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Many years ago, on an extended cross country trip in our RV, Bev and I made a stop in the Apostle Islands in upper Wisconsin. The area was so well received by us that we decided we would stay there for several weeks. One of our favorite activities while there was to walk the docks of the many marinas that dotted the area along Lake Superior. We both had always shared a love of sailboats and the lifestyle it offered but our lives just never seemed to go in that direction. For now, we were happy just poking around new areas of the country while on work sabbatical.
While dockwalking one evening, we happened across a large Jim Brown Searunner Trimaran in the marina yard. While admiring the vessel, its owner popped up on deck and greeted us. We couldn't help but to startup a conversation about the interesting sailboat configuration. He seemed downright happy to share specs, stats, stories and answer all our nooby questions about the boat and his plans. Bev and I were astounded to hear he had recently given his notice and was selling his home so he could take his wife and 4 cats to live on the Searunner off the coast of Mexico. "You can do that"?? Beverly looked at me while the whimsical wheels started turning. We ended up talking for hours with this polite and patient sailor and when we left him, we had been bitten by a bug, for which I have learned, there is no cure.
Beverly and I continued our trek across the northern portion of the US enjoying each others company and each new place that we visited. There was, however, this nagging little itch in the back of my mind that just had to be scratched. We found ourselves in local libraries of these little towns more and more often, slogging thru all things nautical until the library interent browsing time limit was reached. We even had to be thrown off once in a while. Our thirst for sailing knowledge could hardly be quenched.
After returning to Pennsylvania, I picked up a software position with a firm in MidTown Manhattan, and Bevelry went back to her Shaklee business. We had alot of saving to do if we were going to be able to afford a sailboat of our own. Each and every morning, I would show up early to work and research the type of boat we thought would fit our needs. Each and every day, my knowledge of sailing and cruising grew along with a new language that all sailors must speak. Gudgeon, halyard, rhode, beam reach and windlass were things I was becoming familiar with. I followed the adventures of those that had figured out what life was really all about like s/v DreamCatcher: and s/v Bumfuzzle:, admiring their zest for life and the ability to pursue a different type of American dream. I had spent countless mornings wondering where the Jim Brown Searunner was and whether that guy was also having his morning coffee in some exotic cove with a backdrop of palms and crystal clear water instead of a cubical wall. I ached to push aside the rat trap so many of us have come to know as a grim reality and be there amoung the palms too!
It took 2 years to find our boat. We had traveled thousands of miles and viewed many boats all along the East Coast until we stumbled across a "For Sale by Owner" listing in some noname corner of the internet. The owner of the vessel confirmed it was still for sale and that he no longer lived in the area but we were welcome to go take a look. That weekend, we packed a lunch and headed for Maryland.
"DogHouse" was tightly nestled in amoung her yard mates. At first glance, she didn't have the same sugar scooped aft end or polished stainless steel stanchions as her yard mates but she was the prettiest girl there. We crawled all over her and could see she was going to need some interior work but I was assured by the owner that the hull, deck and rigging were top notch. It took us no longer than 15 minutes before we made the decision that she needed to be ours. A quick phone call back to the owner, some minor haggling, a few more weeks and she was part of our family. We had her trucked up to her new home near Kingston NY on a scenic tributary of the Hudson River.
For the next few years, we visited with her on the weekends and together, Bev and I created a comfortable interior. The work was sometimes grueling but the results were very rewarding. On a sunny summer afternoon, we performed the renaming ceremony and christened her with an expensive bottle of champagne. "Bajamas". Okay, okay...I give in. It was the answer I gave to the question "Where would you like to find yourself on your last day alive". My response was "Sitting in the Bahamas in my Pajamas". 'Nuff said.
Feel free to contact Us via E-Mail: Scott and Bev
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