I Finally Got In

I’m standing over the bilge of a 1990 Ericson sailboat, and it still doesn’t feel real. A week ago this was just another listing, a risk, a maybe. Today, it’s mine. I have the keys, the paperwork, the survey tucked under my arm—and a boat that’s about to change my life.

For months I kept telling myself, “One more listing. One more walk-through. The right boat is out there.” Every boat had a catch. Too expensive. Too neglected. Too sketchy. Too many unknowns. You can only hear “needs a little TLC” so many times before you start laughing at the phrase.

But then this one hit me differently.

An Ericson 32-200. Bruce King design. Deep keel. Solid hull. Brand-new standing rigging. An actual offshore-capable platform with bones built for the long haul. Not perfect—no boat is—but honest. The kind of boat that makes you want to grab your gear and just go.

When I stepped aboard for the first time, it already felt familiar. The worn teak. The faded cushions. The fingerprint smudges on the companionway. All little reminders that this boat has lived a life already… and now it’s waiting for me to take it the rest of the way.

Yeah, the survey flagged a cracked rudder, a tired exhaust elbow, some stiff engine cables, and a to-do list long enough to make any sane person pause. But none of it scared me. If anything, it energized me. Boats don’t need to be flawless—they just need to be fundamentally sound. And this one is.

Today, I opened the hatch, took a breath of that mix of salt, diesel, and 35 years of stories, and said out loud:

“Alright. Let’s begin.”

This boat is more than fiberglass and rigging. It’s my doorway into the next chapter—sailing, offshore training, late nights at anchor, early-morning departures, and one day, crossing blue water toward Hawaii.

I’m in now. Really in.

Let the rebuild begin. Let the stories start stacking.

Let the dream become the new normal.

If you’re reading this, welcome aboard. This is day one.