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 Part 1 – the idea Over at VolksCruiser, Bob Wise asked his readers what we would like  in a VC. Among the responses was Mimi P's alternative approach, Hermit  Crabbing. Michaela Popperton, the woman behind the netID, graciously  expands, here, on her comments.  The beauty of the HC  approach is that one can sample from the smorgasbord of possibility - both in  sailing grounds and types of vessel - without the heavy investments of time, money  and energy that a fully found vessel can consume. Yet one is much more  connected to one's time aboard than in, say, a bareboat charter. Such kits are  scalable, and can be personalized to many styles of cruising, ranging from open  beach cruiser to trade wind sled. Just find a shell! The following is her  lightly edited account, reformatted from our correspondence... 
 Bio I'm just about to turn  forty-four years of age, was born and raised in and around Toronto.  I  studied architecture in university but never pursued it beyond that, becoming  rather turned-off by the profession's narcissistic self-obsession - which is  pretty ironic seeing as I've ended up in the middle of all-things-yacht which  is about as self-absorbed as it gets.  I work in the marine  biz, so I have a sort of love-hate relationship with boats.  It's a career  that has afforded me some great opportunities to live in lands far-away, but it  also sometimes takes the fun out of doing something as simple as going sailing;  there are days when the last thing that I want to do is deal with another boat,  even if it is my own!  I'm shore bound for a while right now, so hopefully  that will help to rekindle the passion; to freshen the breeze, in a way.  I've sailed all my life,  raced much of it, and being a natural tinkerer I got involved in production  yacht building with the late PDQ  Yachts in  the late nineties.  I started on the shop floor fitting joinery into the  boats, but between having a pretty solid boating background and being pretty  bright I quickly moved into a role managing (ack...) the existing and  in-development sailboat lines, and eventually ended up in a role as the  president's right hand and acting as a sort of liaison between the engineering,  sales, and production departments.
 [I'm now] acting as  [...] liaison between a customer or marketing group, a designer, builders and a  boatyard.  The customers know what they want and the designer knows what  it should be - then I figure out how and what it will take to build it, and  then convey that to the hands in the yard.  It sounds pretty glamorous,  and sometimes it even is,  but it's mostly a lot of drudgery penning  specifications, populating bills of material, and schedule building.
 I've built on the  beaches in Thailand, in the furnaces of Taiwan, up the river in Argentina,  aside the Broads in the UK, down the Eastern Seaboard of the US, and most  recently in sunny, breezy Western Australia.  I took to living aboard  out of economy more than anything else.  I could afford to keep a home or  a boat, but trying to keep both was going to be a stretch, so I chose the  boat.  Doing the kind of work that I do, one or two or three years at a  time, demands that I be flexible, unencumbered, and mobile; this is reflected  in my hermit crab style of boating, and living.    The Hermit Crab Approach I've taken [...] a cue  from the hermit crab.  I have a small  collection of good "stuff" that I take with me from boat to boat as  my situation or locations change. Everywhere in the world I go there are  countless almost-retired hulls waiting shoreside for me to move in, and they  are generally of a type that suits well the local waters. It is easier, and  less expensive, to pack my kit in a crate and ship it across an ocean than it  is to forever keep a boat that has passage-making capability that is only  occasionally used to advantage.  Essentially, it's a  collection of decent and useful gear that I've collected over the years, some  of it purposefully bought and some of it scavenged, that lets me move onto just  about any boat in the 25 to 35 foot range without that boat  having to be already well fitted and maintained.  It allows me to use  (just about) any of the countless, long-forgotten hulls that litter the marinas  and yards all around the world.  I have been involved in the construction  of so many of them - an enabler, in a way - to the wastefulness.  It  bothers me, so I find some joy in giving them even a brief bit of care and  extended usefulness.  The Boats  None of them are going to  be up to making long passages, so I don't get too attached to them and happily  leave them behind when I need to move some place new.  Cost and effort to  restore or renew any of them would be highly unlikely to be recovered, so I  minimize my investment: easy-come, easy-go.  I actually put very  little effort into any of my own boats, because it's the sailing that I love  and not the boat; it's about the wind and the water, not the gadgets and  brightwork.  When it comes to  choosing a boat, I usually let the location do much of the deciding for me.   They never need to get me very far from where I already am, so those  qualities that make "great cruisers" don't necessarily need to be  paramount; it affords me quite a lot of flexibility and freedom.  The estuaries in the UK  really cried out for a shallow-bellied, tall-rigged bilge-keeler (which was  wood, and so full of rot that is sort of "oozed" over the waves!),  while in Fremantle I made the most of the perpetually-gorgeous sailing  conditions and picked up an older generation lightweight racer that wasn't  great to live on, but absolute bliss to sail.  In Toronto I had a C&C  Redwing 30 and a Niagara 30 at different times: very different boats, but both  had decent headroom which made winters bearable.  In Argentina I spent the  most out of any of them when I found an old German  Frers IOR warhorse and proceeded to regularly get it stuck in the mud.  It was  quite enjoyable to actually meet him at his home, and tell him the story ; )  I like boats that have  histories, and stories.  When they're shiny and new and washed everyday  they seem "silent" to me.  None of them have been over ten  thousand bucks to buy, and generally they have been around five or six. Reselling at the end is the  hard part and could take forever, or even never happen. Having put little in I  really don't need to get much back out so I cut my asking price right down to a  few thousand dollars and someone usually jumps on it.  People are far more  likely to buy an old boat that is the in the water and being used than they are  a boat that has been sitting dry for years, or decades.  I look at what I  spent as my rent for the duration, and my return covers the expense to move me  and my gear to the next place. |