The dream of the complete sailing package with all the bells, whistles, and fancy sails is rarely what a new boat owner finds.

When I first bought my sailboat I considered it to be fairly complete for the sailing that I wanted to do. Little did I know that there were all sorts of additions or "modifications" that could be done to the boat to make it easier to handle, launch and recover, and more comfortable to spend a night or two on. Throughout the first year of owning my boat, I got caught up in the "modification craze" that seriously afflicts some boat owners.

The first lesson I learned was that the previous owner was obviously an idiot. How else could I explain his obvious lack of understanding for not having a boom vang, topping lift, out-haul or Cunningham on the boat? Not that I even had a clue as to what those items were when I bought my boat, but he certainly should have. Didn’t he know that it was essential to have a compass, VHF radio, wind indicator and some sort of depth-measurer-thingy? And excuse me for saying so, but it was obvious that he didn’t have the slightest idea about sailing, since the halyards weren’t run to the cockpit, there were no telltales on the sails and of all the horrors--there was only one little headsail on the boat!

Through the first year it seemed that the more I learned about all the stuff that could or should be on a boat, the more I realized that my boat was severely lacking in the equipment category. I bought gadgets and did all the "common" modifications I was told I needed, and then some more. I bought several used sails, including a spinnaker, which I’ll learn to fly one of these days. I added a battery and an electrical system, replacing the puny little lighting that was on the boat. I also put in a FM/AM/Tape/CD player and speakers because the lack of tunes on board was simply not seaman like. I ran everything and anything to the cockpit, even if it didn’t need to be, and I’ve since found that the anchor is better handled at the bow. I bought this and that, reconfigured these other things, added some other equipment to both boat and trailer and basically spent almost as much money on all this cool stuff and modifications as I had originally laid out for the initial purchase of the boat. When my lovely bride caught me in the act of bidding on another used headsail on eBay, she finally called a screeching halt to the buying and modification frenzy. There was something in the way that she said, "Its either me or that $#)$*!#&*^ boat!" that got my attention, although I have to confess that there was an instant of hesitation. Unbeknownst to me at the time, she had caught me from going over the edge and into the abyss, saving my life and more importantly, the life of our boat from a fate worse than neglect. Who knows as to what depths I would have sunk in my quest for adding things to the boat to make it "better?" I’m convinced that my boat breathed a sign of relief when I announced that I was finished adding things to it.

I had almost gotten lost in all the mostly great, often good, but sometimes really bad ideas and modifications that could, should and sometimes definitely should not be made to a boat. The kick-up rudder was a great idea for sailing in a lake as we often find the shallow spots. The hatch screens were a welcome relief from the bugs at night. The changes made to make the boat easier to sail alone helped but there were some minor failures along the way as well.

I found that the home-made, camp-pads-from-Wal-Mart cockpit cushions were slipperier than the dickens when wet and stepping on one made you an instant candidate for the next man overboard. The camp pads went into the dumpster after the first time in use. The cockpit cover I made from one of those blue tarps and bunch of old flexible tent rods wasn’t worth beans either. It was tedious to setup and any wind blowing at all would render it a hazard to anyone in the cockpit. That ended up to be a complete waste of time and materials. I also discovered that tackling projects meant to create more storage really meant that I could stuff my boat with more things I didn’t need, like packing five days worth of clothing and food on board for only a weekend on the lake. It seemed to me that the really great ideas were all used up and I was now coming up with or being told about good ideas that only might work from my fellow sailors. I realized was that this modification craze was also running rampant in my fellow sailors.

Before breaking out the tool box and enacting a major project, ask yourself if it’s a necessity or luxury.

An acquaintance of mine talked to me about upgrading his outboard motor on his 26-foot sailboat so that he could motor in faster in case a storm blew up on the water. I told him that whereas the boat was rated to handle at most a 15-hp motor if you really stretched the issue, I thought a 50-horse was way too much and certainly more than the boat’s transom could handle. He just walked away from me shaking his head as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. He hasn’t spoken to me much since his boat has been in the shop having the transom repaired.

