'Careful What You Wish For'
After Four Years in a Bigger Fishing Boat,
The Cullens Are Ready to Abandon Ship
March 2, 2006
Gerry and I came to a hard decision this week about our favorite hobby -- boating.
Four years ago, we traded in our ancient 18-foot Thunderbird powerboat for a year-old 27-foot Trophy Bayliner fishing boat. The Bayliner's previous owner -- who clearly had money to burn -- had spent thousands customizing it and tricking it out with the latest in fishing technology, but said after a season he ultimately found it too small to suit his taste. (He'd already shown us around the 50-foot boat he'd bought as a replacement.) The owner was eager to unload the Bayliner before the start of the new season. After some haggling he agreed to sell it to us for $40,000, which we paid with money we'd been saving for years in our joint account in anticipation of buying a new boat.
The Bayliner was a steal: At the time, similarly equipped models in good condition were going for nearly $80,000. And it's held its value: A quick search of the NADA Guides' used-boat valuations shows our boat's worth about $52,250 today.
Gerry's a die-hard fisherman, and when we bought the Bayliner I thought he'd died and gone to heaven. My husband's been crazy about boats since he bought the Thunderbird for $2,000 back in 1989. It was completely stripped down to the fiberglass, and he spent years restoring it. We met a year after he bought the Thunderbird, and since then have spent most of our summer weekends and vacation time on the water -- fishing, swimming, water-skiing and just relaxing on the bay and ocean near our Jersey Shore home.
But after our son Gerald was born in 1999, we both realized we'd outgrown the Thunderbird. It was cramped and shallow, and lacked guard rails to keep a young child from falling overboard. It also had no bathroom facilities, which I'd groused about for years. Gerry and I also hoped a cabin would allow Gerald to nap during the day or night, giving us some precious time for ourselves.
So we decided to upgrade, and after searching online for a few hours I discovered the listing for the Bayliner. We felt it was a perfect match: I loved the decent-sized cabin with a small bed, sink and head, while Gerry was thrilled with its hard top, automatic steering, refrigerator and myriad electronic bling. It even had comfortable bench seating and a bimini cover for protection from the sun -- something Gerry's hard-core fishermen buddies would mock whenever they'd catch me lounging under it. (Apparently, if you're not standing around sunburned, you're not fishing.) My husband carefully examined the boat, searching for imperfections, and found few. Happy with the Bayliner and the price, we drove home with it the next day.
The first season with the bigger boat was shaky. Gerry had never operated a boat so large: The pulpit on the bow and the swimming platform on the stern increased the boat's overall length to nearly 30 feet. Getting a feel for the boat at all speeds was sometimes nerve-wracking, and there were a few days I feared we might tip over. I was nervous whenever Gerry asked me to take the wheel, as I used to do confidently with the smaller boat. We also had a toddler on board -- Gerald was three when we introduced him to boating -- which led to a lot of stumbling, tears and bruises. But over the years, our family gained our sea legs and began to enjoy the bigger boat. Gerald has taken so naturally to fishing that he often brings home the day's trophy fish while the rest of us are skunked. Plus, its larger size allowed us to invite more friends and family to join us on our outings, and Gerry loved showing off his prized possession.
Which is why I was shocked in January when he suggested we sell it.
Everyone knows the old saw about a boat being a hole in the water you throw money into, and ours was no exception -- we'd just bought a bigger hole. Winterizing, storage and replacement parts run us at least $250 more a year than the expenses for our little runabout, which rarely cost us more than $100 a season, by Gerry's rough estimate. The Thunderbird hadn't been worth enough to insure, but it costs $500 a year to insure the Bayliner -- $100 less than the price of insuring our home and all of its contents. And I still shudder when I think of last season's final gas-tank fill-up, which topped out at $300.
The marina where we'd kept the Thunderbird was inexpensive because it was very small -- too small for us to keep the Bayliner. So we upgraded to a larger marina with more-accessible slips, at a far greater cost. We'd been paying $1,400 ($80 a foot) per season for a slip for the Thunderbird, but the Bayliner cost $100 a foot, for a price tag of about $3,000 per season. (Keep it in perspective, people: The total annual costs of maintaining the Bayliner are comparable to a one-week vacation at a luxury hotel in Hawaii -- and we get to enjoy our boat all season.)
