The Journey of a Boat

Taking that deep breath and knowing its time to let go of something is a life lesson we all face. It starts with letting go of your comfort blanket as a child or the teddy bear that can not be washed anymore. For me, it was letting go of the family boat. First owned by Grandfather, passed on to my Father and then at the age of 23 I became the proud owner of the family 25 foot T-craft. Being crowned as the captain mid-summer was bittersweet for me. I was being passed the keys because my father was dying from ALS and could no longer maintain the boat. At the age of 55 my father had to say goodbye to his life.

As I sat there that first day of spring, gazing at a boat that held so many memories of my life with my Dad I could not bear to even take the shrink wrap off. Everyday I would drive down to the boatyard with intentions of pulling off all the plastic and get started on cleaning but I always left in tears. I did not want to face looking at captain's chair without him sitting in it. After the second week of nice weather I knew I had to get the ball going with the boat. So I took that deep breath and carried on the tradition: tore every piece of shrink wrap off the boat, repainted every inch of the bottom and cleaned the inside leaving the captains chair untouched (I wanted it to still have that old spice smell) As the boat sat there in the marina slip just waiting for the sun to shine upon it, everything seemed to be in place on the outside but I was missing him dearly inside. The plan was to take my Father’s ashes out to sea that first trip of the year. And so the following weekend my Mom and I packed a bag to spend the day out on the boat. The drive down to the marina was quite yet peaceful. We had a mission, finally something to focus on other than the silence of my Dad being gone. All aboard we were ready to set sail! I took my position at the captains chair took that same deep breath and turned the key.

And to my surprise, the damn boat would not start! With an eye roll I jumped off the chair and started checking everything. I crossed checked everything making sure there was nothing I missed. I was pissed! So, I turned to the two gentlemen that were in the boat slip next to us to ask if they could take a look as well. (I hate asking guys for help…I can do it myself thank you very much). Of course, they could not see the problem either. Are you kidding me! Are you kidding me! As I sat there in the captain’s chair, starring at that wheel, tears building up with frustration I turned to my Mother. On the verge of a laugh and a cry…the two of us chose to laugh. Of course this would happen! There was NO way my Dad was going to just let us take him out there and go! He was not letting go of the boat yet and not letting go of us either! So that day and many more were spent only in the boat slip till the last day of summer.

I was always down at the boat; I would just sit there and read books or listen to the seagulls call. My last day hanging out there before pulling the boat out of the water to prepare for our Michigan winter I don’t know why but I thought I would try to start it one last time. Once again I sat myself down on my father’s captain chair; took a deep breath, I closed my eyes and turned the key. Only this time I was surrounded by the sound of the engine purring. This was my final goodbye to the water with my Dad. As I pulled out of the marina approaching the mouth of Lake Erie, I might have looked alone to passerbyers but I was far from that. I was taking one last journey on the water with my Dad.


My love for boating goes much deeper for me than any life could ever hold! I learned the love of the water through my father’s actions and I also hold the same passion of the freedom the water holds. His life reflects in me and carry him with me where ever I go.