Hope

Hope. It won’t pay your bills nor will it fix the hole in the bottom of your shoe. But it might get you through a tough time.

I’ve had the above photo, labeled Happy Kim, in my “find a use for it” pile for a while. When I put together Row Bird, Andy Boat built two Arctic Tern hulls in rapid succession. One for me, one for him.

Being Andy, after a year or two, he was excited about building something else and started thinking about selling his boat, Sigmund. He put a tentative ad on Craigslist just to see if anyone was interested and almost right away got a customer.

That customer was my fellow Portlander and boat-buddy Kim. I hadn’t told Kim that the boat was for sale, because I didn’t know. It just happened that two of my friends who live hundreds of miles apart connected, just like that.

Later Kim told me, “I bought Sigmund while I was unemployed. That felt weird. But I’d already set the cash aside and decided that an act of audacious optimism was in order.”

Some years later, I’d had a rough winter and had been boat shopping for inspiration. I eventually found a beautiful but neglected craft that was inexpensive and in need of work. As the covid madness set in, I began to waver. I wanted the boat. The boat would give me hope and something to do if I got laid off I reasoned. Kim and I texted:

Bruce: “This huge part of me is like GO NOW. This could be my only shot. The other part is like, ARE YOU CRAZY? There’s a pandemic on. And shouldn’t I be saving your money for an emergency?”

Kim: “I understand: we’re remodeling our bathroom and my neighbor thinks it’s nuts to spend money on non-essentials right now. But I’m not spending my e-fund on the project. These are different buckets.”

Bruce: “I think you’re saying we’re both crazy, but you have to live. Now is when we are alive. I’m getting the boat.”

Kim: “I can’t (or won’t) argue with that logic. “

The next day I drove an hour to go get the boat. Before I paid, I hitched it to the car and the bumper declined precipitously, as did my spirits.  I suddenly realized I was in over my head; it was too big to tow with my car, it needed work, and suddenly felt that the logic of spending money in a time of crisis was crazy. I walked away from a disappointed seller.

But somehow, that boat, now known as Luna re-entered my life, and has been a part of it for the last three years.  (Some of you have asked for more details about Luna, wait no longer- click on the My Boats tab above.) I’m still not sure that I love Luna the way I do Row Bird, but she holds promise for adventure, for meeting new people, for experiencing the water in new ways- and that gives me hope.