It started out as infatuation. We had been introduced through the internet, She wasn’t the most beautiful to look at. Hadn’t been taken care of recently. Hadn’t felt loving hands for quite some time. I had a chance to do some research. Her family tree was strong. She came from a long and respected lineage. Somewhere she had gone wrong, was a little off. Couldn’t be sure just how far she had strayed by looking at her pictures online. The only way to really know was to meet her in person.

At first glance my heart started to tingle. She was lying still in the morning mist. Wisps of dew clinging to her lines. From the outside she looked as expected. A little tired, needing a little love. But what about when she opened her hatches to let me inside. There the truth would be much more obvious.

Her clasp was opened, her door slid back, and I eased myself down her ladder. Her open inner spaces were full, to the brim, with the treasures, of another man. I could see through the mess that she felt dirty inside, soiled, and it was out of her control. She needed to feel special, clean, proud, and I knew right away that this had been taken from her. I instinctively knew that I could bring the touch that would bring her inner light back out.

She wanted to shine, to fly free. It felt like a plea. Help me to be me. Help bring me back.

I heard her cries, but needed to be sure I could trust my instincts. I called in others to assist in my evaluation. There was agreement. She once was a thorough bred. and could be again. With some love, some patience.

We needed time together. I slept in her that 1st night. In the forepeak, another night in the aft cabin, in the salon. It all felt so right. I opened her drawers. I looked through her most private places, read her history between the lines. She opened up to me fully. She needed no coaxing.

I decided that I would make her mine.

Since that fateful day I’ve always treated her like she deserves. I lavish money on her, and swell with pride when she shines in her sparkling, new, digs. She has needs, I know that. And as her needs get met, she is more appreciative and it shows. In how she reaches down wind, in how she holds her charge through the night. Of course she has moments when she struggles with her old ways. She will break down, sometimes covered in salty tears, and at those times it takes patience to listen, to feel, and finally to help to find the answer to her distress.

I pull out of the marina, my hand firmly on her wheel, and can feel the stares, the envy of those that I pass. They wonder who was I to  have tamed such an enchantress. What must I have to entice her to give herself so fully into my care.

And for me, it’s not about the envy of others. It’s about bringing her back to her true self. Letting her see and feel her youthful exuberance for life once again. I am merely along for the ride.