|The Pursuit of Perfection: A Clean CARO|
What a weekend. I should strive for a more poetic way to put this: detailing a boat really sucks. Partway into Sunday morning, I wondered whether my stuffy nose, itchy eyes, sore throat, and muscle soreness was due to spring allergies, dehydration, or noxious chemical inhalation. Maybe ‘D’ – all of the above!
This weekend was THE weekend. You know which one I’m talking about; the weekend that we boaters choose to scrub like we’ve never scrubbed before. I don’t know what exactly conspires during those winter months to make everything so damn dirty. Taking the shrink wrap off the boat every spring is akin to waking up next to the girl you took home last night after ten-too-many drinks: she looked a lot better in the dark.
But, all in all, I got lucky. The Long Island Sound was flatter than an iHop flapjack, and the weather could not have been brighter or more hopeful for an eternal summer. Once docked at my new homeport, though, the sweat shop labor began. Here are a few things that I learned this weekend:
- Don’t underestimate the value of a well-stocked pocket knife. Those extraneous tools really do come in handy.
- Don’t underestimate your propensity to irretrievably drop a well-stocked pocket knife into the water at the worst possible moment.
- Don’t blame your neighbors when they refuse to speak with you after the string of profanities that exits your voice box when you drop a well-stocked pocket knife into the water at the worst possible moment.
- Finally, although pocket knife has the word 'pocket' in it, don’t put items in your pockets when you’re working on a boat. It’s just a stupid idea. Trust me.
You know what else I learned? Things love to get dirty the moment after you clean them. I don’t know which boating gods were playing me this weekend, but it seemed like I’d clean a spot, move on to another spot, look back, and the whole thing was dirty again. What is up with that? Oh, and apparently insects like to land (and die) on clean fiberglass. Who knew? I love learning!
Anyway, after much ado, and with a body aching from endless hours of buffing motions, Caro is sparkling like a brand new boat. The great thing is that, as my new neighbor pointed out, I’ll get to do it all again next week after mother nature (and all her blessed, gentle little critters) have had their way with my shiny hull.
Think on the bright side: no one can ever accuse a boater of being anything but a clean freak. Only a freak would fight an insurmountable pursuit like this anyway!