Inside Angle: Five Things I Don’t Need on My Boat

Every spring I take stock of my boat’s inventory of parts, gear and martini glasses with an eye towards stripping a little bit of weight out of the vessel before the much-anticipated cruising and social season begins. This is because weight matters and, like a lot of people I know, boats tend to get laden over time. In my yacht design office, we strive to “add lightness” wherever we can engineer it into a new project, and on my own boat I perform an annual purge to please the cruising gods.

This summer I’ve taken it a step further, identifying five things that I don’t need on my boat at all, even if they’re staying for the long haul. This list is based on ten years with the same boat and the same family. Your results may vary.

The TV (before college football season, that is). The boat is a couch potato antidote, a platform for adventure and good times. If you bought a boat to live your best life, but then you lie on that boat’s couch all day to stare at the same TV you’d watch at home, you’re doing it wrong. At least until the Big Ten and the SEC come to life. In September I’ll turn the TV towards the cockpit, crank up the sound and watch the game in the sun. College football and boats go together like Bud Light and bad decisions.

The third and fourth burners on the stove. I’m not even sure I need the second burner since we’re not cooking meth anytime soon. My family and I spend about 40 nights a year aboard our sportfisherman and no one has ever needed multiple burners to prepare a meal. We cook sparingly, below deck, since grapefruit doesn’t need to be sautéed, lunch is a dinghy ride away and dinner is either grilled in the cockpit or prepared by the nearest waterfront joint.

Flip-flops. Now hear me out. I personally hate flip-flops all the time, but I understand if you want to wear them to the beach, the bar, or while walking away from me in a tizzy. But flip-flops are dangerous on deck. Wear real shoes or go barefoot on my boat, I don’t care. But no flip-flops unless you brought one for the little bottle opener in the heel.

Reverse-cycle heat. Even on the Great Lakes, I never run my AC backwards to heat the boat because we like to cruise and fish and laugh in chamber-of commerce weather and not the gales of November. Unless I decide to move my boat to the Pacific Northwest, I don’t think I’ll ever crank up the heat. Hell, if I did need heat, I could probably make due with that one leftover burner in the galley.

The remote spotlight. Ever on guard facing aft, I have yet to turn that sucker around and aim it at anything. Fortunately my two eyes, chartplotter, radar, 3,000-lumen handheld beam at the helm and my bowman’s forehead-mounted LED get the job done better than the old Jabsco on the bridge. Am I stripping it off the boat to save a few pounds? No. But it never comes in handy.

Beach house nautical tchotchkes and toss pillows with anchors on them. I know I said five things, but this is crap we don’t have on board the good ship By Design and never will. Why? Because my wife, The Admiral, doesn’t abide them either. “No seashell lamps,” she says. “No brass poop deck signs. No captains’ hats with scrambled eggs on them.” Now this is the same wife (I just have the one) who yesterday bought new ice cube trays in the shape of anchors. “Anchors are meant to be under water, like in your drink. Plus, they melt. They go away.” Yes, Admiral.

So, there. Five items that are staying on my boat even if I don’t use them, and the stuff which will never be aboard. Oh, and the aforementioned Bud Light. This is nothing new so don’t get your panties in a twist, guy. Do you want a beer or a glass of water? I’ll happily hand you either, or both. Just not in the same bottle.

This article originally appeared in the November 2023 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.

Source: https://www.powerandmotoryacht.com/column/inside-angle-five-things-i-dont-need-on-my-boat