed that border collies were showing up in more and more TV commercials and our local airport paid more than $5,000 to train one to chase birds off the runway. Hmm...mm. Hey, after all we did have a “Star” in the family. . . .

In the end, though, we found that Star was better at herding for fun than she was at working. Oh sure, she herded the cats from room to room. She herded our young nieces when they just wanted to play. Most of all, she enjoyed herding the dolphins that rode our bow and stern waves every time we went cruising. The dolphins seemed to enjoy it, too. The more she ran around the deck barking at them, the more they performed their aquatic acrobatics for everyone on board.

Star experienced more in her lifetime than most people. She flew in private planes and cruised the entire Intracoastal Waterway from New York to Florida. During one boat delivery, we stopped in Hilton Head. Because the trawler we were on was so tall, it was quite a leap from the deck to the dock. Star managed it with ease. She jumped off the boat and back on the boat many times. Soon a small crowd gathered around to watch her, clapping each time she made a successful landing. Star loved the limelight.

Star had another role. She was our office greeter for most of her life. It wasn’t quite Wal-Mart, but she enjoyed her “job.” Her favorite parts of the day were lunch time, walk time, and making new friends. For many years we (unofficially) qualified our charter customers by whether or not Star smiled at them. Yes, this dog smiled. If a client came to the office and Star backed away we wondered about their boating skills and took a little extra time to check them out.

In my opinion, everyone should have a dog or a cat or several of them. Everyone with kids should definitely have a pet. They teach kids about responsibility and unconditional love. Forget the video games. Make a video of your kids playing outside with Rover. Retired people should have a pet. They are good company and great listeners. The benefits of walking are touted all over the news these days. So, adopting a dog can actually make you both healthier.

Star was one of a kind. Running on the beach, fishing, and barking at the water birds were just a few of the things she loved to do. She simply loved to be busy. At age fourteen, arthritis started to limit her mobility. Her jumping and herding days were replaced by more naps on the porch. At age fifteen we had to carry her on and off the boat. However, she still loved to go wherever we were going and do whatever we were doing. She could no longer herd her cat sisters, but she still liked to think she was in charge.

Star passed away in February at the age of sixteen. Our world is not the same. We miss our girl. But looking up at the night sky I see a new light twinkling. Our Star is shining down on us and smiling.

NEW AIR TRAVEL ADVISORY

By Barb Hansen
April 2011


The Transportation Security Administration (TSA) claims it can keep secrets, but I suspect it's just a matter of time before we start seeing full frontal scans of celebrities in the supermarket tabloids. Some probably won't mind. Well, hello again Paris.

I hope they publish only celebrity images. As you know, our privacy has never been a U.S. government priority. (Can you say WikiLeaks?) We all know that eventually a disgruntled TSA employee will sell his private collection of scans to the highest bidder.

TSA uses two kinds of full body scans -- neither produces flattering results -- and now I read they are considering a third type. The new type doesn't show your whole body from top to bottom, just the anomalies. Uh oh.

Anomalies. I hope they mean just harmful devices like bombs and box cutters. But just in case I'm adding this new TSA scan type to our growing list of air travel advisories, a periodic public service of your friendly charter boat outfitters at Southwest Florida Yachts (Motto: We Don't Scan.)

Air travel advisory number two is air traffic controllers who nod off on the job as one did recently working the night shift at Ronald Reagan National Airport, Washington, DC. Two airliners landed without permission from the tower. I doubt if the pilot even bothered to tell the passengers. I expect at least two pilots and one air traffic controller are looking for new work this week.

These air traffic advisories are our little way of pointing out the differences between planes and boats. If you subtract the time it takes you to get checked in and navigate security, air travel will get you from point A to point B faster than a boat but at what cost? Your dignity, that's what.

Now, contrast all that with another mode of transportation, the boat. Admittedly, a boat can't get you across the country as quickly as an airliner, but it will get you from our marina to a special relaxed place in your mind in record time.

Our charter customers like to cruise on the placid side of the Gulf of Mexico barrier islands like Sanibel/Captiva. There is no turbulence on this dignified flight path. There are no body scans, no insults to your dignity and no air traffic controllers who nod off.

There are no lines to get on board, no bags to check and no packing and unpacking once underway. There’s no waiting for a seatbelt light to go off so you can go to the bathroom. There is no middle seat. You won't go to war for an armrest. A kid won't kick the back of your seat. Your kneecap won't get shattered by the beverage cart.

As air travel becomes more onerous, remember that cruising with family-and-friends is one of the best ways to restore your dignity and zest for life.

THE NEW FAMILY VACATION

By Barb Hansen
March 2011


I just read about a girl, 17, who drank tequila all afternoon then drove off in her expensive sports car. She dialed a friend on her cell phone and, thus distracted, hit another girl who was rollerblading. Later, in court, her parents asked the judge if it would be okay if their daughter spent the summer in Paris, as she usually did.

Cue in the parental lecture: One, Quit coddling. Two, Go boating.

In my experience kids who go boating with the family end up as responsible adults. I'm a school-of-hard-knocks proprietor of a boating school and boat chartering operation and for the past 30 years I've been helping families learn about boats and how to have fun on a cruise.

Now hold on. I'm not talking about a cruise on one of those 5,000-cabin, infection-factory ships. I'm talking about calm-water boating on a cabin cruiser that you charter. Just you and your family. If you're not ready to take over the helm, no worries, mon, because the captain will take care of that, even teach you and yours a few things, and then make himself scarce when it's family time.

For safety’s sake there are some serious do's and don’ts on a cruising yacht and the captain insists they be followed. You might say the atmosphere is lighthearted, but disciplined. When you think about it, you could say the rules for a successful cruise are probably the same as the rules for the successful life.

Kids who grow up boating learn that successful boating requires a degree of self-sufficiency and personal responsibility and from my observation post I'd say that most become responsible, successful adults. If the teenager mentioned above had spent her summers on a boating vacation with the whole family instead of in Paris on her own perhaps those experiences might have fostered responsible rather than destructive behavior.

Boating parents are secure in this knowledge. If you're landlubber parents, let me suggest a family vacation that guarantees quality family time. It’s an expedition, an adventure, summer camp, summer school and even manners school all rolled into one.

Instead of crossing an expanse of ocean to dock at foreign shopping districts, imagine your family cruising the sheltered Gulf Intracoastal Waterway past Southwest Florida’s gulf barrier islands and wild mangrove sanctuaries where herons, egrets, pelicans and ospreys roost.

Leave the Ipods and Ipads at home. Bring cell phones, if you must, but turn them off. This is not your vacation. This is the family vacation. WARNING. If your vessel has a TV set, fine, but don't expect a great signal. Many chartering families ask that we remove the TV set from the boat.

This is an expedition into the wild, although civilization is usually less than a few hundred yards away from your boat at any point in time. You’ll see dolphins surf your wake, watch the magnificent frigatebird soaring overhead, and catch a glimpse of a giant ray in the clear water below. He'll be half-buried in the sand, thinking you don’t see him.

Drop the dinghy in the water one morning and paddle to a Gulf beach laced with fine, pink-white sand. Let the little children cover you up with it. Walk the beach and collect some of the prettiest seashells you'll ever want to see. This is, after all, the shelling capital of the world.

After dark call a "family meeting' on the fly-bridge to look at stars. On a clear night, without the glare of city lights, you can see 5,000 stars. Now, look at one star, and imagine that you could be looking not at a star but the light of a star that no longer exists at the light of a star that no longer exists. You’re seeing light that took a million years to reach you. Did somebody just say "Tempus fugit?"

This is the new family vacation. It's the same as the old family vacation. Give credit where credit is due.

STATE OF THE UNION: STRESSED

By Barb Hansen
February 2011


Fellow Americans. Tonight, the State of the Union is, in a word, stressed.

Too many don't have jobs. Car fuel and groceries cost more. And you will die soon because of man-made global warming.

What happened to the American Dream?

What happened was everybody went online 24/7 and forgot what it was like to sit down together with the family at dinner. Instead they grabbed a take-out pizza and on the way home they texted friends just to say they were on the way home and that they were eating pizza. That's the new normal for dinner, you know.

What happened? Twitter happened. Texting happened. Instead of spending quality time with their family Americans tweeted 100 acquaintances in 140 characters or less.

Tonight, countrymen, I propose that we invest in a national program to rescue the American Dream.

I call it, Race to the Boat.

Tonight we are privileged to have with us in this chamber men and women who represent millions of boaters from all 50 states. Some sail. Some cruise. Some fish. Young ones ride a big inflatable behind a boat driven by their dad. Some paddle kayaks into remote backcountry areas where few have gone before. Some venture out and sail vast stretches of the wild blue yonder. Just for the fun of it.

Please stand, all, and accept the admiration of the American people who recognize, as do your elected representatives, that you live by the creed that made America great. You depend on yourselves. When you need support you look to your family, your neighbors, your close friends. Not the government.

We now understand that boaters and their lifestyle – work hard, then relax – show us the way to reclaim the American Dream.

Tonight I am proposing that all Americans follow your example and go boating at least seven days every year. Because, as you have said, when you're on the water everything feels right.

Every state in this union has lakes, rivers and bays or boating. I recommend a one-week cruise in the beautiful barrier island paradise of Southwest Florida where the subtropical weather is comfortable all year long.

