October 14, 2006
Recycling at its Finest
View from above with lobster boat
At least fifteen years ago, I happened upon a boat with a little motor at a yard sale which I purchased for a pittance with the romantic idea of family floating and fishing on the bay. After somehow hauling it home, I discovered that the boat was fourteen feet long, and thus required a license.
In order to obtain a license, one must, on a yearly basis, I might add, go into downtown Boston, find a parking place, locate the boat licensing office, and purchase the license.
There was the added problem of leaving a fourteen foot boat in a place that would be convenient for launching. It's illegal to leave any vessel over ten feet on the beach. And so, the boat was tidily stored in the basement at the cottage, the engine winterized and clamped to a barrel. It has only been a small incovenience to climb over it to use the washing machine for the past fifteen years.
This summer, inspired by offspring, who undoubtedly were anticipating purging the estate upon my death, we dragged the boat up from the dungeon. I wanted to put it out front with a "FREE" sign on it, but decided to be sensible and look up fourteen foot fiberglass boats with engines in the WantAdvertiser before giving it away foolishly, like I once had with a Gibson banjo (scroll down for prices). I found one or two equivalent boats in the ads for about $350. So I made a sign
The fellow who was renting the house next door saw the sign and said that, in the Capital region of upstate New York, from whence he hailed, a boat like that would go for at least $1200. Thus fueled by greed, I changed the three in $350 to an eight, and placed the boat out front to be snatched up.
Not one person stopped to inquire in two weeks. I did begin to notice that there are hundreds of boats for sale, adrift in in coastal backyards, each with a fading little cardboard sign.
As the summer passed, the boat began to fill with rain and leaves, and I was so enjoying the clear path to the washing machine that I was unwilling to drag it back into the basement.
My lobsterman neighbor dropped by, and offered to find out if the damn thing was worth anything from the harbormaster and the boating websites -- Result: $100. When asked, my neighbor felt that he could put the boat to good use, and I took the opportunity to bestow it upon him as a gift. He said he'd make it up to me in lobsters. Yum.
It turned out to be a really great gift to myself. Not only did I create space (a missing element in my life), but the boat has become a daily source of illuminated light at dawn on the bluff, which I appreciate enthusiastically, and shoot often. And that, my friends, is priceless.
Photo note: See above
Posted by Dakota at October 14, 2006 12:43 PM