Last summer's cruise was to be our eighth to Maine. Somehow we had lost our enthusiasm for the summer sailing season during the very rainy spring. We also got weary just thinking about the cruise preparations. But we were committed to our three weeks and forced ourselves to get organized .

We had semi-retired our sailing dinghy, Toy Boat, and moved up to the big time ­ an inflatable! One of the first tasks was to inflate the dinghy, try out the new used engine, and be ready to take off on the appointed day.

Anyone doing anything at our club gets lots of free advice. Folks line up on the club porch watching every move you make. Wonder of wonders and after great advice from The Experienced Ones, the dinghy was easily inflated, the engine attached and it all worked ­ hallelujah!

But wait. Just when you think everything is going smoothly, Rule 1­ the old 80/75 ­ rears its ugly head. As the captain prepared to attach the engine to the mount, Murphy's Law materialized: The mount was about 2 inches too small, and we were supposed to leave the next day.

We tried to buy a mount at one of the local boating suppliers only to find no one carried the larger ones. Our good friend Tom, who can fix almost anything and always has spare parts neatly organized on his boat (alphabetically and by color), came to our rescue. Overnight he fashioned a suitable board for us from a piece of leftover mahogany. The captain affixed the board to the existing mount, and we were golden. The new crane we purchased to lift the engine overboard worked very well, once again with advice from Tom and the Porch Crew. Now we were starting to get psyched for the 2002 cruise!

Provisioning for the cruise is always challenging. The first mates we cruise with conspired long ago to eat on board on the way up, and eat out on the way back. The captains concurred because they know the alternative ­ mutiny, which loosely translated means "Cook it yourself!" I made my annual trek to my favorite butcher who sealed my chosen meats in marinade.  (I put them on ice and they have always lasted two or three weeks.)

Aha ­ that pesky 80/75 rule! The icebox ­ I have called it many things. My husband did a marvelous job of reinsulating it last year, and we purchased one of those ice blankets. Both things have worked out fairly well. But I obsess over ice. I buy it every chance I get. I'd give up a shower to get ice. I freak out when stuff starts floating in the icebox because of the Big Meltdown. I yearn for my Maytag at home. I covet others' coolness and their ice cubes. I have friends who smugly tell me that at the end of the cruise they still have the same ice they started with. I call them the same things I call the icebox.

The rest of the stuff is pretty straightforward ­ enough chocolate chip cookies for my husband, 5-pound bags of M&M's hidden in the boat, the Bailey's for Irish Coffee, the requisite beverages of choice, cashews, Twizzlers ­ all the critical staples for a three-week cruise. We try to remember that we will not be on a deserted island, that we will probably be in a port every other day, and that there are stores available for fresh veggies, bread, milk and more M&M's.

Okay, all the provisions were ready to go on the boat. With summers off, there were no excuses about not getting the stuff on board. At the club, I grabbed the handy-dandy cart and, well, this is where Rule 2 came in ­ Cruising Ain't for Sissies.

It was dead low tide. As I approached the ramp with my fully and foolishly loaded cart I was looking at an almost 90-degree slope. Oh, I'm strong, I told myself. I can do this. Bad decision

Two feet into the slope I had a very clear vision: the Bailey's, the M&M's, the meat all in the drink with me on top. I decided I'd pull it up. I think I can, I think I can ­ no, I couldn't. I feebly and embarrassingly yelled for help and my fellow club member, Weldon, gave me a hand.

The weather wasn't conducive to heading out on schedule, so we headed for Maine two days and two movies later. I reflected a lot about my ice now and getting some more before we actually started The Cruise. We arrived in Biddeford 12 hours later, gassed up and bought  more you-know-what. We were cruising now ­ really. Everything was going along pretty well.

Not actually ­ 80/75 again. Trouble with battery No. 2 ­ no charge. In Belfast (Isn't it the best? The most helpful harbormaster, Kathy Messier, and those darling little bears) we went to a boatyard where they gladly sold us the battery and a nice Belfastian delivered it to the dock. We thought we were set. Not so fast, optimistic ones. The new battery wasn't charging. We were assured that it would charge after we motored a bit.

Well, it certainly wasn't the worst thing in the world that we spent our evenings in the dark. After 8:30 p.m. each night, we were reduced to our lantern on one wall and every candle I had with me ­ Santa Claus candles, floating candles, smelly candles, Halloween candles, anything ­ a regular floating New England candle shop! Good thing we didn't pack a smoke alarm! It was pretty difficult playing our regular board games because our noses kept hitting the table as we tried to see what we were playing. But we had the wildest seances ever.

The balance of the cruise was fun and without incident. We reconnected with friends, and tried to spend time outside and on boats and land where there was light, grab ice where we could and stay out of the fog. That equates to a successful cruise, in my estimation. It occurred to me that living the "simple life" on a boat is not easy.

Rule 2: Cruising ain't for Sissies. It entails a lot of preparation to live simply. My goodness, would it have been easier to stay home with the Maytag? After arriving back from the cruise, further investigation revealed that the alternator was the culprit and that's why the battery wasn't charging. Great news ­ lights next year!

Cleaning the boat after the cruise and putting it away for the winter, we tended to forget the inconveniences. Now preparations for this year's cruise don't seem so overwhelming. I will be thinking of new and clever ways to maintain and store ice and be the envy of our fleet. I will be The Ice Queen! I too, will bring home the ice cube that I started with.

Valerie Wellman lives in Stoneham, Mass.