If you don't have a boat of your own remember you can rent or charter. Here's my recommended itinerary for seven days in paradise.

On day one cruise to beautiful Sanibel Island, shelling capital of the world.

Day two. Put in at Cabbage Key where you can order the famous Cheeseburger in Paradise and tack a dollar bill on the wall with your name on it. Hey, it goes to charity.

Day three. Watch dolphins surf your bow wave. Watch roseate spoonbills, herons, storks, hawks, kingfishers and ospreys.

Day four. Anchor up behind Cayo Costa Island and take a swim in the Gulf of Mexico. Return to the boat. Take a nap. Catch a fish and grill it fresh for supper.

Day five. History buffs will want to see where some of America's infamous pirates held sway 200 years ago. Gasparilla Island was named for Jose Gaspar. His band of buccaneers stationed themselves so they could quickly approach ships and relieve them of their valuables.

Day six. Useppa Island is a must-see. Accessible only by boat, it takes its name from Jose Gaspar's significant other, Joseffa. This island recently opened The Collier Inn, an elegant b-n-b with 11 suites.

Day six. Cruise again. Stand on the bow and let the subtropical breezes blow remnants of stress away. See if you can spot the manatees.

Day seven. Welcome back home. Landlubber again, give yourself permission to return calls to your friends, check your Facebook postings and Tweet away. They'll want to know what happened to you. Tell them you've been recapturing the American Dream.

BOATING SCHOOL IS REAL FUN

By Barb Hansen
January 2011


At least 76 died in Florida boating accidents in 2010. The count does not include two men who slammed their airboat into a tree on dry land.

This was Florida’s Fish and Wildlife’s Dec. 15 total. We can assume that just before midnight on New Year's Eve a few more fell off wobbly boats and drowned even as they held firmly to a cup of good cheer. It will be determined that about 85 percent of these "victims" were not wearing life jackets.

I think Florida's stats, times ten, are a reasonable proxy for U.S. totals. The United States Coast Guard reported 736 boating deaths in 2009.

Boating fatality reports are usually accompanied by a recommendation -- I vigorously concur -- that boaters take a boating safety course.

I would add only that fools and/or drunks need not apply. I just read about one bass boater racing to be first to his honey hole. Speeding 75 mph in a narrow creek he failed to navigate a sharp bend and accompanied the boat on a high-speed cross-country expedition.

Boating how-to instruction is also about boating safety. At Florida Sailing & Cruising School almost everything taught during our three-day liveaboard course, Basic Powerboat Handling (P-101), concerns boating safety. It includes instruction about how everything on the boat works and what to do if it doesn't.

Lessons: Bring spares. Become a do-it-yourselfer. Know how to get rescued and how to keep everybody alive while you wait.

You can also go to "school" by reviewing previous boating accidents to determine what should have been done differently.

The case of the Gouge family rescue – four men and three male children – is one such accident. In September, while fishing 21 miles offshore of Charleston, S.C., their 38-foot boat started taking on water in the engine compartment.

Could the leak have been prevented? Could it have been fixed or minimized after it started? What about a manual bilge pump or a bucket brigade?

The flooding got worse. They called for help on a marine radio but the signal heard by the Coast Guard was garbled. The boat was 21.5 miles from shore but the Coast Guard thought it was 1.5 miles from shore. Were there no backup radios? Could the call for help have gone out sooner?

As the water poured in one person onboard collected cell phones and flares and stowed them in a forward compartment. But later a wave rushed aboard and swept all of it into the water. Where would you have put them?

The Coast Guard restarted the search at 10 p.m. after one of the wives phoned from home. Sharp crew eyes aboard one of the CG copters noticed a break in the moon’s reflection on the water. Bingo. They were able to save all seven. They were wearing life preservers. But why were they not in a lifeboat?

Some people say stop it already with this fear stuff. They say that nobody will ever buy or charter a boat if all they hear about is what can go wrong.

I say confront these issues before pushing off. You'll have a lot more fun knowing you are prepared.

ON THE BOAT

By Barb Hansen
December 2010


Airport body scans and pat downs have spiked the debate about how far we should let government intrude on our personal and private spaces.

Are these procedures really necessary? I don't know. If they stop a terrorist then I suppose we can say that the procedures did what they were supposed to do.

But we don't have to like them. In fact, the airport hullabaloo and other worrisome developments in the world have given me that "Stop the world I want to get off" feeling. And when I get that feeling, I know just what to do. Get on the boat.

Plop, plop. Oh what a relief it is.

Chartering boats is my business but after all these years (26 going on more) of being in the biz it still feels great to be on a boat, even when I'm not going anywhere. Fortunately, Vic and I share a passion for cruising. So, start the engine. Untie the lines. Goodbye world, for now.

In an imperfect world with an increasing lack of personal freedoms, water draws an exemption. Water is the wild blue yonder, the great escape, the last frontier.

Of course, boating has rules and regulations, too. But it doesn't feel that way. This is a world where you rarely see a law enforcement officer yet everybody pretty much obeys the laws anyway. On the water the feeling is that we are in charge, not Janet Napolitano.

At the airport if the attendant says "Have a nice flight" it sounds too automatic. When our friends in the next slip say "Have a nice cruise" we know they mean it. We don't have to file a float plan with the government but generally we do leave one with marina friends … just in case.

I know, I know. We can't completely escape this crazy world on a boat but boaters know that it comes pretty close. Just sitting on the boat rocking gently in its slip or at anchor is like being in a different world. Scenery is different. Sounds are different. The marine radio doesn't broadcast the news of the day.

I also get a thrill helping charterers plan their boating vacations on the water and another thrill hearing their excited stories when they return.

The new airport screening procedures are sure to generate transportation winners and losers. Airlines will be losers, I suspect. Auto travel will be a winner.

In my world boating is always a winner. You don't have to buy a boat to be a boater, you know. Increasingly families are passing up boat ownership in favor of boat chartering.

Chartering yachts is what we do. Airline travelers who have had it with security procedures will be glad to know we don't have any metal detectors or full body scanners and nobody will pat you down. We don't charge extra for luggage, either.

Welcome aboard.

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

By Barb Hansen
November 2010


The other day I watched some warblers twit about the shrubbery and I was reminded of an enduring scientific certainty: We are animals. I mean that in a nice way, of course.

It’s easy to forget this while sipping merlot and emailing friends, but it’s true. Ask anybody. We belong to the kingdom of animalia, the order of primates, the genus of homo, the species of sapiens, the advanced species of wine lovers and the super-duper family of sailors. (The last two are just theories at this point. Mine, actually.)

I also believe that like warblers we humans are hard-wired to do certain things like, for example, migrate to Florida during the winter months. However, because we have advanced brains and central heat, many in the kingdom of animalia ignore those signals. And that is such a shame, because those who live in cold climates could be having so much fun outside in the sunshine and stay warm, too. Not listening to those health signals, I suspect, is one of the primary causes of the growing pandemic that the researchers call Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

Warblers are hard-wired to fly to Southwest Florida in September and depart for Central America in November. We’ll miss them, of course, but it’s okay because they are listening to their inner selves and doing what they are supposed to do. Anyway, more snowbirds are on the way. Flocks of white pelicans from Canada will soon be floating in sheltered coves, diving on thick schools of minnows and taking graceful winged exercise together. Belted kingfishers will whistle and zoom through mangrove passages. Here and there a loon from the land of frozen lakes (Midwest and Canada) will pop to the surface with a fish wiggling in its beak. Our resident bald eagles and hawks always invite their cousins to visit from up north and they all come.

None of these snowbirds to the best of modern scientific knowledge suffers from SAD. Nor is there a documented case of SAD among our permanent populations of herons, ibises, egrets, willets and bitterns. All of these happy creatures are on display in the winter months to watchful sailors. Vic and I especially like to cruise the skinny backbay waters of Pine Island Sound because we can observe so many birds doing what their instincts tell them to do.

As scientific observers of the barrier islands of biodiversity at certain times of the year we hypothesize that we are also obeying silent neural instructions up to and including the part when we put the cork back into the tall, brown bottle with the dark red fluid. When summer returns to Florida each year Vic and I, still obeying said neural system signals, break open the chardonnay and migrate to cooler climes to visit relatives in New York City, Vermont, Indiana and other points north.

As a young history student in Indiana I remember learning about and feeling so sorry for the native Americans of the upper Midwest who had to try to stay warm through those brutal winters wearing only those meager garments. But I later learned they didn’t stay there in the winter. They went south, following the sun, eating fresh fish and going where the weather suited their clothes. They were the original Florida snowbirds of the homo sapiens persuasion.

Vic and I and the visitor’s bureau warmly invite you and yours to do what warblers, ruby throated hummingbirds and all birds of a certain feather do enthusiastically when the temperature drops -- vacation in Florida.

People, listen to your inner selves. The heating bills that arrive at your home this fall and winter will remind you of that.

FLORIDA'S FOUR SEASONS

By Barb Hansen
October 2010


The full moon in late September this year was as big and as beautiful as it can be and it was accompanied by the most delicious breeze from the north, a harbinger of well-deserved, cooler weather for those of us who live in Southwest Florida.

Now for at least nine months more the climate will be exceptionally good, proving again the area deserves its "paradise" title.