Last year, the marina was sold to a new owner who jacked up the cost to $125 a foot, which proved to be the breaking point for Gerry. Getting the renewal contract from the marina was when he first raised the idea of downsizing the boat.
Since then, though, I've discovered that out-of-pocket costs aren't the main reason Gerry wants to sell. He's simply exhausted from the stress he finds himself under when managing a boat that size with a bunch of landlubbing family and friends on board. He's complained at times that he can't relax on the boat unless it's just us, because he feels responsible for handling everything -- untangling reels, rethreading fishing-pole lines, baiting hooks, watching the water for drunk drivers and other unexpected dangers. Over the years, he's had a few frightening near-misses on the boat after asking an inexperienced family member or friend to keep an eye out for signs of danger -- tankers in the shipping channel, reckless teens on jet skis, our son Gerald clowning around and accidentally falling overboard -- while Gerry was busy for a moment in the cabin.
In short, Gerry feels like he's on a party boat, but he's not invited.
At first I felt guilty and offered to do more when we're on the boat, but I know my husband would suffer that for only a few days before going back to his old ways. On the boat, Gerry needs to be in control.
Though I'm a little disappointed -- our Bayliner is comfortable, and something smaller is likely to be less so -- I can see it's the right choice for us. The cost of maintaining the craft has become burdensome and Gerry has experienced first-hand the old adage to "be careful what you wish for." Now he wants to do something about it before the beginning of what would be another stressful season for him. As for Gerald, he was sad to hear we'd be selling our boat -- he loves to draw pictures of us on it and of many of the interesting fish we've seen while on it. Gerry took him to a local boat show last weekend, allowing our son to feel he has some say in the type of boat we choose next.
Also, switching to a smaller boat now makes sense since we're planning extensive home renovations. Freeing up our cash flow will allow us to borrow less to fund the improvements. (Triple play: There's a good possibility we'll get as much or more for the boat than we actually paid for it four years ago -- a rarity in the boat business.)
