<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>

Normal

0

MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

</xml><![endif]><![if !mso]>

<object

classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id=ieooui>

</object>

<style>

st1\:*

</style>

<![endif]-->

<!--[if gte mso 10]>

<style>

/* Style Definitions */

table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";}

</style>

<![endif]><![if gte mso 9]><xml>

</xml><![endif]><![if gte mso 9]><xml>

</xml><![endif]-->

Living in 25 Feet

While living in Panama City,

Florida.  I shared a large 4-bedroom, 2 bath house on

about 1/3 acre with a woman with whom I had a long-term relation ship.  When that relationship ended suddenly, I

decided to temporarily move onto my boat, a 25-foot Watkins.  In fact, I had often considered living on a

boat and had spent considerable time on this and other sailboats having done

several long-term deliveries to different places around the world.  The temporary soon became a year because I

found I liked it better than I had expected.

At the time, I had accumulated all the detritus normal to a

modern suburbanite.  I had two cars, two

computers, and a large pile of mementos, “treasures”, and other things that I

rarely saw and never used. 

To effect the move onto the boat, I used my van as a large

storage closet, hanging most of my clothes in the back and storing other things

underneath them and elsewhere in the van.

I needn’t have bothered as I never wore most of the clothes and

eventually sold or gave away almost everything else. 

The boat originally had a two-burner alcohol stove which I

had sold and replaced with a two-burner propane camp stove.  This was far more useful and actually cheaper

to use.  There was no refrigeration, but

there was a very well insulated ice box.

One ten-pound bad of ice would last several days even in the Panama

City summers.  A

nearby discount grocery sold these for 79 cents each and I never needed more

than two or three a week. 

Electric was included with my slip rent in the marina where

I kept the boat and a small electric heater was more than sufficient for the

cooler winter nights.  I think the slip

rent at time was under $200 a month so my expenses there were very low.  True, I did not have air conditioning, but

when living so close to the water, I found that a couple of fans kept the

interior very comfortable.  I wasn’t

inside that much during the daytime, so it was never a problem. 

My major source of income at the time was giving sailing

lessons, so I was often out on the water in the sea breezes every day so a/c

would not have been needed or even desirable.

I had reduced my other expenses to a minimum, too.  For example, my only phone was a cell phone

that I had a bargain price on because I signed with the cell company during a

major promotion.  From working for a

company that wrote software for cell companies, I learned how to negotiate low

rates even after the promotional period had ended.  This had the added advantage of being able to

stay connected to customers and friends even when away sailing as long as I was

within 15 miles or so of the shore.  If I

were out further, I didn’t want to be bothered anyway.

The largest single expense I had at the time was medical

insurance.  In retrospect, I could have

avoided a lot of that by availing myself of the various public health services,

but I liked the idea of having regular doctors more familiar with my medical

issues.  Even though I have been

remarkably healthy since then, I had suffered a stroke about 9 years before and

so was pretty cautious about medical care.

Perhaps the serious stress reduction of my new lifestyle contributed to

my improved physical condition.

I had reduced my computer ownership to one medium-sized

laptop that stowed very nicely on board in a secure cubbyhole away from

accidental water intrusion.  I kept my

small printer in the trunk of my car and only brought it on board when I

actually had something to print.  As this

didn’t often happen, the arrangement worked fine.

One of the things that I discovered that was very convenient

about living on board was that everything is close to hand.  If I were cooking, and I needed a utensil, it

was almost always within arm’s reach.  As

anyone that has even owned a boat can testify, a certain number of tools are

essential.  I had a lot of tools, and the

most commonly needed were already on board in a non-rusting toolbox.  Less-frequently-used items were kept locked

away in one of the vehicles.

As the months went by, I discovered I needed fewer and fewer

of the “essentials” I had accumulated over the years.  Each time I sold or gave away one of these,

my sense of freedom and “lightness of being” increased.  I came to realize that the concept that “less

is more” was certainly true.  Yes, you do

not really own your possessions, they own you because you spend more time

caring for them, worrying about them, and paying for them than they are ever

worth.

Now, I had no grass to mow, shrubbery to trim, or appliances

to maintain.  True, a boat requires a

level of maintenance, but no more than a house, just a different set of

chores.  Fortunately, most of these were

simple and easy.  In the warm waters of

Florida, algae grows too well during the summer months and so diving to brush

down the hull was required every two to three weeks in summer.  On a boat of that size, it might take as much

as an hour to do if I were not vigorous when doing it.  During the winter, in the colder water, I did

the same job in 30 minutes.  I would put

it off for longer, too.  It required a

definite “skirt” of weed to entice me into the water when the chill factor was

high.

There was also a definite sense of freedom in this

lifestyle.  With the Gulf of

Mexico only four dock lines away, I would often sail away for a

few days when I had no lessons scheduled.

I could do this on less than an hour’s notice unless I needed to stock

up on groceries.  Then it might take two

hours. 

I was also fortunate in not having a regular job so I didn’t

have to report to anyone or be in a particular place at a certain time every

day.  It was also nice to be able to work

in a “Five-S” uniform:  shirt, shoes,

shorts, sun screen, and sombrero.