This is the time of the year when I have to remind myself not to phone friends up north and brag about our weather, especially not when they're getting cold fronts and, with autumn's shorter days, must turn on their car lights at 4:30 p.m.

People say Florida doesn't have seasons. That's incorrect.

The temperature differential may not be as dramatic in Fort Myers as it is in Fort Wayne, but signs of seasonal change are just as unmistakable if you are tuned in to the sights and sounds of the subtropics.

Winter is wonderful, of course. I think of it as the season of roseate spoonbills, herons, egrets and wood storks feeding on mud flat at low tide. Natives get chilly sometimes but those who know how cold it gets in other climes are comfortable and so grateful they are not shoveling snow. Personally, I like a wind chill of 75 degrees and break out the winter jacket when the temperature drops into the 60’s.

By late March, the cold fronts seem to lose their punch and the flora and fauna of spring emerge. April and May are a special time of the year when tired, tiny tanagers and warblers hitch rides and a rest on your boat railing before flitting off in search of a berry tree on Sanibel Island. Our eyes and noses delight in the flowering trees -- fragrant yellow frangipani, fire-red poinciana, lavender-blue jacaranda.

Summer arrives with the first thunderstorm and the “full moon in June” as the saying goes. Shy cereus cactus flowers make their one-night-only appearances in June. Summer mornings are clear and clouds build throughout the day. On the water, the tarpon are rolling and a fishing frenzy ensues in the waters of Southwest Florida.

Summer is relaxing on the flybridge, in the shade of a Bimini, with a cool drink in hand, watching a pod of dolphins circle in on their fresh fish entrée. This is the "low" season. Okay. Whatever.

I love it here in Southwest Florida, as you can tell. Still, I’ve come to the point of view that no one place is perfect unless you make it so. I like to read and when I’m wrapped up in a great novel I don't care where I am so long as the chair is comfortable. In fact, if it were snowing outside and I was close to a crackling fire, that would be just dandy.

But dyed in the wool boaters logically migrate toward Florida (and they will leave their woolens behind). Snow skiers probably want to be close to the Rockies, High Sierras, or the Cascades. Surfers prefer the Pacific. We have traveled to all of those places and beyond, but as Dorothy said, “There’s no place like home.”

So maybe no one place is perfect but, like those snowbirds on the yacht pulpit, we can fly to some other place and suit our changing weather whims.

As a Floridian who spent her first 20 years in the Midwest, I can tell you that I feel the change of seasons in the Sunshine State just as much as I did back in Indiana. Whatever the season, Florida suits me just fine.

THE NAU-TEA-CAL PARTY

By Barb Hansen
September 2010


"Tis the political season in America. Politicians are running around with grease guns promising to lubricate every squeaky wheel. But have you noticed, they never offer to lubricate the squeaks coming from the recreational boating community. And why is that exactly?

Maybe it's because we boaters don't squeak. We're self-reliant types. You know the drill. I can still hear my parents: Take personal responsibility. Don't buy what you can't afford. Save for the future. All that.

So, I've been thinking, maybe we should start squeaking.

We need an organization. Call it, what?

How about The Nau-tea-cal Party?

It would be based on boating principals. All members would be expected to remain self-reliant and not spend more than they have. It would also be based on the principal that so long as our elected officials are throwing our money around then they should splurge on us, too.

Compared to what other squeaky wheels demand, we boaters won't ask for much.

For starters, how about a little positive recognition? I propose a National Boating Holiday. This would be a summer holiday. All employees, not just government workers, should get a paid day off to go boating. Wait. Make that a two-day national holiday.

Instead of spending billions to bail out the auto industry, our politicians could declare that they will not let any boating company fail. Because, where does it say that bailing out a auto company is better than saving a U.S. boat company?

Washington doesn't realize it but the country suffers from a huge postal delivery problem. As it stands now the USPS does not deliver to people who live on their boats. If the USPS can deliver bulk mail advertising to a citizen who lives 200 miles from nowhere it can surely deliver to a boat moored out there in the harbor.

If politicians can spend billions of dollars to pay farmers not to grow something or reward them when it doesn't rain, let's squeak until they give some of that lubricant to marine stores and waterfront restaurants to subsidize some of our favorite things.

Of course, we need to do something for the children. If high schools can teach Drivers Ed, then by golly let's squeak for Boaters Ed. We could have a Department of Boating with such programs as No Boater Left Behind.

There is so much to do for the children, not just nationally but at the state and local levels. In St. Louis they're offering parents $900 to enroll their children at one public school. Why not offer parents another $900 to enroll their children in a course about why boaters make better citizens?

Oh, and let's demand a Boaters Tax Free Week. All boats, boating gear, boat and fishing charters, accessories, boating clothes and boat shoes would be sales tax free. (I just love those cute boat shoes in all the bright colors.)

But I digress.

Commentator Glenn Beck recently put on a rally on the Mall in Washington called, “Restoring Honor.” Well, there are no citizens more honorable than boaters.

Okay, then, let's organize our own citizens rally called, “Restoring Fiscal Sanity" and invite mariners from around the world to gather in Fort Myers, Florida in a show of solidarity.

We'll dump tea in the harbor, rum in our cups and sing R E S P E C T by Aretha Franklin.
Hey, we could make it into a robo-call that rings in the home of every politician when he or she is eating dinner.

SUMMER IN PARADISE

By Barb Hansen
August 2010


(Originally released in August 2003)

Here in Southwest Florida, on the beautiful Gulf of Mexico, winters are wonderful. Everybody knows that. But I’m here to tell our readers up north and around the world that our summers are darn nice, too.

No, I’m not having a heat stroke. On the water, our natural air conditioner, summer temperatures are not as warm as the temperatures you see posted for the inland areas of Florida.

On your typical summer day here in paradise, you’ll wake to a thermometer reading 75. Mornings are nice. Lots of boaters do their cruising and fishing from daybreak to lunch, then will duck in to a marina for shade and protection, a swim in the pool and a shower.

By late afternoon temperature will have risen to 92. Clouds grow spectacular formations and darken. It rains. I mean it really rains. Then the rain stops and the sun comes out again. Everything is clean. And you say to yourself, “Wow, it’s so much cooler. That was a good rain.” The clouds move out into the Gulf. The sun sets behind those clouds and shoots colored beams across the wide horizon. It’s a good time of the day to be on a boat or a beach.

I’m not saying that our summers are nicer than summers in many other places. Vic and I have boated up and down the Atlantic Seaboard and will testify that summers from North Carolina to Maine are generally terrific. I have lived in Indianapolis , Milwaukee, St. Louis and Detroit and remember ideal summer days in every city. But I also remember some 100-degree days. (I also remember some 40 below zero days, but that’s another story.)

I hope this doesn’t sound catty, but I sometimes wonder if Midwestern summers were really that nice or did it just seem that way after brutally windy winters and sodden, drizzly springs.

I’ll acknowledge that weather, like beauty, is decided by the comfort zone of the beholder. For some, Florida’s summers are just too warm, I understand. All I’m saying is make up your own mind. I’ve heard it said that Florida summers are an acquired taste. Some Florida residents I know who moved from other states tell me they had to live through a couple of our summers before they learned to appreciate them.

What about hurricanes? Yes, from July to November, we have to keep an eye on them. Once I noticed a graphic in a newspaper with arrows showing where the major hurricanes have come ashore in the previous 100 years. The east coast of Florida had dozens of arrows. I saw arrows pointing at all the states of the Atlantic Seaboard from Georgia to Massachusetts. The Gulf Coast of Florida had only two or three arrows. Frankly, hurricanes that enter the Gulf of Mexico are more likely to head toward Texas or Mexico.

Hurricanes are not to be taken lightly but, my point is, neither should the remote possibility of a hurricane veto your summer trip to Florida. Statistically, there’s an equal or better chance of a hurricane striking North Carolina, Virginia, New Jersey, New York’s Long Island, and Massachusetts. The point is, if hurricanes hold that kind of power over you, then you shouldn’t take summer vacations near any of the Atlantic states either.

I’m sure you know that some TV reporters tend to overstate the case on weather. We’re still smarting down here by Dan Rather’s report during Hurricane Andrew that Fort Myers was going to get a direct hit. In fact, Andrew struck the other coast of Florida. But the damage was done. Loose lips sink tourism.

Here’s what I think. Decide for yourself. I decided long ago that summers in Florida, like the winters, are darn nice. Ah, paradise.

ANNIVERSARY PERSPECTIVES

By Barb Hansen
July 2010


An anniversary is to celebrate, certainly. It’s also a good time to check vital signs, especially pulse and perspective.

Vic and I celebrate two anniversaries in July. Our wedding and our yacht-charter firm, Southwest Florida Yachts. Number 26 for both. Silver-plus.

I’m happy to report our vitals are within normal limits. However, on the business side, our pulse is up a bit. I attribute it to uncertainties of the oil leak.

Fortunately, perspective is as it is supposed to be. Age and anniversaries give us perspective which, I think, is the best vital sign of all for gauging the health of an enterprise, marriage or business.

Being a boater adds a dose of perspective, too. The sea, like life, is not predictable. We may plan a cruise but big seas or threat of a storm will change our minds.

The oil has not reached our near-shore waters or our beaches in Southwest Florida and I don’t think it will. No guarantees, of course.

But it is a huge challenge for those in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama with tar balls on their marshes and beaches.

