owlrigh

I began telling people that the reason I was still in Bundaberg was that I was awaiting for my autopilot to be fixed. It was the truth, in a way; the guy who owned the slipway we were staying at had offered to sell me a cheap tiller autopilot, and I was going to purchase it if it worked. It didn't. So began a back-and-forth sally of him attempting to fix it, trying it out, and him attempting to fix it again.

The last time he fixed and then gave it to back my father and I sat in the cockpit and watched as it apparently worked. Bzzt, bzzt, it went, as it corrected the "course" every time the yacht moved from the wash of boats going past.

"Looks like it works," said my dad. "We'll have to take it out for a spin."

I was sure it would work, and thought this taking it out for a spin bizzo was a waste of fuel, but all things should be checked nonetheless.

Next morning we turned the engine on, dropped lines, and set off on a slow chug down the river. Then Phil turned on the autopilot, let go of the wheel, and sat back to see what would happen.

( Just as well we did go out. )

Gecko is her name.

"Hey, want to come to Tin Can Bay? It's only an hour away," my father cajoled early in the week. He lied. It was not, and I knew this was so. I stayed behind. Hours later they came back all excited.

"We found you a yacht! We're going to have a look at it on Friday, but it looks like the real thing."

Friday morning rolled around and I found myself bundled into the ute to go have a look. She was everything on the list: 28 foot, full of sails, solar panels, anchor locker, fibreglass, depth sounder, dinghy, Yanmar diesel engine.

( Yay! )

Deciding to purchase a yacht is the easy part. Then that's where it becomes complicated. There are ever so many to choose from. Once every two weeks a magazine is published. "Trade-A-Boat" it is called, and it's so chunky it would put many a telephone book to shame. One has to remember, too, that brokers do not put all of those they've for sale in there -- just a modest selection, and some brokers have so many for sale they'd take pages of ads up there.

It's through this chunky book that you have to wade, trying to figure out what people mean in the ads and near unto using a magnifying glass to figure out if the yacht looks all right in the photograph. Then it's the price, then it's a call. Mostly they are misses. There are very few hits.

My father has specifics in his mind as to what to get me. It fits along these specs: 26-30 foot, GRP (fibreglass) hull, needing little to no work, safety gear, dinghy and outboard, and preferably gadgets like eutectic fridges (or icebox which can be converted), depth sounders, solar panels, radios, gymballed gas stove, this sort of thing. Must be beamy, have a relatively small cockpit, high freeboard, and lots of living space, .

In short, a bit much of an ask when he is looking to spend no more than $30,000.

( What you do get for less than that. )