That subject line will only make sense to a few boat-y people (and pocket cruiser nerds at that). Probably none of whom read my blog, but that’s okay. We’ve sold our Hunter in February thanks to a great broker who worked very hard, and now I’m looking for a new boat companion. For years I’ve been in love with Flickas, and I had a lead on a nice one. But then I found out that a Pacific Seacraft 25 was residing nearby, looking for a new home. Being such a fan of little bluewater tanks, I asked Greg if we could go visit, “just to see what one looks like”. Only 147 were ever made, I might not get to board one again.
You can guess how this turned out: I fell in love. That canoe stern, that grand hanging rudder that makes her look like a miniature Viking ship. There were no lines led aft (bless them). That round cockpit – everyone says “there isn’t enough room” in a double-ender, but they couldn’t be more wrong. That round cockpit just welcomes you. I couldn’t get enough of this boat. I still loved Flickas, but now I loved this boat, too, when I never thought I would. The cabin headroom is only 5’2″ and I am 5’9″. How could I be satisfied with that? How could Greg? The guy is 6’2″. To our surprise, it wasn’t an issue at all.
We made an offer, it was accepted, and I’ve spent the last two weeks swooning over photos of this boat, collecting photos of other PSC25s, and dreaming of all the places she and I would take our friends together.
Then came…..the survey. Many repairs came up, nearly all of which we weren’t anticipating. We talked about what to do. Do we ask the seller for a steep discount, and assuming it’s accepted, motor her straight to the boatyard and cross our fingers and throw ourselves on Neptune’s mercy?
While we were thinking about it, I decided to call up the owner of that Flicka nearby, who was still looking for her home. The owners were happy to meet with us today, and so Greg and I sent Finnegan and the puppy (oh that’s right, I haven’t introduced THE PUPPY!) to Grammy’s house and piled into the wagon and off we went. We had to take a ferry to visit this boat.
As we crossed the water, this is what we saw:
I waved my arms and squealed at Greg. “How can that not be a good sign!? This is clearly an omen that we’ve found our boat.” He laughed. He’s not superstitious the way I am, nor does he subscribe to omens. He’s a weird sailor. But, he’s letting me buy us a new boat, so I’m not going to argue.
We arrived (late! I am never late! thank goodness her owners were forgiving) at the marina, and there she was. A Flicka 20, stout as can be, sitting in the water, pulling impatiently on her lines, like she wondered why we were all packed so lightly for the trip she obviously meant to take us on. It was a small craft advisory warning, so we didn’t go for a test sail, but her owners let us hang out for over an hour. They told us to crawl all over the boat and investigate all the nooks and crannies while they left us alone to talk, and went off for a walk. Greg and I tried the v-berth, which was actually very comfortable – how is that possible in a twenty foot boat? He even tried the quarter berth, which would have been way too tight for me. He had to contort to get in there, but once he did, he said, “Oh, this could work. I could sleep here very nicely.”
It had tons of storage. It had a place for both of us to sleep comfortably. We could make a meal. We could walk around. There’s room on the foredeck to sit and read a book. There’s room in the cockpit for us and a couple of friends. She’s basically perfect.
After awhile they came back, and we talked. They showed us the “warts”, the things they’d been wanting to fix soon. They were so open and answered all our questions, even my curious ones about the outboard. I’m used to our old inboard diesel. He started it up for us, and we got to see the whole process, from priming the line (is that what you call it?) to flushing the engine at the end.
Finally we had to leave. I knew that I’d be walking away with a look of longing, but I was surprised to see Greg look back at her and then pause and take a good, long look. I laughed. “That’s how you know you’ve found the right one,” I said. “You don’t want to leave the dock.” It looks like Mr. Doesn’t Get Sentimental About Boats has found a boat he’s actually pretty excited about.
Now we just wait for the survey.