The oil situation is a biggie, no doubt about it. But 26 years of operating a charter boat business and a marriage have taught us to take the long view.

I’ve told this story before but in 1984, the year we got married and the year we opened the business nuclear arms controls with the USSR were falling apart and many thought -- I thought -- we were close to having a nuclear war. It didn't happen. I gained a bit of perspective on that one.

Remember 9/11? More than 3,000 people died. Business stopped all over the U.S., not just in the Gulf region. And, as with the spill, there was uncertainty. We wondered how bad would terrorism get? Will they poison our water supply? Blow up a nuclear power station? So far; so good. More perspective.

The 2010 earthquake in Haiti killed 230,000 people. Hurricane Katrina in 2005 was no slouch, killing 1800 people and causing $84 billion in damages.

As of this date the BP oil leak, I have read, is not even the biggest oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico. In 1979 an oil well in Mexico blew out and spewed something like 140 million gallons of oil before it was capped. Oil washed up on the shores of Mexico and the U.S.

It was bad but, ultimately, the sea won that one. There are living microbes in the water that consume oil, some of which leaks naturally from the floor of the Gulf.

Disasters are killers. They cause damage. And when we don’t know how bad one is going to get, the natural reaction is fear. Perspective helps us manage that fear.

We can’t give in to fear or we would become paralyzed. We wouldn’t go out of our house, or drive a car, or get in a boat if we let what ifs rule. We simply can’t dwell on the what ifs in life if we really want to live without fear

The BP oil leak is a toughie as disasters go but we will get through it like we do all other challenges. That’s my perspective.

SUMMER VIEWS OF FLORIDA

By Barb Hansen
June 2010


This is the low season in Southwest Florida.

Now we’ll try to get ready for another January-May season. We’ll check engines and sails, refinish teak and other brightwork. We will make sure that all the power and sail yachts are close-to-perfect. And we’ll be scheduling the most popular boats for another high season.

It feels good to back off a bit after a hectic high season of chartering boats and teaching boating. Our schedules are less busy. We can kick back, take a deep breath and get out and enjoy the beauty and adventure of Florida that we love to tell our customers about.

I love the low season but, alas, this year I’m conflicted. As it turns out the phones are ringing and we are getting some low season yacht charter trips set up and now I am wondering, is Louisiana’s oil misfortune our good fortune? I don’t know. I want to think that our low-season charter customers love us for all the right reasons.

I was born in Florida – that makes me a “cracker,” I guess – but I grew up in Indiana so I know what the weather there is like. I’ve been back in Florida for more than 25 years. And it has been in the past quarter-century that I have learned to love our summers and autumns as much as I love Florida’s winters and springs.

I call June bird-toddler month. I just saw a little blue heron picking off fiddler crabs on the seawall. Every day egrets and herons little and large high-step it along rows of bushes and pick off lizards that weren’t paying attention.

You see. There is a lot going on. You just have to know what to look for.

By July clouds are popping up in the afternoons. Usually they’ll bring an afternoon shower to cool things off. The clouds create spectacularly colorful sunsets. Our winter charters don’t get to see those kinds of sunsets. I wish they could be here for that.

Anglers love Florida in the summer. Summer is when fish are biting. Boca Grande Pass is world headquarters for catching a tarpon, king of inshore gamefish. I’m told that our fish don’t bite well in the winter; the water’s too cold for them. See, it’s all relative.

I know, I know. The summer months are warm and humid. That’s why we start work a little early and quit a little early. Shade is our default position. Also, maybe you’ve heard, it’s cooler near the water. And some boats even have air conditioning.

October, November and December bring delightful temperatures to Southwest Florida, almost as perfect as January-May although, for sure, we keep an eye out for tropical weather. It might come our way. It usually doesn’t.

This is the low season in Southwest Florida and I’m high on it but something nags me about it. Why, this midwestern transplant wonders, don’t more people visit Florida in the low season? Didn’t they get the memo? Florida is spectacular in the low season. And it’s on sale.

We love our wading birds. We love our game fish. We love our sunsets. We love our beaches. They are squeaky clean, by the way. So is the water. Come see for yourself. I think you’re going to love it, too.

And all you media types – you know who you are -- if you're reading this, you can just stop it with the Be-Very-Afraid oil leak "news." It ain't working.

THE WILL TO LIVE

By Barb Hansen
May 2010


One of the most compelling pictures I have ever seen shows a man sitting on an upside-down boat in big waves, cold spray all around. His arms hug the sharp, unforgiving lower unit of the outboard motor.

I call it “The Will to Live” photo.

With just one frame we learn so much; we feel so much.

In a flash we know the Coast Guard has found the sportfishing boat with four young men they have been searching for all night in the Gulf storm. Whew. Oh, but there is just one man. So three have died. Yet, they have found and saved this man. Good.

It is a compelling picture, also, because in the next instant we understand that the young man in the picture – we learn his name is Nick Schuyler – also feels these emotions, times 100.

We wonder, too, what is going through the minds of the Coast Guardsmen who are in the spotter planes and helicopters as they look down on 16,000 square miles of rough seas, hoping to spot something -- what? -- in a sea of whitecaps.

Is it all in a day’s work for them? No, they want to save lives. This is what they do as Coast Guardsmen. This is what they do as human beings.

More recently, and in a similar way, we watched and waited and hoped for good news about the 29 miners trapped in a West Virginia coal mine. Our hopes were dashed. And I am certain that the first responders were saddened, too. This was not another day at work.

Eleven oil workers were missing after the BP rig exploded in the Gulf of Mexico. The Coast Guard sent four cutters and helicopters. The Guardsmen rescued over 110 men and they spent another four days searching for the 11 missing workers. All in a day’s work? I don’t think so.

When the earthquakes struck Haiti and Chili, when a mile-wide tornado sliced and diced Yazoo City, first responders jumped into the fray and saved lives. Not just police, paramedics and firemen. Neighbors. Good citizens. Human beings. Sometimes, heroism is neighbor helping neighbor. Sometimes it’s stranger helping stranger.

Then, there are stories like this one out of New York City. A woman was attacked at an ATM. A homeless man tried to fend off the attacker but he was stabbed. He fell to the pavement, blood pouring out of his wound. The video camera showed people walking by him, barely giving him a glance. One person looked more closely, even turned him over, but then he walked off.

So what do we make of it all? Well, heroism may be commonplace, but you cannot always count on it.

The picture of Nick Schuyler clinging to the cold, hard metal of the outboard motor talks to us.

I don’t know what is going through his mind but I hope that he will come to understand that wanting to live and fighting to stay alive so he could be rescued was heroic in itself. His struggle to live will always serve as a terrific example to the rest of us not to give up, ever, to love life, and to make the most of it.

I salute the Coast Guard. Especially, I salute the guardsmen who trained for this search and wanted to save this life. I salute their spouses and their young sons and daughters for loaning them to us for this risky business.

I know they will look for us out there. They are trained to do this. They want to do it. They will do it. You can count on it. Nick knew this and so he held on for dear life. It inspires us to hold on for dear life.

The sea is big. Our boats are small. Life is huge.

A GIFT FROM THE SEA

By Barb Hansen
April 2010


Recently I was on the phone with a man and we were discussing plans for his family’s one-week yacht charter vacation. Every day was planned to the max.

I suggested he might not be able to keep such a schedule due to weather or other factors. But he told me he had been an officer in the U.S. Navy. He had everything planned down to a five-minute timetable.

It seems everybody wants to carry their busy lifestyles over into their vacation on the water. Hurry is their mantra, their default position. Hurry to the office, hurry to pick up the kids, rush home, eat dinner, homework, hurry.

Oh my. I’m not a paragon of the virtue of patience but one thing I think I have learned in 25 years in the yacht chartering business is that cruises can be ruined by schedules that are too ambitious.

Sometimes the weatherman has some timely advice. Winds are up. Waves are high. A storm is coming. Stay in port. That kind of advice always trumps a schedule.

But, even when safety is not a consideration, it’s good to remember that sometimes doing something is not as much fun as just doing nothing. Keeping to a schedule can lessen the fun and spontaneity of cruising. It can make the family-man-skipper the bad guy even though he wants everybody to have a great time.

Lately I have been reading an essay about A Gift from the Sea, a book written by Anne Morrow Lindberg, wife of the man who first flew solo across the Atlantic Ocean.

She wrote, “The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.”

Sometimes your gift from the sea is a placid cove with the perfect spot to anchor-up. There is room for just one boat. Yours. You “own” it. It’s wonderful. Herons, egrets and spoonbills are wading on that flat over there. A family of manatees comes over to investigate. Oh, look, there’s a pod of dolphins.

Sorry. Your schedule tells you to keep moving. Awwww, Dad, do we have to?

Patience doesn’t come easy for many of us. Through the ages men and women of wisdom have counseled patience. Patience is wisdom. Patience is virtuous. Okay. But still we’d rather check things off on our to-do lists. I know somebody who confessed to adding tasks to his to-do list so he could experience the pleasure of checking them off, too.

Patience is a good thing, we say. But we still prefer to rush through the day by repeating inner voice truisms that have no relationship to the task at hand. Time is of the essence. Get ‘er done. Do something.

Successful cruising is not like that.

Auguste Rodin, who sculpted “The Thinker,” said, “Patience is also a form of action.”

