Sailing

My first brilliant solution to the boat numbering problem was of course using the self-stick numbers from Home Depot. These did stick to the inflatable PVC hull, but inspired no confidence as the corners peeled off immediately.



After some research, I figured that I need to paint the numbers on. I ordered stencils, made a template with stencils, tape and old newspapers, and sprayed white Krylon Fusion onto the boat. This is a surprisingly time-consuming process - making the template to look straight in the first place can take a while, then masking and taping, and more masking.... and in the end, you still wind up with overspray everywhere because the letters weren't absolutely flush with the boat. Now you need to use acetone to clean up the cloudy edges, which also takes forever and goes through paper towels very quickly.

The real surprise comes in a few days - when you realize that the paint isn't drying. It's still sticky - scotch tape sticky. So I called Krylon, and they confirmed that the paint will only work on rigid PVC. Thanks, Krylon, all of my spray paint works on rigid PVC.

At this point there is nothing else left to try but that which you should have spent your money on in the first place - boatnumberplate.com .... live and learn.

The logic for taking this course flows somewhat like this:

Boat over 12' long? Then register it and take the course. Plan to put a motor on it? Then register it and take the course.

I found a locally taught $75 course from Boat Safe US, and it turned out not to be a complete waste of time (other than saving me $500 in fines should I ever get checked). While I already knew or inferred a great deal of the material, the unambiguous driving rules and various other bits of info were helpful. Our instructor was coaching us for the entire 8 hours to pass the test - he basically gave away all the exam questions, so it was hardly a surprise that most people got a perfect score.

Now I can legally drive just about anything that isn't commercially registered - a 60' yacht if I wanted to. But that isn't what I'm driving. I'm driving an inflatable raft. Fortunately, that's also legal.

After our Sinking in the Navesink adventure which is covered in an earlier entry, me and my passenger reached a spontaneous and hesitation-free decision. Something about rowing a sagging craft a midst a cloud of gnats makes one wish for a backup plan, and this plan involves powered propulsion, and by powered I don't mean human-powered. It took some pondering to decide whether I wanted electricity or gasoline as my main power source, but ultimately gas won due to the particular appeal of exhaust fumes, noise, and the inability to use it in restricted waters. Or was it the range? I suppose it must have been the range. Doubling your range with electric means another 50lb+ battery which costs another $170+, and will probably last a few years before it wears out. Doubling the range with gas means a couple of pounds of gasoline in a little red plastic container.

When I research my options I try to break them down into categories, and thus I searched far, then wide, then both, until I narrowed my choices to the following three:

1. New Name Brand
2. Used Name Brand
3. New Chinese Wonder (no name)

My wife took care of blacklisting the no-name category altogether, based on some interesting past experiences. I don't have a problem with off-brands, but try as I might I couldn't find a source of replacement parts for any brands I considered, so to her surprise I came to agree with her opinion. Most forum discussions seem to agree here as well (often for unscientific reasons like "Buy American"), and while I often get a bit concerned when too many people agree with me, I felt that the decision was justified regardless of motives.

The choice between the remaining categories was simple. I felt that spending $1400 on a new motor was a bit excessive, seeing as how the whole boat thus far has cost about that much. As for used, June is not the ideal time for shopping - supply is running out, demand is high, and unsurprisingly the prices go up. Fortunately outboards hold their value remarkably well and thus I can probably get my money back. After some craigslist hunting I found the perfect motor: A Mariner 4M 2 stroke. The boat can take a 10 hp 2 stroke but I don't want to carry anywhere near that much weight. The little Mariners seem to be very well liked, and after a bit of failed negotiating I had it for a spring-time price of $375. It ran great but showed signs of poor cooling flow, and so of course I wound up pulling it apart.

Seeing as how my understanding of our legal system boils down to "Claiming that I didn't know won't get me off the hook", I decided to read up on boating regulations "just in case". My boating equipment consists of an inflatable raft and a clip-on sail kit, but something told me that putting one red pool float into the water may not be entirely without cost. As it turned out, I was right. The New Jersey Boating Safety Manual attempts to decipher the complex set of laws surrounding boat approval using a full-page dummy-compatible flowchart. According to this diagram I must register and title my boat for two reasons: It is over 12 feet long, and I plan to put a motor on it. (It also tells me that I must enroll in an 8 hour safety course, which I hope to take next weekend).



Regardless of how funny I may find the idea of going to the DMV to register a pool toy, I'd rather keep my dreams free of the haunting face of the Angry and Disapproving Boat Police man. I've never actually met a Boat Police man, but something tells me that his gaze will be both Angry and Disapproving, while the stares of the passing vessel operators are likely to be Curious and Condescending, as they on-look from the regal safety of their properly registered non-pool-floats. Thus I gathered my documents and my pride, and went out to the place they call the Department of Moro... (I try to forget how that acronym goes).