Back in 2012, Your Survival Guy was in the market for a power boat. It was after my weekly pilates class that I told my instructor I was looking, and she said to give Skip a call. I did, and that’s how I learned how to buy a boat. You can read that series here:

Lately, especially after attending the Newport Boat Show this month, I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to have a small cabin or a pilot house to a) get out of the weather and b) perhaps spend the night. Careful what you wish for, Survival Guy, I say to myself, knowing all too well it’s not for the faint of heart getting involved in this sunk cost endeavor.

As one of you reminded me recently, it’s hard to fight off getting another 3-feet or “three-feetitis” and if there was such a thing as a perfect boat, everyone would own it.

The way our journey began, buying a power boat years ago, was because I grew up sailing. You never quite get over that feeling of “when are we going to get there?” Yes, I miss sailing, but at times my joints can feel like a creaking deck. I don’t miss the work. After a day of sailing, you can be exhausted, and grabbing a mooring at your one particular harbor simply means the next stage of tucking her in for the night has begun.

And that’s how we ended up with a center console, which got hit by lightning a few years ago and was replaced with the same model, just a newer version, a Grady White Canyon 306. It’s the simplicity of it all, something Dick Young has written to you for decades, that makes it an almost perfect boat. There’s wisdom in KISS.

Action Line: Packing a cooler, grabbing the keys, and heading to the slip is pretty simple. Don’t let the complicated stuff keep you on land. When you’re ready to begin your cruise, let me know by emailing me at ejsmith@yoursurvivalguy.com.

Originally posted on Your Survival Guy.