You could check it off.

A GIFT FROM THE SEA

By Barb Hansen
April 2010


Recently I was on the phone with a man and we were discussing plans for his family’s one-week yacht charter vacation. Every day was planned to the max.

I suggested he might not be able to keep such a schedule due to weather or other factors. But he told me he had been an officer in the U.S. Navy. He had everything planned down to a five-minute timetable.

It seems everybody wants to carry their busy lifestyles over into their vacation on the water. Hurry is their mantra, their default position. Hurry to the office, hurry to pick up the kids, rush home, eat dinner, homework, hurry.

Oh my. I’m not a paragon of the virtue of patience but one thing I think I have learned in 25 years in the yacht chartering business is that cruises can be ruined by schedules that are too ambitious.

Sometimes the weatherman has some timely advice. Winds are up. Waves are high. A storm is coming. Stay in port. That kind of advice always trumps a schedule.

But, even when safety is not a consideration, it’s good to remember that sometimes doing something is not as much fun as just doing nothing. Keeping to a schedule can lessen the fun and spontaneity of cruising. It can make the family-man-skipper the bad guy even though he wants everybody to have a great time.

Lately I have been reading an essay about A Gift from the Sea, a book written by Anne Morrow Lindberg, wife of the man who first flew solo across the Atlantic Ocean.

She wrote, “The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.”

Sometimes your gift from the sea is a placid cove with the perfect spot to anchor-up. There is room for just one boat. Yours. You “own” it. It’s wonderful. Herons, egrets and spoonbills are wading on that flat over there. A family of manatees comes over to investigate. Oh, look, there’s a pod of dolphins.

Sorry. Your schedule tells you to keep moving. Awwww, Dad, do we have to?

Patience doesn’t come easy for many of us. Through the ages men and women of wisdom have counseled patience. Patience is wisdom. Patience is virtuous. Okay. But still we’d rather check things off on our to-do lists. I know somebody who confessed to adding tasks to his to-do list so he could experience the pleasure of checking them off, too.

Patience is a good thing, we say. But we still prefer to rush through the day by repeating inner voice truisms that have no relationship to the task at hand. Time is of the essence. Get ‘er done. Do something.

Successful cruising is not like that.

Auguste Rodin, who sculpted “The Thinker,” said, “Patience is also a form of action.”

You could check it off.

BARB'S STATE OF THE UNION

By Barb Hansen
March 2010

[Barb Hansen is on vacation. This is her column for February 2007]

Thank you very much, Madame Speaker, Mr. Vice President, members of Congress, distinguished guests, and fellow boaters.

Despite what you read in the media, the state of our favorite form of recreation -- boating -- has never been stronger.

For many Americans, for generations, boating has brought fulfillment that no other form of recreation can match.

For the newly married couple the search for and purchase of their first boat has symbolized a lifelong commitment to each other and to the institution of marriage.

Parents and children cruise, water-ski, fish, paddle and set sail together. Boating builds stronger families and stronger persons and makes our country stronger, too.

Young men and women grow into more responsible adults because of the responsibility that boating teaches.

For newly retired couples, boating is the vessel that helps them chart and sail to new horizons.

From Seattle to Sanibel and from Cape Hatteras to Half Moon Bay recreational boating reinforces the inherent dignity and the birth right of freedom of every person.

Madame Speaker, my administration will be proposing to the Congress of the United States a set of initiatives to address certain boating issues that have long been ignored and, until remedied, will be like a chalky substance on the fiberglass hull, corrosion on the hardware, and sun- and mold-streaked sections on the teak decks of the American way of life.

Our cause is just, and it continues.

We ask the Congress to join the administration in passing “Barb’s Better Boating Bill,” a set of three critical initiatives.

First, we ask lawmakers to support the heavenly cause of peace and quiet by pointing the nation’s finger of shame and blame on every boater who violates marina environmental etiquette.

We recommend penalties for those whose stereos and noisy generators continue to disrupt the fabric of our nation’s sleep patterns. Permit me to add, on a personal note, that if those inconsiderate people insist on playing their stereos after hours would they please, for goodness’ sake, at least play some Sergio Mendez & Brasil ‘66.

Secondly, we propose an urgent national program to help waterfront restaurants expand their menus so that they serve more than just hamburgers and fries. I don’t mean that they have to add crepe suzettes with fresh strawberries to the menu but would it kill them to offer a big, fresh salad?

Finally, I want the Congress to address the urgent issue of boater education. Next week my administration will ask the Congress to allocate the appropriate resources to each state, based on number of boat registrations, to initiate programs that once and for all time eradicate the disease of boat docking disasters. How long, oh how long must all those in the marina listen to the gut-wrenching sound of a moveable object -- a boat -- forcibly crunching into an immovable object -- a dock.

This program would provide a sizeable tax deduction for seeking a degree from an academic institution, including the highly-regarded liveaboard yacht school in North Fort Myers called the Florida Sailing & Cruising School. No, this is not an earmark.

From sea to shining sea boating has demonstrated its power to make our people better citizens and our country stronger. Steadfast in our purpose, we now press on.

My fellow Americans, this is the time to answer the plaintive call of our boat-loving countrymen to be able to get a good nights sleep in a popular marina, have better things to eat while boating, and to have the confidence and ability to back a big boat into a little slip anywhere, anytime.

Let no boater be left behind. God bless you and God bless America's boaters.

MY BOATING VALENTINE

By Barb Hansen
February 2010


When we were dating, Vic told me that he had been in love before. Apprehensively, I waited to hear love stories that didn’t involve me.

The first true love of his life, Vic said, occurred when he was only 12 years old. He had an affair with an older sailboat. He even made a set of sails for it…from bed sheets. Hmmm. Other love stories followed. The objects of his affection were -- you got it -- boats.

I understood that his pre-teen’s psyche had been imprinted with a powerful, though strange, attraction. I married him anyway.

Now fast forward to a few years ago. I turned to the comic strips and went immediately to my favorite, Hagar the Horrible.

From his comic strip barstool Hagar the Horrible was telling his drinking buddies that he had had nine true loves in his life. All boats. OMG, I thought, that’s Vic and he’s channeling Hagar the Horrible.

I’m loving it. I clipped and taped this strip to the refrigerator.

I’m not sure to this day if I know about all of Vic’s earlier sweethearts but I’ve been an enthusiastic partner with him on every acquisition since. The arrows that Cupid released at us were surely tipped with a Love Boat Potion.

When I read that cartoon strip my boating memory kicked in and I started counting up our loves: Dolphin, a 36-foot ketch, was our “home” for four years. Others include two Boston Whalers, a few sloops, several Grand Banks trawlers, and assorted dinghies.

Hagar told the boys in the bar that a man is lucky if he has one true love in his life. A boat owner nine times, Hagar had been lucky nine times. Counting boats only, Vic and I have Hagar’s kind of luck.

Sometimes truth speaks to you from the funny papers. Sometimes it’s from the news section.

Did you hear about the new cruise ship for 3,500 passengers? Impressive specs, this boat: 1, 487 cabins, 3,710 bunk spaces, and who knows how many miles of all you can eat buffet lines.

Those specs don’t impress me. My votes goes for something with two or maybe three cabins, a reliable vessel with a shallow draft that motors smoothly along a placid coastal waterway framed by mangrove wilderness and views of wading birds, dolphins and the occasional family of manatees.

My cruise ship doesn’t have an activities director; it doesn’t have an ATM; it doesn’t have an onboard hospital. In fact, it doesn’t have a schedule unless you say so. If it’s Tuesday, it’s not Belgium, it’s probably Sanibel Island, or Useppa Island, or the most beautiful beach you’ve ever seen on Cayo Costa Island. Cruise ships can’t go there, and that’s a good thing.

On my favorite cruise ship dressing up for a meal means pulling a tee shirt over your swimsuit. Passengers don’t cut into the buffet line to take the last shrimp.

And every evening at dinner the captain sits at my table.

ADVENTURES IN RETIREMENT

By Barb Hansen
January 2010


Thanks to medical science we are living longer. Thanks to ibuprofen, we’re also functioning longer.

Retirees, especially, are beneficiaries. With time and a bottle of friendly caplets on their side they can do things earlier generations of retirees could not. Instead of sitting in a rocker and watching re-runs of Golden Girls, retirees today are sitting in a catbird seat and self-directing their lives into new and exciting adventures.

I know this because in my job as proprietor of a yacht school and chartering enterprise I have been privileged to talk to some of these adventurers and I am watching the first wave of boomers plan and take action for the best years of their lives.

One popular plan is our charter yacht ownership program. Essentially, boating couples sign the papers for the vessel of their dreams, but they do it well in advance of the retirement date. They vacation on it, of course, but the yacht joins our charter fleet so others can enjoy it, too. The owners are compensated for this. It helps pay for the boat, the upgrades and upkeep. When they retire, they’ll already have their winter home in Florida, ready to enjoy this great cruising destination and ready for extended cruises to other wonderful ports of call in the U.S. and Caribbean.

Many people who attend our liveaboard yacht school are finishing up their careers and soon will have the time to do what they really want to do. Cruising is a big part of their retirement plan. More than once I have heard them talk about cruising the "Great Loop.” Sometimes called the Great Circle Route, this is the continuous waterway that takes cruisers up the Atlantic Seaboard, across the Great Lakes, down the Mississippi, and along the Gulf of Mexico. They even have their own association.

