Bad Influences

How can you beat that?

Look at that.  Beautiful Papillon en route from Tonga to New Zealand, with our lovely butterfly spinnaker flying.  What’s that you say?  We look a little different than we did before?  True, friends, true.  We used to be a yawl, albeit a bent one.  So how did this change come about?  Gather around, children, and I will tell you a tale of mizzens and busy husbands.

Boat owners have a lot in common.  In my experience, the vast majority love to tinker.  This is good, because boats and tinkering are a natural fit.  Erik loves it.  As for me, not so much.  This makes it a little hard for me to understand his fix-it tendencies, but a marriage is all about coming to terms with the idiosyncrasies of another human being, right?  As long as I’m not required to pass him channel locks every ten seconds, I'm fine with it.

 

The problem with having a Mr Fix-It aboard is two-fold.  First, he is forever looking for projects.  And sometimes those spontaneous projects involve dismantling the pantry just as I am trying to cook dinner.  But that is just a matter of scheduling and logistics.  Second, and more problematic, he is weak-willed and easily led when it comes to boat repair.  Because the real problem comes when Mr Fix-It becomes friends with another Mr Fix-it.  This is a case of the total exceeding the sum of the parts.

This is my non-scientific depiction of the thought processes of Mr Fix-It.

As you can see, he is at his most dangerous when he has nothing to do.  Because being ahead on boat projects is no problem for Mr Fix-It.  No!  There are other boats in the anchorage, aren’t there?  And those guys could use a little help, couldn’t they?  Except, it isn’t just offering help; a bored Mr Fix-It can easily initiate a job on another boat.  And that is not always popular with the crew.

Imagine.  We were in a beautiful anchorage in Tonga, enjoying our last few days of tropical weather before heading back to the temperate zone.  There were reefs, a beach, and sunny skies.  Then some friends we hadn’t seen since Panama (a Mr Fix-It and his family) came into the anchorage.  Friend Fix-It took one look at our boat, shook his head and said, “That needs to come down.”  And the dulcet tones of the grinder rang out on Papillon.  Because Erik had needed just that one, tiny, feather-light push to bring down the mizzen. 

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go...

Stand back, kids.

And, we're down.

Hey, Mom, aren't you having fun?

I can’t really complain.  They felled it like a tree, no one got hurt, and it was probably the safest thing for what could have been a bumpy passage to New Zealand.  But we’ve set precedent.  Here we are in Opua, and Erik has been over at Friend Fix-It’s boat for hours now, talking rigging and making plans.

I just hope the next project is on their boat.