Typically this time of year I refuse to acknowledge the oncoming winter season by wearing shorts and sandals, blasting Jimmy Buffet songs from the cockpit, driving with my sunroof open and inviting friends over for barbecues. For four years I’ve scoffed at self-proclaimed “liveaboards” that tuck in their tails and head south for the winter, insisting there’s still plenty left to the sailing season. 

But not this fall.

Now the cockpit of the Encore is just as quiet as every other weekend-warrior-owned vessel in the marina – the few that are still left in the water, that is. Only creatures living in the small dark corners of the bilge inhabit her cabin and no one is probably going to bother cleaning the black streaks caused by the exhaust of incoming flights to PWM off her hull before she is yanked out of the water and spends the next six to eight months perched on jackstands in a parking lot.

After four winters chipping ice off the hull and huddling around an electric space heater, my wife and I have finally done what we considered impossible just four weeks ago; we sold the boat and bought a house.

It seems like a sudden transition even though we’ve been looking at properties up and down the state for more than a year. A bad experience with a buyers broker and news about the recent atrocities occurring within the housing market had me convinced we were doomed to spend another year aboard the Encore. 

My wife, intently listening to her internal clock, had other plans. 

First, she found a buyers broker who actually works for a living. Then we discovered a small two-story cape (built in 1928) in need of minor, and mostly cosmetic, repairs. We were so enamored with the place we signed a purchase and sale agreement even though the sale of the Encore was still pending – creating a less than ideal financial situation for a young couple still starting their careers – before the final piece of the puzzle fell into place.

With some heartache, I lowered the sale price of the Encore to little more than what we needed for a down payment, and she sold within a week. 

We’re fully moved into the house now, although some habits are dying hard. 

I found a Styrofoam cooler my wife had packed with ice, soda and cold cuts, sitting on the kitchen counter next to the refrigerator. 

“It just felt natural,” she said with a laugh.

For a few days we couldn’t figure out where to put three large storage boxes, so we kept moving them around our living room as we tripped over them. I was ready to throw them away, contents and all, when my wife opened up one of several closet doors in the room.

“Huh,” we both said, staring into the empty space quizzically.

We’ve decided not to clean any of the windows for a while, as the cat has repeatedly attempted to jump out of them, leaving small nose prints on the backside of the Plexiglas storm windowpanes.

These days it seems like everyone is either trying to sell or buy a home without much success, and I’ll end our story by pointing out the two key factors in our triumphant quest: finding a good broker and lowering the sale price of the Encore. It seems no matter what the market, with good people and willingness to compromise anyone can make things happen, even in a crashing market. 

Trust me; if we can do it, anybody can.

– Nate Jones