Cruising the Great Loop seems somehow appropriate for our goal-setting culture. Buried in our careers we seek to build a nest egg and to provide for the future. Once security is in our sights, we look to fulfill another basic instinct -- adventure. An ambitious plan like cruising the Great Circle Route does that.

For some, the Great Loop is their cruising goal, the summit or pinnacle of their boating journey. Once it is accomplished, they hang up their Topsiders and turn to gardening. For others, the Loop is just one leg of a lifelong adventure afloat.

Cruising also is a civilized way to fulfill the deep-seated desire we all have to return to the basics. I call this satisfying our “call of the wild” instinct. Instead of a closet full of clothes and shoes, we bring onboard a duffel bag’s worth of basics and boat shoes. Cruisers know that so long as their clothes suit the weather their outfit is probably perfect for every occasion.

Once upon a time Dinah Shore sang about seeing the USA in your Chevrolet. Today, she could be singing about seeing the USA in your cruising boat. Cruising is a great way to see the USA without having to pull your wheeled vehicle into a gas station every few hours and an interstate motel every night. When you’re cruising, you don’t have to pack and unpack every night. With cruising, your castle is also your mode of transport. It’s fun. It’s scenic. It’s very economical. It’s romantic.

Today’s new generation of retirees are redefining “sailing into the sunset.”

HAVE A VERY BOATING CHRISTMAS

By Barb Hansen
December 2009


'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

I could go on. As a kid I knew the words to almost every Christmas poem or song. Maybe I still do. When I hear a few notes of a holiday melody at the mall or on the radio the lyrics come flooding back.

Melodies and poems we learned as children are the best. They prompt memories of the excitement we felt at Santa's after midnight visit to every house. He was, of course, loaded up with toys, most of them for us.

Christmas is for kids, they say, but when those melodies and rhymes come flooding back I realize Christmas is for grown-ups, too. The childhood memories are great, for sure, but the best part is that as adults we can get excited about toys that really matter. Like boats and boating gear.

So now, when one of those old sets of lyrics get stuck in my head, I change the subject. Just slightly.

On the dock before Christmas
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all 'long the dock
Nothing was stirring, not even the wind sock.
The stockings were hung on the pilings with care
In hopes that St. Nicholas would be tying up there.

The Crew was all nestled snug in their beds
While visions of calm seas danced in their heads.
With the Captain in Topsiders and me in flip-flops
We’d just finished star-gazing on the fly bridge up top.

When up on the deck there arose such a clatter
We sprang from our bunks to see what was the matter
Out of the bed I flew in a dash,
Ran up the aft steps and threw open the hatch.

The full moon illuminated the boats all around,
While local cruisers and creatures made not a sound.
When up on the bridge deck what dropped in
But a yacht full of toys pulled by eight blue dolphins.

Hey, I'm just getting started. I recall those white and brown winters back home in Indiana. Believe me, it was easy to learn to like Florida's blue-green winters.

White Christmas. Not.
I'm dreaming of a blue-green Christmas, unlike the ones I used to know
Where the water glistens, and grown-ups hasten, to join cruises on the go.

Deck the hull
Deck the hull with a store-bought tree, fa la la la la la la la la.
'Tis the season to cruise with glee, fa la la la la la la la la.
Don we now our boating apparels, fa la la la la la la la la.
To explore those peaceful Florida channels, fa la la la la la la la la.

Rudy the rum-punch skipper
Rudy the rum punch skipper, had a very shiny glow
When one gala yacht club eve, he started singin'
With funny antlers blinking on his head
Then all the other reindeer called him Blitzen.
Oops. I need your help on that last one. For now, I'll take off my lighted earrings to say, quite seriously, I wish you a very boating Christmas

PROPOSED: BOATING'S THANKSGIVING DAY

By Barb Hansen
November 2009


In some families they go around the Thanksgiving Day table and each person is thankful for something good that happened in the previous year.

When it was my turn I'd be so thankful for my favorite subject – that would be boating -- they'd have to shut me up or else the just-baked turkey would get cold.

Boating is my year-around Thanksgiving feast, my bread and butter. Office hours are long but the activity usually doesn't sink to the pejorative category of "work." Boating also is my favorite off-duty recreation. Either way, I am around boats, and I am thankful.

So thankful, in fact, that I am going to start talking up the idea of having a day set aside each year for boaters to be thankful for boating.

On Boating Thanksgiving each year, as we sit for the meal, each person would be thankful for something good that boating, just boating, has done for them in the previous year.

For myself, I am thankful for 25th anniversaries. Vic and I celebrated two in 2009, our marriage and our business.

I really enjoy chartering boats to people from all over the world so they can cruise the beautiful, sheltered waters of Southwest Florida. For this and for another year of helping boaters achieving higher levels of boating skills to maximize their fun sailing and power cruising, I am thankful.

I am thankful for a summer without storms, for happy hours on the dock and happy hours on the deck watching glorious sunsets with friends, and for many evenings afloat under the stars.

I am thankful for beach-combing treasures—sea-sculpted driftwood, colorful crab pot floats, and exquisitely-shaped shells that wash up on the shores of the sea shell capital of the world.
I am even thankful for another season of sailing regattas (even though we have never won a race.)
Boating Thanksgiving is for looking ahead to the next 12 months, too. I look forward to another year of cruising with our honorary first mate, Star, our border collie. This year I'll introduce boating to our two newest kitties. Boat-trained cats make terrific boating companions, I'm told.
After everybody has paid their oral tributes to boating and voiced their exhuberant hear, hears and clunked their plastic glasses together, it would be time to eat.

Every boating family will have to create its own menu for Boating Thanksgiving Day. I'll be serving up our traditional Florida feast of cold stone crab claws, hot oyster stew and corn bread stuffing.
Whatever you serve on this day, serve it with a cup of compassion for your fellow citizens, a pint of peace for the world, and a big scoop of hope for brighter days ahead.
Hear, hear.

A SALUTE TO BOAT DOGS

By Barb Hansen
October 2009


Star the Wonder Dog is on our minds a lot lately. She is almost 15 now and recently dislocated her hip. The vet put it back in place, but she was a three-legged dog for a couple of weeks. She is better now, but slower. This is only natural since she's more than 100 in human years.

Star had a mini-stroke in 2008 that affected her balance and coordination. However, her border collie instincts remain strong. She can't seem to accept that she isn't able to run and jump like before. The will is still there, but the results are not. Her attempts to herd the cats around the house are, I’m sure, met with grins from her feline sisters.

Star is the World’s Best Boat Dog, and has been since 2003 when Vic and I gave her that title. In a column that year I invited owners of other boat dogs to enter their pets in the contest but I warned them that the best their pets could place was second.

Star is a trawler dog. To earn her sleep and dish of food, Star would patrol the perimeter of the vessel to make sure enemies (like gulls and pelicans) did not land without permission. If an oriole landed on the bow pulpit to rest after its spring migration flight across the Gulf of Mexico, that was okay.

Star was never given the opportunity to herd sheep. But, for a time, in her younger days, she tried to herd dolphins from the deck of the trawler. Just a whistle and the cry "daaaalphin" from anyone aboard, and Star would leap into action, rapidly moving from one side of the boat to the other, barking at the playful creatures as they surfed the bow wave or rode the wake astern.

Star is our office dog, too. Vic and I have always thought that Star was a terrific judge of character. The customers she really liked always turned out to be the nicest people. The same was true for employees. A long time ago a lady joined our staff. For some reason Star would not go near her. After a couple of months the employee left. I think Star knew she was not going to stay.

But she yearns to be on the water, as do her owners. We pick her up and carry her on and off the boat. As we move across the bay, her nose points upward and she happily sniffs the salt air. As we move into the narrow channels it twitches this way to sniff the birds in the mangroves on one side and twitches that way to enjoy the smells from a waterfront restaurant on the other.

She may be getting gray around the nose, and achy in the joints, but she still loves to be on the boat. Her days may be numbered -- and I think she knows that, too -- but she’ll make the most of her time left. For boat dogs, there is no time nor inclination to self-pity. The way I figure it all dogs on God’s blue water planet are hard-wired to go boating. After all, are they not descended from the original pair that survived the flood aboard Noah’s Ark?So this is our salute to Star and to all boat dogs, and a salute to all the owners of boat dogs who brought them on board and taught them the do's and don'ts of boating. For both parties to this agreement, it has been a win-win.

BOATING'S HEALTH REFORM

By Barb Hansen
September 2009


I didn't go to a town hall meeting but I would like to share a health reform idea with our elected representatives and the inside-the-beltway crowd.

What I will tell you has been pretty much boating's secret but it's time we told the rest of the world. Are you sitting down?

Boaters are healthier.

A lot of people will doubt that assertion, I know. We have all known individual boaters who were not careful, such as those who venture out into rough seas or manage to get their fingers smashed between the boat and the dock.

But the non-boating world has its reckless types, too. Vic and I keep wondering why we have to pay the doctors and hospitals who try to save the life of the motorcycle rider without insurance and without a helmet who crashes while weaving in and out of traffic.

But, as a group, boaters report they are healthier than other Americans. The online survey of 542 boat owners and 536 non-boat owners was conducted by Impulse Research Corporation for the boating industry.

