Trinidad has a vibrant yachting community, located primarily in the town of Chaguaramas, on the northwest corner of the island. And while there are definitely yacht owners who have their million-dollar yachts as merely a recreational vehicle to play with when they're not in their million-dollar homes, many of the "yachties" actually live on their boats year-round.
A couple of weeks ago my husband Marcus and I had an opportunity to visit the home of one of these yachties. The owner was actually a boat-builder: he'd purchased the vessel at a rock bottom price from an insurance company, because the two-year-old boat had been severely damaged in a hurricane, and the company had foreclosed on the wreck. The new owner was in the process of refinishing it and restoring it to its original condition for reselling -- he would probably end up earning three times his original cost.
Marcus was beside himself. "Honey," he said excitedly. "Wouldn't this be great? I mean, look at this vessel. It's made entirely of teak. And that master bedroom is pretty cool -- look how much room there is! And Alex could sleep in that berth over there. We wouldn't need to buy a house -- we could buy this, instead!"
I looked at him like he was crazy. He was right -- the boat was beautiful -- but having grown up on the island, with friends who owned boats, I knew how much work they were. And while the thought of yachting down the islands is certainly appealing, I was fully aware that it wasn't necessarily as luxurious as you might initially think. There's maintenance. And lack of space. And more importantly, lack of basic conveniences.
I turned to the boat-owner's wife, who had been watching this exchange with her arms folded.
"Where's the bathroom?" I asked.
"It's there," she pointed to a closet door. "But when we're on land like this, we're not plumbed into water. So while on land, you'd have to go to the bathroom in the building across the walk, there."
"And to shower?"
"The same," she said, a slow, understanding smile spreading across her face. "There are public showers in that building."
I looked at Marcus. "PUBLIC showers," I repeated, doing my best to bore a hole in his forehead with my eyes.
"Yes," the boatsman's wife responded gleely. "So at night, if I have to go to the bathroom, I have to climb out of the boat, down those two precarious ladders, and then across the parking lot to the bathroom."
Marcus' face fell. He looked at the boatsman. "Well, it looks like we're not going to even consider it," he said dejectedly.
He knows me so well.
Ahh thats sad.. everybody aught to have their boat dreams become true.
Posted by: K Thomas | August 01, 2007 at 04:53 PM