Wannabe Hippie

So last night Mark came home with a boat.  For those of you who know anything about boats (and I don't, really) it's a Schock 25" sailboat with a mast that folds down so you can trailer it.  It's actually kind of cool but it's already tried to kill me, so I'm not sure we're off to the best start. 

This morning I headed outside after Mark left for work to get a close up look in the light and take a couple of photos.  I climbed the ladder to peek into the cockpit and cabin and as I started to swing my leg up and over the side of the boat the ladder cut loose and tried to run off down the parking lot.  I managed, through some wildly awesome moves on my part, to catch the edge of the collapsing ladder with my foot and curse it back into place.  Dangling on the side of a boat with nobody around to be helpful?  Not my idea of a good morning. 

But I got photos, dammit.  And you can check her out by clicking on the picture above.   

She seems sound to me, but what the hell do I know?  Mark swears that the, er, holes in her that will have to be repaired are no big deal. Two honest to goodness holes created when the last owner removed the head (what?  no freaking toilet? COME ON!) and one that is the spot for a motor but the hatch has lost its seal. She needs a coat of paint and the rigging is a mish-mash of wires that will need to be addressed.  And she needs a new name.  Avocet just doesn't do anything for me, even if it is an awesome looking bird.

Any suggestions? And am I about to lose that man of mine to the sea?  Will my children survive?  Will I find a place to pee?  Dear Goddess, this is insane.