It turns out that boat owners rated their overall well-being, health, work, leisure, sleep and finances as “very good” or “excellent.” They also reported higher levels of satisfaction in marriage and romance than non-boaters. These are the kinds of people the insurance companies love.

Conversely, non-boaters told researchers they felt “useless, lonely, unhappy and fatigued.” Oh my. They must have polled some congressmen who lost control of their own town hall meetings.

Studies suggest that children of boaters are healthier, too. Another boating industry survey showed that kids who boat were healthier physically and psychologically. They were more outgoing, more optimistic, more self-confident, more likely to be team players, more likely to be peer group leaders, and more likely to keep their pants hitched up.

Okay, I just made up the part about the pants.

Anyway, the research also showed that boating kids were more likely to do household chores and help with cooking. They have more interests. They regularly participate in eight activities while non-boating kids averaged only four. Another family bonus: boating children spent more quality time with parents, even in non-boating months.

So, to my point. I know how Congress can make Americans healthier. Give every person a boat.

Yes. In place of a health care bill that few have read and nobody can understand, how about a simple boat voucher program that puts Americans on the road (water?) to good health.

The program will probably save money, too, not that money is a consideration in DC. (Or, if it is, they could just call it a stimulus. I'm sure they will stipulate a new marina on the Potomac, just for the people's elected representatives, don't you know.)

Boat vouchers will be better than cash for clunkers, cash for appliances, cash for coiffures. Americans will feel great, there will be fewer cars on the road, boat dealers can stay in business, and there will be no need to pull the plug on grandma.

A whole country full of happy boating people is everything our congresspersons could hope for, particularly when they schedule town hall meetings.

GETTING OVER ROMEO

By Barb Hansen
August 2009


"What's in a name?"

Actually, Juliet, a lot. If it's the name on a boat, you already know something about the man at the wheel. Some are funny. Some are sweet. And some – can we talk? – are recovering from addiction or, worse, they are still chained to their self-medications.

A rose by any name would smell as sweet but, honey, I'm telling you, you do not want to share cockpit air with the owners of Beeracuda or Sir Osis of the River. A plague on both their houses.

Nor do you want to be the soul mate of a guy who skippers Blew Too Much.

You do not want to date the skipper of Eat Drink and Re-marry. If you cruise with the owner of Sin or Swim, I hope you can swim. I am not giving you a pass to date the boys aboard Stocks and Blonds, Knotty Buoy, Making Luff and Sail Bad the Sinner.

However, I don't think I'm over stepping the bounds of modesty to suggest that you can spend quality time with the guy on Say Maybe.

Boat names have always fascinated me. I have seen a bunch in a quarter-century of watching boats come and go at Marinatown Marina in N. Fort Myers, home to our charter fleet. This I believe: The name on the boat goes with the name of the skipper. Positively. Absolutely.

I have not met the skippers of Bow Movement and Helmroid but I already know what is on their minds and other areas of their anatomy.

What got me thinking about boat names was the annual news release from the BoatUS with its Top Ten List of Most Popular Boat Names. You'll recognize some of them as carryovers from the year before. And the year before that. And the year before that.

You do not want to cruise on one of these boats, in my opinion. The kind description of the owner is that he recognized a clever boat name. The not so kind description is that he is a copycat. Seas the Day tops the list this year. Oh so clever. Not.

At one time or another, all of the runner-ups have made the list, I'm pretty sure: Summer Daze, Second Chance, Aqua-Holic, Wind Seeker, Dream Weaver, Black Pearl, Hydrotherapy, The Salt Shaker, Sea Quest. I think I'll take a nap now.

I'm all for boating. You know that. But, Juliet, don't spend time with the boater who can't manage his money. These are the guys whose boats have names like Lackamoolah, A-Loan Again, and What College Fund?

Just between us girls, to help you get over Romeo, may I recommend some men whose cruising company you will enjoy.

You'll relax and laugh on Ahoy Vey, A One Anna Tuna, Oh Buoy, Oh Buoy, and Snap Shackle & Pop.

If you like blue water fishing spend some time on Marlin Monroe. However, if the angler drinks Marilyn Merlot it could be a sign that he can't get on with his life. There's a lesson in that.

I'm betting you'll feel special cruising with the guy who named his boat Sea Weedy Pie.

But, look. You're in no rush to get married. Those who go fast, you know, stumble. So cruise slowly with your guy on one of the just-for-two boats in our charter fleet. I recommend the good boat Patience.

Should true love blossom, and I hope it does, you and your helmsman should shop for a vessel suited for happily-ever-after cruising for the two of you and, infrequently, your in-laws.

Please let him name it JULIET.

REMEMBERING THE FUTURE

By Barb Hansen
July 2009

Nineteen eighty-four was a double-good year. Vic and I got married. And we started our yacht chartering and liveaboard yacht school business in N. Fort Myers. This has been our one-two punch for personal happiness.

Our plan was to live happily ever after but we weren't sure how long "ever after" was going to last. The Cold War was on a front burner then and I was half-expecting a nuclear explosion would occur during or shortly after our honeymoon.

Now, with 25 years under our happily-ever-after belts, I try to remember to put things in perspective.

Thank goodness for anniversaries. They insist that we kick back, pat each other on the back, and recall some of the good, the very good and the funny.

We recall events that fall into the laugh-a-lot category, especially in the retelling, crazy tales from today's crazy boating business world.

One couple took a liveaboard course and cruise. They said they wanted to see if they were compatible for long range cruising. I guess the answer was no. They bought an RV instead of a boat. With the RV, I surmised, they could pull over when their compatibility quotient dropped and go for walks in opposite directions.

I think we helped some couples discover more about themselves and whether they were meant for each other.

A gentleman called to book a power yacht charter for two. The problem was the lady he was planning to take cruising was not his wife. He didn't tell us not to mail our charter information to his home.

I remember one time when two couples cruised together. I learned later that one couple argued the entire time. When they got back, they immediately went to see separate divorce attorneys.

Not all of our customers were veteran boaters so their boating knowledge bank still had show-through gaps.

One lady on a sailboat without a generator called from their anchorage to complain that there was no electrical power for her hair dryer. I think she was relieved to learn that they could plug into shore power when they overnighted at a marina.

I remember overhearing a VHF radio conversation between a boater and a towing company. The towing firm operator asked, "Where are you located?" The boater answered, "I am right here by the mangroves."

One person called and asked if our celebrated barrier islands like Sanibel and Captiva would still be here if they cruised in the summertime.

You can't, as they say, make this stuff up.

We recall these episodes, not to embarrass anyone, but to help us put our life's work into perspective.

We have had so many recollections that fall into the very good category there is not enough room to mention them all. Here's one: I fondly remember the Harvard family of New Mexico – mother-father-son-daughter – who came here a few years ago to take a liveaboard boating course. For me, they personified a theory I'd been nursing a long while. Boating teaches exactly the same things you would hear at a success-in-life seminar: Set goals. Practice. Be a team player. Accept responsibility. Get your sleep. And, importantly, laugh a lot.

And, from this 25-year perspective, this is what I think I know: Things come and go. The hula hoop had its day. Paris Hilton, too. Dancing with the Stars is fun to watch but before long we'll tire of it and someday we'll remember it like we remember watching J.R. Ewing on Dallas.

I also know this. Boating is not the hula-hoop, Paris Hilton or Dancing with the Stars.

Boating has been with us since shortly after man discovered he couldn't walk on water and it will be with us at least until he can. (Ponder that!)

Put things in perspective, I remind myself. OK. My perspective is boating will be here for the very long run. I'm really looking forward to the next 25 years.

A BOATER CONTEMPLATES FREEDOM

By Barb Hansen
June 2009

July 4 is a great holiday known mainly across America for its downtown parades, family cookouts, and boisterous fireworks. I like to celebrate the fourth on the boat or the beach.

Grilling burgers and watching fireworks from the aft deck or from loungers on the beach is even better.

Boats and beaches are the only places I can think of that release us, at least temporarily, from the ever-increasing tangle of laws that govern just about everything we do on land, not counting beaches.

I always thought that beaches were exempt from the tut-tutting looks and wagging fingers of the regulators. Except, I worry, they're not. More about this in a minute.

Boating is golden, though. For me, just the act of releasing the lines and easing the vessel out of the slip delivers a feeling of freedom.

I wrote a July 4 column a few years ago and tried to make the point that after the Declaration of Independence was issued there were not many laws and probably very little law enforcement. Still, American society functioned because most people chose to do good, not because they'd get cited.

Today, I'm proud to say this is still the philosophy that governs boating. Yes, boating has rules, protocols and etiquettes. Some are real laws; most are just customary. And boaters obey them, mainly out of mutual respect for the other boater or waterfront property owner.

I like it when everything is not spelled out in "Do Not" signs yet everybody does the right thing anyway.

I'm worried about our beaches, though. As the gecko on the commercial says, "What's the word?"

Oh yes. Intolerant.

For the most part Florida's beaches are wonderfully tolerant. But increasingly they seem to be coming under the jurisdiction of the tut-tutters, finger waggers, and sign makers.

Yes, it's personal.

Where Vic and I live there is now a new rule about where you can and cannot drive a golf cart. Why? Turtles don't lay their eggs on this beach. There are no crowds on the beach. In fact, most of the time nobody is even on this remote little beach. For 20 years golf carts have been the mode of transportation on this beach with nary a complaint from man, woman, or wildlife advocate.

