Coming out of hibernation

A sight for sore eyes. The view from Constitution Marina is a lot better when you aren’t trying to see it through shrinkwrap. Photo by Ali Wisch Fabre

May 2022

By Ali Wisch Fabre

It’s that time of year again… finally; when the sky is providing us with more sun than snow, people are removing their shrinkwrap, and like my neighbor, Larry, exclaimed to me yesterday – “she feels like a boat again!”

Selective memory is a funny thing. While I wasn’t here for the entire winter, the parts I was here for were rough. Returning in March, I got a little anxious when I saw snow on the ground as I was flying into Logan, and then had the equivalent of a nervous breakdown when I realized it was six degrees outside and my un-shrinkwrapped boat was covered in mold. It’s interesting how our brains can trick us (or at least me) into completely forgetting how frigid it can get in the northeast, as far as into April (I slept with my space heater on high last night) – even though I’ve been living on a boat here for over ten years.

That said, without the bad, we wouldn’t appreciate the good quite as much, and I’m sure enjoying the sun shining right now, the sounds of power drills and circular saws welcoming our boats to the warmer weather and people chatting on the docks.

With the barriers of shrinkwrap, COVID and unbearable cold, it was tough to spend time with, or even meet, your boat neighbors this winter. For the first time last night, I finally met the person, Mike, who had been living on the boat across from me for the past six months. We struck up a conversation about… ironically enough, striking up a conversation in person, which I hope can happen more often now (safety precautions in mind).

Luckily, whether you’re sailing, boating, or fishing (our Fishing Reports are back!), these are hobbies and sports that can be done relatively safely since most of the time you are out on your boat, you’re social distancing by default.

So, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to spend the rest of the week breaking out my logbook and my Eldridge, which Dave Roper describes so eloquently in his column “The boaters’ bible,” page 12; reorganizing and de-rusting my tools; going through my boat budget, crying about it, and then accepting it and adding more things to the list. And who am I kidding? I will also wash the boat, clean my dock box, go through every lazarette, compartment, and cabinet and rip out the insulation that I put in the boat with so much joy, removing it with equally as much pleasure. It’s that time of year again, folks! Let’s enjoy every moment.