So the search is on for a smaller boat. I'll keep you updated on our progress.
美梦成真固然好 脱离实际就不美
本周，格里(Gerry)和我就我俩共同的海钓嗜好作出了一项艰难的决定。
四年前，我们将自己陈旧的、18英尺长的Thunderbird动力艇折价，换购了一艘只有1年船龄、27英尺长的Trophy Bayliner游艇式渔船。Bayliner的前主人显然钱多得花不完，光是改装就花了几千美元，还配备了最新的钓鱼设备。但他说用了一季之后，就觉得船太小了，不合他的胃口。他向我们展示了他新买的一艘50英尺左右的游艇，正急著在新的渔季开始前卖掉旧船。一番讨价还价之后，他同意4万美元卖给我们。这可是我们俩为买一艘新船辛辛苦苦攒了好几年的钱。
这艘Bayliner便宜得让人不敢相信：当时，类似装备、状况良好的船只大约需要8万美元。这艘船的保值状况也不错：如果搜索一下NADA Guides的二手船估价，可以看到这艘船如今值52,250美元。
格里是个狂热的钓鱼爱好者，买到那艘Bayliner的时候，我觉得他都要开心死了。自从1989年花2,000美元买了那艘Thunderbird之后，他就一直疑迷其中。Thunderbird的船况很差，他每年都要修修补补。我们是在他买下那艘Thunderbird之后一年相遇的，此后的夏季周末和假期绝大部分时间我们都是在水上度过的：钓鱼、游泳、滑水，或者就在家附近的海湾和海面上偷得半日闲。
但1999年我们的儿子杰拉尔德(Gerald)出生后，我们就知道该卖掉Thunderbird了。船体狭小不说，还没有防护围栏，小孩很容易就会掉到水里。船上也没有漱洗设施，这我都抱怨好几年了。再说，我们都想有个带舱室的船，能让杰拉尔德在白天或晚上小睡一觉，我们也好有个难得的二人世界。
所以我们决定升级。在网上搜了几个小时之后，我发现了这艘Bayliner，简直再合适不过了：我喜欢宽敞的船舱，可以放下一张小床，还有水槽和厕所。格里看中了坚固的桅盘、自动舵机、冰箱以及众多的电子设备。船上甚至还有舒适的长凳和遮阳蓬──每次我拉起遮阳蓬躺在长椅上都会被格里那些铁杆渔友嘲笑。显然，他们认为，如果没有被晒黑，就根本就谈不上钓什么鱼。格里很仔细地检查了Bayliner，几乎找出什么不满意的地方。我们对这条船和它的价格都太满意了，第二天就欢欢喜喜地开车把它运回了家。
开上它出海的第一季并不那么顺当。格里从没开过这么大的船：船首的安全栏和船尾的游泳跳台让Bayliner的总长延伸到了近30英尺。行驶达到全速时，很让人感到胆战心惊，有几次我都担心会翻船。每次格里让我掌舵，我都非常紧张，因为我开惯了原来那条小船。船上还有个学步儿童──我们第一次把杰拉尔德带上船的时候，他只有3岁──无数次地摔倒、哭泣，很多的伤痕。但慢慢过了这些年，我们也适应了，开始享受在这条大船上的时光了。自然而然地，杰拉尔德也就喜欢上了钓鱼，一天结束后总是欢欢喜喜地带著他的战利品回家。此外，船大些也方便我们邀请亲朋好友一同外出，格里很喜欢向别人展示他的宝贝船。
所以，今年1月份格里建议卖掉Bayliner的时候，我简直惊呆了。
谁都知道，老人们总说船是水上的无底洞。我们的船也不例外，况且我们还换了一个更大的洞。格里粗略估算下来，Bayliner每年维护过冬、存放和更换零配件的费用比原来那条小船的费用多了至少250美元，原来那条船每季的花费很少超过100美元。原来的Thunderbird根本不值得上保险，但现在的Bayliner每年保费就是500美元──比我们的房屋和财产险保费只低100美元。上一季给船加油的费用更是超出了300美元，想来就让我心疼。
为Thunderbird准备的船坞很便宜，因为它很小，但因为小也就容不下Bayliner。我们只好以高出很多的价钱租了一个大的船坞。以前，我们每季需付1,400美元（80美元/英尺）为Thunderbird租船坞；但Bayliner却需要100美元/英尺，每季大约3,000美元。Bayliner每年的开支都可以去夏威夷的豪华酒店里度假一周了。
去年船坞被转手后，新主人开出的租价是125美元/英尺，这超过了格里的承受限度。续签了船坞租约后，他第一次提出要换条小船的想法。
但那以后，我发现格里想卖船的主要原因并非开支增加，而是压力太大：驾驶和管理这么大一条船，以及招待一帮毫无开船经验的亲戚朋友，让他累坏了。他抱怨过好几次，在船上根本没法放松，除非只有我们俩。他要负责所有事情──打开线轴、给钓鱼竿重新穿线、放鱼饵、紧盯著水面以防有人醉酒驾船，还有各种意外危险。这几年，有几次他忙不过来的时候，请一位不会开船的亲戚或朋友帮著留心是否有危险（航道上的油轮、鲁莽的滑水少年，还有我们步伐蹒跚的儿子）时，都差点出了事。
简而言之，格里觉得他站在一艘欢宴大船上，却被排除在外。
刚了解到这一点时，我很内疚，就主动帮他干点什么。但这也让他不自在，没过几天就又一切照旧了──在船上，格里需要掌握一切。
虽然我有点儿失望──Bayliner很舒适，小了恐怕就没这么舒服了──但能看出这对我们来说是正确的选择。维护费用成了负担，格里第一次亲身体会了“梦想要切合实际”这句格言的含义。现在他想赶在又一个压力重重的季节开始之前做点什么。杰拉尔德呢，听我们说要卖掉这艘船他很难过──他喜欢画我们在船上的样子，还有我们在船上时见到的各种有趣的鱼。上周末，格里带杰拉尔德去了一个船市，让他觉得自己在选择下条船的时候也有点发言权。
再者说，换条小船现在对我们也很有好处，我们正准备翻新居室装修。换船省下一些钱能让我们为装修少借点儿钱。（三赢：很有可能我们卖船所得会等于甚至高于四年前买船的价钱，这在二手船的交易中很少见。）
