Sailboat Costs: Can We Afford This?

Sailboat Costs: Can We Afford This?

My Humans’ new offer was accepted, and they had now purchased me a Sceptre 41 Sailboat. I think they were surprised, but that surprise was followed by delight.

Now, they had to name me.

The naming of a new boat is not to be taken lightly; sailors are a superstitious lot. There are many traditions and ideas about naming a boat, but they are all meant to appease the sea Gods and bring about good luck.

My humans set about removing all the remnants and traces of any previous names I had. They carefully removed letters from my sides and hull and erased any mentions from sailing logs and vessel books.

 Then, they agreed upon my new name. From here forth, I am S/V Gypsea. (The S/V stands for Sailing Vessel, which I hope to be doing lots of.)

Once all the closing paperwork was signed, sealed, and delivered, the real work began. The paperwork was straightforward. Like buying a house, it all goes through a Title Company; funds are held in an escrow account, and all items are transferred between buyer and seller.

In our case, we chose to have me, Gypsea, registered with the U.S. Coast Guard. The Title company took care of all those signatures and requirements. It wasn’t necessary for my humans to have me, (a newly purchased vessel), registered with the Coast Guard but an  advantage of doing so is that it shows proof of ownership for traveling international waters–which, I assume, we will be doing.

Now came the questions of logistics:

1. Where do they put me? Where am I to be stored?
2. How do they get me worked on?
3. And what needs to be done before I can even leave the dock?

My female human, Heather is a Virgo, and loves lists. She immediately pulled out Post It Notes and an assortment of pens and went to work. What needs to be done first?

Our Priority List…

1. Polishing the fuel: As mentioned before, this was one of those big repairs. Internal combustion engines will not run on water; if water comes into the system, my engine will quit. Also,  water causes crap to grow inside me.  There are several reasons why there would be water, but for us, it turned out to be a combination of a leaky O-Ring in the deck fill port and condensation from sitting so long in the damp climate of the Pacific Northwest.

Getting the bilge pumps to work. A bilge pump does exactly that: it pumps unwanted water from the boat back into the sea. Considering you want to float and not sink, this is important.

Addressing the engine water pump: If a pump is blocked or not working properly, the engine can overheat, and then real problems can occur.

Getting Me Insured. My male human, Chris, enjoys many Facebook groups dedicated to me and my family—yes, social media groups about Sceptres! We are a rare and special breed. He had received some recommendations, but Codfather Mike recommended Scott Richard’s Insurance in Anacortes. My Humans made a phone call and were asked to supply a copy of the survey and our sailing resume.

Once these FOUR items are addressed, I can leave the dock for a day of motoring to Anacortes, Washington.

Then I will be pulled out of the water and stored ‘on the hard’; which means, I will be stored in a cradle while all the necessary work, repairs, etc.…will be done.

It is not an easy or inexpensive process, but my Humans are committed. This brings us to the financial piece of the puzzle and another list or three from my female human.

They toyed with many ideas, including staying in Anacortes, finding jobs, and doing some of the work themselves.

But, after weighing the pros, cons, expenses, and income of staying in Anacortes vs. working in Alaska for the summer, where my male human can fly helicopters, they decided to be Alaska-bound.

My female human is an avid traveler and adventurer who collects spoons from all the places she has spent time in- Alaska would make the 50th state- and she wanted that spoon.

So, my humans are off to Alaska for six months, and I will stay here in Anacortes until they return.

Until Next Time…..