Now there are signs. “Keep Right, "Stay Left.” Say what?

Sometimes, one also will hear a shrill voice. "Hey, don’t drive your cart over there. You're not supposed to go that way. You’re supposed to go this way!”
These are the non-uniformed police who believe that "it takes a village." The problem is, they are not the village.

So, the bottom line for this boater and beach person is, treat others well. Watch your wake. Don't tread on their beach blanket. Obey all the rules and protocols of a polite society. Because it's the right thing to do. Don't pass laws and put up "do not" signs unless absolutely necessary.

Over time boaters and beach people, on their own, created societies of self-governing mutual respect. Alas, the bureaucrats and finger-waggers of the world can destroy the whole concept of individual responsibility with just one "do-not… This-means-you" sign.

So, here and now, I suggest that American boaters celebrate two things on July 4.

One, let's contemplate and celebrate the Declaration of Independence for the great United States of America.

Two, let's contemplate what I call a Beach and Boating Declaration of Independence. Let us rededicate ourselves to the continuing work of keeping our water and waterfront societies free and tolerant, and setting a good example for America's land-locked citizenry. It isn't "do not" signs that make America great. It's people taking personal responsibility for their actions.

HIGH ON FLORIDA'S 'LOW SEASON'

By Barb Hansen
May 2009

The Florida tourist high season is January through April. So, I suppose that makes the spring, summer and fall months our “low” season.

Well, I love the low season.

“Real Florida,” as our state tourism officials call it, really comes alive in those months and that’s when we locals take the time to enjoy our state, too.

Here at Southwest Florida Yachts the pace of work and life in general is a tad more relaxed. Vic and I can finally push our desk chairs back and plan a cruise for ourselves instead of just arranging charters and yacht classes for others.

Cruising is as good as it gets. Just as the automotive traffic softens on I-75, so does marine traffic soften on the Gulf ICW behind our famous outer islands like Captiva, Sanibel, Useppa, Cayo Costa, and Gasparilla.

Bridge tender language still goes pretty much by the book but this mate hears a friendliness in their voices that I don’t detect during the wait-your-turn season. At the little dock at Cabbage Key there is always a slip for a boat and a table for two.

Dockmasters actually sound happy when we radio them and ask for a slip. At this time of the year we can find an empty lounge chair to lounge by the pool at 'Tween Waters Inn.

Everybody’s metabolism slows down a notch in the summer. We walk a bit slower, talk a bit slower, watch the clouds build and look forward to that afternoon storm and the cool air that follows. Then we watch the sun go down. The breezes off the water blow cool even in the warmest months and the Margaritas are always cold. No worries, mon.

Florida’s wildlife has its own high season and it seems to kick in just about the time so many tourists go home.

Tarpon -- bow to the king -- migrate along the Gulf beaches toward Boca Grande Pass in huge numbers May through July. So do Florida’s tarpon anglers. Snook find their way along the mangrove roots from the upper rivers and bays back to the Gulf passes. Local flats anglers stay right with them. Florida’s low season mornings are picture perfect for jumping tarpon and plugging for snook.

Migratory birds that have wintered in Mexico and Central America fly across the Caribbean and the Gulf of Mexico and make landfall here, hungrily biting all the new berries, buds, seeds and insects they can get their beaks on. Florida birders (you can recognize them by their expensive binoculars) hover around mulberry, fig and sea grape trees and yell out to their comrades-in-optics. “Hey, here’s a female Rose Breasted Grosbeak with red juice all down her chest.” The yelling starts in late April and continues well into the summer. Come September and October, we see the birds again as they rest up and feed up for that long flight back to their wintering grounds. And, with those first cold fronts of the fall, south Florida welcomes back its own migrating snowbirds such as loons and white pelicans from Canada.

I like showing off our lovely part of Florida to visitors during the low season and I’ve always thought it way too sad that so many fail to come here at a time of the year when Florida really shines.

I don’t know what the tourism officials are saying but it seems to me that each year more northern visitors are choosing to come to Southwest Florida in spring and summer.

Lower rates are inviting, I’m sure, but I’m happy for them because they will get to experience the Florida that we year-round Floridians enjoy.

LIFE'S A CRUISE

By Barb Hansen
April 2009

A visit to the beach almost always becomes part of the float plan when our charters plot their cruises along the barrier islands of Southwest Florida. “We’d like to spend a little time on the beach,” they say. Vic and I expect this. “Yes, of course.”

On the charts we show them Cayo Costa, a Gulf island and state park accessible only by boat, and point them toward the best anchorage on the backside of the island. “You can row the dinghy in and it’s only a short walk across the island to the beach. You’ll probably have it all to yourselves.”

Life’s a Beach, the expression goes. Actually, I believe Life’s a Cruise. Both are journeys. They are what we make of them, allowing for some good weather and stormy weather. In either case, we should all include visits to the beach in our life plans.

What is it about the beach exactly that so strongly attracts us to the beach? Are our senses keener on the beach or are the sights and sounds really more vivid? The clean intersection of land, sky and water is surely dramatic. Some charters say they want to be the first on the beach in the morning to pick up shells left behind by the high tide. Some want to be there when the sun sinks into the horizon, lighting up the clouds in vibrant color.

For sure these are terrific reasons to go to the beach but let us not forget all of the other things that beaches let us do.

For one thing, on weekends the people-watching is as good as it gets, an Easter parade without all that the frilly fabric. (On the beach, however, you will see some outrageous hats that look like parodies of Eastern bonnets.) All who walk the beach are equal under the sun and that includes grown boys in Speedos, babes in thongs, and the rest of us in possible need of a nip or a tuck. The beach doesn’t care and neither should you. The beach is the beach whether you’re cavorting with the fancy people on hotel row or the “boat people” on Cayo Costa.

The beach and the sheriff are pretty much okay with anything you want to do on the beach including but not limited to surfing, swimming, shelling, tanning, reading, napping, walking, running, partying, picnicking, kicking a beach ball, throwing a Frisbee or burying your partner in sand. In that last instance the sheriff will insist that you leave the head uncovered so your partner can still breathe.

You can help your young children or grandchildren build sandcastles. You can tell them about the treasure that pirates are said to have buried on this beach years ago. You can help them search for a treasure from a foreign land that may have washed up on this remote Florida beach.

You can supervise the little ones as they shovel sand into a plastic bucket then dump it back into the water, again and again, all the while showing that determined, get-the-job-done look that toddlers have when they’re occupied in meaningful work.

Whatever it is about the beach that makes you want to visit the beach, it seems to me that the beach has a way of transferring energy from the body to the brain. You’re left physically tired but mentally re-charged.

Back on the boat, with good food and rest, your body and brain will be revved up for life's continuing cruise.

TO HAVE AND TO HOLD

By Barb Hansen
March 2009

Becoming a boater is a lot like taking a spouse.

Like the vows spoken to our beloved, we each made unspoken promises to our new boat to have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and in health, and perform routine maintenance.

On our honeymoon cruise we poured a little champagne on the bow and drank the rest. Giddy we were on the maiden voyage, picturing the two of us cruising forever, lifelong partners. We understood, of course, that this marriage, like any, would require regular maintenance and time. Actually, we looked forward to it.

As with all relationships, the true test came after the honeymoon. We often hear people say, "We used to spend more time on the boat when we first got it.” Responsible reasons are offered up. Children were born. They required more of your time. The job was increasingly demanding.

Strolling around Marinatown Marina recently, on another beautiful Florida day, I realized I didn't see many familiar boating faces. Boats rested comfortably in their slips, but they seemed lonely to me.

Has the economic mess persuaded boaters not to spend as much time on their boats as they used to? Is the 24-hour/7-day negativity about jobs, homes and stocks keeping boaters from doing the thing they love the most? I fear this.

It seems to me that now is the time for boaters to be with their boats. Boats float and they move gently in their slips, but they are our rock-solid safe havens from the cares of the world.

I think it's time for many boaters to work on restoring their boating relationships. One way to do this is to spend time with their boat and give it some tender loving care. Like a marriage, sometimes the longer you have the boat the more it requires.

It's comforting to you and, I imagine, also comforting to the boat if you have boat care people who perform regular maintenance and upkeep. (This is one of the grand benefits of putting your boat into charter, by the way.) But, you know, you can do it yourself and enjoy the rewards that come to do-it-yourselfers.

You know the drill. Tend to the engine, changing the oil, oil filters, fuel filter, impellers, etc. as necessary. Grease the fittings. Top off the fuel tank. Start and run the dinghy motor.

Check the electrical system and all the electronics. Do the batteries still hold their charge? Is the marine radio still sending and receiving? Squirt some corrosion-proof lube on the connections.

Scrub, hose, dry, oil, wax. Cover parts of the boat that get the full blast of sun.

When we bought our boats we didn't recite "until death do us part" but there was an implied commitment to make the relationship work. If we're no longer able to make that commitment, then maybe a trial separation is in order. Just remember, it isn't the boat's fault.

But my advice is, do the routine maintenance. Hold on to what you have.

After this labor of love you'll feel better and your boat will look terrific. Invite some friends to join you for an afternoon cruise. Tell them how much you love your boat. Oh, and tell your spouse, too.