One boat was owned by an older couple that lived in the city and who liked to spend the weekends on their boat, cruising the lake. We were out calmly sailing on one of those warm Saturday afternoons, making our way back to the marina to arrive just before it was time to fire up the grill and burn something for dinner when the hostess asked if I wanted something to drink. "Anything you have will be just fine" seemed an innocent answer. After she recanted an enormous list of choices, I realized that I should have just given a preference. I also thought that maybe she was pulling my leg, since there was absolutely no way that these folks could have everything to drink that she said was on board for if nothing else, the lack of storage space. I was absolutely wrong. Did I want beer? I could have several from nine different brands. Did I want a soda? I could select from an even dozen of cases. How about a mixed drink? My local tavern didn’t carry this much of a selection. I came to the conclusion that their boat didn’t need ballast and what they had was certainly too much. Just from the visual clues I got as my hostess opened cabinet after cabinet after storage hatch after cooler was that there was enough on board to quench the thirst of everyone back at the marina clubhouse and then some. "Bob designed and built in plenty of insulated storage space so that we could carry plenty of the drinks we like on board," she explained, responding to my wide-eyed look. "We can sail the full length of the lake and back again without the risk of ever running out of anything" she added. I was just then thinking to myself that they could sail the entire season without running out of anything except maybe ice, when she finished by stating that Bob was going to add an ice maker next spring so that they wouldn’t run out of ice. I grabbed a beer and sat back down in the cockpit, mentally estimating the weight that all that liquid must have added to the boat and noticed that, come to think of it, this boat didn’t heel at all.

A man’s got to know his limitations. Perhaps nothing else both emphasizes and risks violating that maxim like owning a boat.

The modifications I have seen done to perfectly good boats and the bad experiences I have shared has convinced me that any boat owner can go too far. Oh sure, there are lots of upgrades and modifications that I’ve done to my boat and that others have done to theirs that work beautifully and have solved many a problem. But allow me to quote a few old proverbs, like: "Enough is enough"; "Know when to say when"; "Less is more"; or "A man’s got to know his limitations"; or finally one of my favorite’s, "If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it." For now, I think I have learned the lessons about the bad things that happen to good boats with my current boat and have vowed not to contemplate any more projects or make any more modifications on it. However, let me make it perfectly clear that all bets are off when I get my next, bigger boat. I just hope someone’s there to stop me before I go too far.

Epilogue:
Well, it didn’t take long after this story was written for me to succumb to the modification affliction again. My latest project involved the installation of a mainsheet traveler to provide better up-wind sailing performance through windward sheeting capabilities. Doesn’t that sound great? I’d considered the project several times over the last couple years, but was thwarted by the expense of all the cool parts that were needed. To put in a "proper" traveler, I would need this track, a "car" that travels the track (hence the terminology), another "fiddle" block, but one that had a cleat as part of the block, some eye straps, line and some track stops, not to mention also needing who knows how much stainless steel hardware? Then I found a "sale" for some of the big pieces. I could save more than half on this part and almost half on this other part and get a "great deal" on yet another part – before I knew it I had my credit card out and was figuring shipping charges. Too late and I had committed to the purchase of a "proper" traveler for my boat, investing yet more money than I wanted to into the boat. What, oh what, would I tell my lovely bride when the bill came in. I doubted that she’d understand all that ‘windward sheeting" baloney…

The saving grace for me was the fact that the bill wouldn’t arrive for a couple weeks, but that blissful feeling was short lived when the parts started arriving at the house. One box, two boxes, three boxes and more had my wife asking me once again, "What’s this stuff for?" After a short and lame explanation, I left for the marina with all my brand-new goodies in hand and several tools, both power and not to tackle yet another project on the boat.

The installation of all the components actually went fairly well. Everything fit with only a very small amount of coaxing, I had all of the correct parts and hardware and I only needed a little help to hold things in place while I tightened the nuts underneath the cockpit benches. I even managed to get myself out from under the cockpit benches by myself, a feat that I was unsuccessful at doing last winter.

When it all was done, I was quite pleased with myself. I went out sailing and the traveler was a big improvement and did make the boat sail better. I didn’t have any luck convincing my mate when she came out sailing, but as long as I was happy, she was happy –or so she said. I managed to avoid answering her question about exactly how much I had spent on the boat since we’ve owned it, but mentally cringed at the thought that this last project probably put the total at exactly double of what we bought the boat for initially.

Okay, so this was the final, final project that I’ll do to this boat and I won’t spend any more money on modifications or additional stuff. Yeah, right… I’ve been thinking lately about the lousy speakers in the cabin and the cabin light just stopped working last week.