Saguday
Well-Known Member
I mean, no heeling, swaying, getting drenched in spray and all that stuff. SWMBO and I went on the Broadblue 385 at LIBS, the first time we've ever been on board a cruising catamaran. Ever. Now, I have to be honest and say the reason we went on board was to satisfy our 5 year old son, who has been obsessed with catamarans ever since we passed umpteen Lagoons during our cruise up and down the US East Coast last year (it has to be a cruising cat for him, not yer basic Hobie or Dart) . We wanted to get some nice brochures and pics for him to look at and draw. Nonetheless we stayed on board for about half an hour. You can't help but be impressed by all that space - like having 2 narrowboats joined together by your living room. The family gets a hull each - domineering parents to port, oppressed offspring to starboard. And all those arguments about flat, steady sailing, easy-peasy, no panic, even leave the wine glasses and pot plants out on the table as you beat gently into the F6 gusting 7. And so much boat, storage space, deck space, and all for such a "relatively" modest outlay.
And yet, and yet...
I thought SWMBO would fall for it, that we'd have to plan to put our beloved IP up for sale and buy this floating flat. But she didn't. And I dunno why not, what it was that didn't quite click... Logically it all makes sense. Rationally the arguments are irrefutable. Economically, pound/sq.m, it can't be beat. Living aboard? it's the only way to go. But somehow we couldn't quite connect with it emotionally, couldn't quite get that gut-level yes! this is it! flush that we got as soon as we stepped on the boat we bought last year. We're not hairy, bearded balls-out trans-ocean hero-types but I did wonder whether perhaps we have a masochistic need for at least some level of discomfort to remind us when we're in a hostile environment.
Have we missed something? Would it all change if we actually sailed one, I wonder? Dare we cave in to temptation?
James? Talbot?
Neil
And yet, and yet...
I thought SWMBO would fall for it, that we'd have to plan to put our beloved IP up for sale and buy this floating flat. But she didn't. And I dunno why not, what it was that didn't quite click... Logically it all makes sense. Rationally the arguments are irrefutable. Economically, pound/sq.m, it can't be beat. Living aboard? it's the only way to go. But somehow we couldn't quite connect with it emotionally, couldn't quite get that gut-level yes! this is it! flush that we got as soon as we stepped on the boat we bought last year. We're not hairy, bearded balls-out trans-ocean hero-types but I did wonder whether perhaps we have a masochistic need for at least some level of discomfort to remind us when we're in a hostile environment.
Have we missed something? Would it all change if we actually sailed one, I wonder? Dare we cave in to temptation?
James? Talbot?
Neil