The Search for the "Right Boat" ...
- Nicole
- Dec 27, 2023
- 4 min read
Updated: Jan 20
After three summers sailing on the Ottawa River, I knew I wanted more than just weekend adventures. I wanted a bigger sailing life, more water, more comforts, more space, unknown adventures and experiences. So in August 2023, we officially started searching for “our” boat: the one that would carry us into the next chapter.
Falling for Coffee Time ... and Walking Away
On August 9th, we met our first serious contender: Coffee Time, a beautiful 1998 Hunter 376 in Gananoque. The moment I saw her, I was smitten. She had elegance, presence, and that quiet charm that makes you picture a future aboard before you even step inside.
The selling broker shared a marine survey from two years earlier, which at first felt like a gift, until it didn’t. The report revealed significant moisture throughout the deck, including at the pedestal and swim platform, with readings over 60% in multiple areas. Repairs like that aren’t weekend jobs; they’re enormous, expensive undertakings. Reality sank in, and with a heavy heart, we walked away.
It hurt. But it was the right decision for us.
Expanding our Search ... and Expanding the Stress
A few days later, I inquired about a 1999 Hunter 380 in Nova Scotia. The broker immediately discouraged it (“doesn’t present well”), but suggested we widen our search to the United States, where prices might be better, even after factoring in transportation, customs, mast work, captains’ fees, exchange rates… basically, an avalanche of extra costs. Suddenly, our dream boat search became bigger, more complicated, and honestly, a bit overwhelming. But also exciting.
Soon after, our broker, let’s call him Robert, sent us a promising lead: a 2001 Hunter 380 named Easy Wind in Maryland. Heating. Air conditioning. A gorgeous dodger and bimini. Hot water. Creature comforts everywhere. Easy Wind made the sting of losing Coffee Time soften.
The Emotional Roller Coaster of Easy Wind
We spent a week researching, budgeting, spreadsheeting, and convincing ourselves not to get too attached. On August 17th, we made our first offer on a boat.
It felt electric… until it didn’t.
The sellers refused outright. No counteroffer. Just a flat no. Ouch.
Robert suggested we wait a month and try again. If patience were a sport, I would not medal: waiting was torture. But I held onto hope, telling myself that if she was meant to be ours, she’d still be waiting.
By mid September, I checked back in ready to move forward, only to be told to wait longer. The logic made sense, winter was coming, and winterization plus storage might motivate the sellers. But waiting without clarity was exhausting.
So we did something bold… and maybe a little rebellious...
Maryland, Secret Boat Viewing, and Red Flags
We decided to go see Easy Wind ourselves, without telling Robert. At that point, little inconsistencies were piling up, communication was slowing, and the whole situation felt… off. I needed to see the boat. To stand on her deck. To know whether my heart was chasing something real.
When we finally met Easy Wind on September 16th, I fell hard.
The dock access was easy, a big deal for me with limited mobility. The dodger handrail gave me confidence. The deck was sparkling. The dodger and bimini were beautiful. Inside was dark and tired, but nothing a little love couldn’t fix. The seller’s broker was open about needed work, like replacing the motor mounts, which we appreciated.
We went home determined and hopeful.
Robert, understandably, wasn’t thrilled we’d gone without him, but for the first time, he seemed to take us seriously. Unfortunately, instead of speeding things up, communication slowed even more. Replies stretched from days to weeks. Progress stalled. Frustration grew. Then October 25th brought another blow.
One Step Closer ... And Another Heartbreak
New information surfaced: in addition to the motor mounts needed replacing, the fridge wasn’t functioning, and the rudder needed to be replaced.
The sellers were finally open to our price… but at what cost?
We were devastated. Repairs meant more money, more stress, and more delays before we could even start our sailing life aboard her. We were grateful for the honesty, but crushed all the same. In the end, we made the hardest decision again: We walked away.
Two Boats, One Road Trip, and a Tough Choice
We didn’t give up. On November 4th, we set off on a five-day road trip to see two more Hunter 380s: Serenity Isle in Wisconsin (through a dealership), and Aquam Vinum (private sale). Both boats were beautiful. Both had upgrades we loved. Both tempted us deeply. And both stretched our budget. Aquam Vinum had fantastic features like dinghy davits, an upgraded prop, entertainment setup, and
she totally stole my husband’s heart. But the private seller wasn’t comfortable with us using legal representation. That was a dealbreaker for me. If we were buying the boat that would carry our dreams, it had to be done safely and professionally. Walking away would hurt, especially for Tom. But was it the right call?
Serenity Isle, though… she was the one that spoke to me. Well maintained, thoughtfully upgraded, comfortable, safer for my mobility with bars on the bimini, with the enclosed cockpit I loved. She felt right.
And as much as emotions tugged in different directions, one truth guided us:
We wanted a turnkey boat so we could start living our dream sooner rather than later.
So we followed that path.
And that’s where the next chapter begins.
Stay tuned, because Serenity Isle and Aquam Vinum still have more to say in this story, and this adventure is only just getting started. ⚓💙
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