In August of 2013 I found her. Anna Rita had been sitting on the hard for 3 years. She was hiding in a neglected part of an out-of-the-way boat yard. Down a path I called the Boulevard of Broken Dreams; a long row of boats in various stages of disrepair or abandonment. One day, I overheard some local sailors talking about an old boat for sale, I thought I should take a look. I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight. But she definitely had a certain appeal. Those sleek lines, large full keel and long overhangs that make her instantly recognizable as a classic. Just what I was looking for. She was rudderless and neglected and needed some work. But not so far gone that she couldn't be saved. If the engine started, and her rudder was simply in storage, this was the perfect boat for what I had in mind. I should talk a little about my history and what, exactly, I did have in mind.
I started sailing about 10 years prior with a friend who owned an older C&C 35. He took me sailing in the Apostle Islands on Lake Superior. We anchored out in a protected island bay. I fell in love with sailing instantly. I was fascinated by how everything worked, the nuance of sail trim, reading the wind off the waves, the satisfaction of a well-executed tack and the sound of gurgling water in our wake. I decided right then and there that this is what I wanted to do. Every chance I could get. Over the next 10 years I sailed with friends on little 22’ boats on little lakes, upgrading to 27’ boats on larger lakes and occasionally crewed for that wonderful 35’ C&C on Lake Superior. I graduated to chartering some larger boats with a friend and spent a lot of time up in the Apostle Islands getting to know the area, the people and the sailing culture they embraced.
I made every mistake I could. Well almost... I still had not made the mistake of owning my own boat.
As with most people who dream of days on the water under sail, I was convinced I wanted to sail around the world… or at least make a serious lifestyle change and sail around the Caribbean for a few years. I read everything Hal Roth had ever written. I was convinced that this dream was achievable. Over time, my wonderfully supportive girlfriend, Nicole, began to see it too. We talked of days spent out on the open water, nights at anchor and the hypothetical perils of heavy weather.
I was always shopping for a boat online or driving through marinas. Always on the lookout for that perfect boat for the right price (as close to free as possible). We are not rich. But I had a budget. I was saving. I could scrape together a few thousand dollars if I needed. But this dream was for a different class of people. The kind of blue water boat I had dreamed of was in the "over $40,000" price range… and that’s for a fixer-upper. And while I have hung some drywall and attached a water heater, I had never worked on a boat and wasn’t particularly handy. I had never even changed my own oil and didn't own a single power tool. But there she was. Covered in leaves and old painter’s tape from project’s long since abandoned. I had found her.
This had disaster written all over it.
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