Sailboat Adventure Part 3: Temptress

(Read Part 1 and Part 2)

The next morning, I headed over to meet Landon at the boat and finalize the “sale.” Landon met me at the marina gate and we walked down the dock to see Temptress

She was waiting for us, filthy as ever, in her slip on Dock E. It was a cool, clear spring day. 

Soon, the boat would be in my name and it would be too late to back out. “Ready to go sign the papers?” Asked Landon. 

Landon and I called Jeff before we walked to the Department of Licensing.

“You two both sound suspiciously happy.” Jeff said. “What have you been smoking?”

“It’s the happiest day of both our lives,” I repeated the adage: “The second happiest day of your life is when you buy a boat, and the first happiest is when you sell a boat.”

Landon and I went up the staircase to the windowless Department of Licensing. Is there a law that DMVs aren’t allowed to have windows? The employees had tried to make it more cheerful by adding Seattle sports memorabilia. There was a Seahawks jersey and an Ichiro funk-pop. 

While the DOL employee slowly typed the boat registration into the computer, Landon and I chatted. Apparently, Elwood had come back and offered him $1,000 for the boat last night, but he was still giving it to me for free because he liked my blog more than he liked boat flippers. 

“Wow,” I said. “I guess Elwood saw the value in it.”

The DOL employee looked up at us. “Value?” He asked. 

In Washington State, if you give a vehicle as a gift, you don’t pay tax. However, if you pay for it, you have to pay 10% of the entire blue book value of it, even if you only paid a fraction of that. 


“No, no value,” said Landon to the clerk. 

“Nope, no value.” I agreed. “It’s a derelict vessel.”

Thankfully, the DOL employee didn’t try to pin any taxes on us. They also didn’t make Landon pay the back registration that hadn’t been paid since it was last sailed in 2007. In a couple more minutes I was the proud owner of a non-functional Newport 33. 



Back at the dock, Landon took me into the marina office. “This is the new owner,” he announced. 

“Yup, I’m the proud new owner.” 

The marina manager shook my hand. “So, can you move it this weekend?”

“Well,” I said, “I’d prefer to get it out of here under its own power, because towing it will be expensive. I expect I’ll be able to move it by mid-week next week.” This was the marina manager’s first week on the job working for the new marina owners, and he seemed kind, but worried. It was his responsibility to clear the dock out. In the corner, a man with leathery skin and motorcycle gear was sitting on a pile of boxes. He reminded me of a falcon waiting to swoop down on an unsuspecting rodent. 

The marina manager directed a question at him: “Chris, what was the name of that mechanic?”

“Kyle?”

“Yeah, I think that was the one. Do you have his contact?”

“It should be in the folder.”

The marina manager sorted uselessly through a folder, and then a pile of papers on his desk. Then he looked up at me.
“Once I find it, I’ll text you the name of the mechanic,” he said. 

Now that the boat was mine, Landon had to head off to his work as a carpenter. First, I snapped a photo of him in front of his former boat. Then I  climbed aboard my new boat. It still didn’t feel like mine, because I didn’t want to get too attached before I was sure the engine would start.

I had made a careful list of what to do to get a motor started that hasn’t been used in 19 years. I was determined to follow it by the book and not take any shortcuts. 

Change the oil, change the oil filter, change the coolant, check the transmission fluid, change the fuel filter, remove the old diesel from the tank, and scrub it out. Possibly change out the fuel lines. 

I climbed into the lazarette and started by emptying the water separator. Surprisingly, the mix of diesel and water that came out didn’t look too bad.  

I started wondering how I would know if the fuel had gone bad. Maybe there was particulate in the fuel lines and I would need to replace all of them. I started to get into my head about all the things that could go wrong, so I decided to call the mechanic that the marina manager had recommended.

I told Kyle the situation: a Universal Diesel that hadn’t been started in more than a decade. 

“Oh, a Universal?” Kyle said. “They don’t make those anymore. You can’t even get parts for them. I wouldn’t even bother if I were you.”

“You can’t even get parts on ebay?” I asked. 

“Nope. If you need to replace anything, even the glow plugs, you’ll have to do a full rebuild or get a new engine.” 

“How much does that cost?” I asked.

“$16,000.” 

“Well, thanks,” I said. 

After I hung up I sat down. I felt a bit winded. I thought about calling Landon, but this wasn’t his problem now that I had signed the paperwork. I decided to call Jeff. After all, his ad had gotten me into this pickle. 


“Are you serious?” Jeff said when I told him what Kyle had said. “I’ll be right over.” 

The Universal M20 boat engine

Back at the boat, Jeff shook his head in disgust. “This engine has barely been used. $16,000 rebuild yeah right.. I’m sure we can get it to start.”

I believed him. He had bought and sold a lot of boats, and clearly had experience with engines. He showed me that the engine, a Universal M20, had a hole on the bottom where you could empty the oil from if you could just fit something underneath. Unfortunately I didn’t have any suitably sized Tupperware to fit under the engine. He showed me how to change the coolant and check the transmission fluid. He showed me that the Newport 33 had hatch in the cockpit above the engine that you could open to easily access the top of the engine, and two hatches alongside the engine. It was extremely accessible to work on. 

More than mechanical expertise, Jeff had stories. He told stories about the Ballard Mill Marina, and the people who had lived aboard. Jeff still lived aboard at the marina, in a boat with a wooden mast that had sailed around the world for 20 years before it came to him. He knew the metal sculptor liveaboard who had made the tree-like sculpture next to dock E. “It’s built so that you can build a fire inside of it,” he said. “Although I don’t know why you would want to do that. Seems kind of risky.”

The metal sculpture and Storm’s butt

Even after I headed out for the day, Jeff kept texting me links to videos about how to fix the engine.

He also texted me a link to the development company that had purchased the marina. It was full of drivel about keeping the spirit of the place while giving it a fresh face. Also known as forcing all of the marina tenants out so that they could get newer, higher paying tenants in. 


My girlfriend and I had booked an Airbnb yurt in Skagit for that weekend. We were planning our first weekend trip as a couple to see the tulips and go to flea markets. After I told her that I had decided to get the free boat, she said that she could cancel the trip if we needed to. Instead, we could spend our weekend on the boat, which she was also excited about. I appreciated this because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to focus on the tulips with the boat hanging over my head. The marina owners wanted the Temptress gone ASAP.

To be continued…