Bob has been wanting to get my ancient Snark sailboat out of the garage. He looked around and found a person in Waltham, Jim@sailboatstogo, that had a website for Snarks. He was going to gather the information on the boat — when it was made, what accessories we have — and I was going to also post it for sale on LincolnTalk. But he didn’t get around to it.

Suddenly, in July, I got an email from a guy named Shaun: “Jim@sailboatstogo tells me you have a Snark for sail? Is that true?” I told him that I still had it. He wrote back saying he and his mom used to have one and he really wanted to have one again. I went to talk to Bob. He still didn’t have the information together, and he didn’t have time right now to look for it. The boat was now stored up above the rafters in the garage; it would take two people to get it down. Bob could not do it because he appears to have torn the rotator cuff in his right shoulder.

“Look,” I said, “You want to get rid of the boat. It’s summer. Here’s a guy who wants the boat so he can sail it now. He doesn’t care whether it was built in 1980 or ’83. We have all the parts, we know the rudder is new, we don’t know if the sail is still good. I’ll tell him all that and see if he still wants it.”

I emailed Shaun with that information and told him that he could come see if he wanted it, but he should bring another person, since Bob couldn’t help him get it down from the rafters. Shawn wrote back that he was young and strong and could get it down without help.

As I lay in bed that night, I wondered if this guy actually knew how to tie a boat to his car. He said he and his mother had had a Snark and she had always wanted another one. “Young and strong” — maybe he was 19 years old and totally clueless. When I got up, I sent him an email asking him if he had given thought to how he would put the boat on the car. “You might need some extra rope; you will want to run a line from the bow to the front of the car somehow, so the boat doesn’t lift up while you are driving.” “Yes ma’am,” he replied. “I’m all set. Thank you for your advice and concern.”

“He’s probably going to show up in a Honda Fit, planning to stuff the boat in the tiny cargo area,” I laughed to Bob. One time I had given a wool rug from my living room to the church fair. Rolled up, it was 13 feet long and very heavy. I accepted someone’s offer to come retrieve it so I wouldn’t have to bother Bob with the task. They arrived in a Honda Fit planning to put the rug in the back, but the rug was nearly twice as long as the car. Bob had to load it into the back of his minivan and take it to the church after all.

When Shaun arrived, he was in fact driving a Honda Fit! He was not so very young – maybe late 50s. But he was about 6’3” tall, well proportioned, and radiated energy. He had sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and freckled, weathered skin that spoke of a life lived largely outdoors.

As Bob positioned himself to try to help bring the boat down, Shaun charged over, lifted the boat off the rafters, and carefully angled it down. “Oh, I see,” Bob said. “You really can do it yourself.” We opened the door and Shaun strode out with the boat over his head and plopped it down on the roof rack mounted to the top of the car. “Bob,” I said, “come see this slick roof rack.” Bob had been fretting about getting a new van because most don’t have the standard roof rack we use to transport our canoe.

We looked at the connection point on the front bumper. In the old days, cars had sturdy steel bumpers that one could easily tie things to. But these days, bumpers are made of fiberglass, and you can’t attach to them. Bob commented on the electrical connector next to the connection structure. “I put that system in myself,” bragged Shaun. “Took off the whole front of the car so I could drill from the back. I’m retired now. We have an RV that we drive to Florida in the winter. We attach the car to the back of the RV and tow it with us.”

As I watched Shaun efficiently strap down the boat, I commented on the easy system he used. “I tote boats all the time,” he explained.

“Why do you tote boats all the time?”

“I have several kayaks, a sail board, several surfboards, and a parasail. I also have a 17-foot Grumman aluminum canoe, just like yours that I saw in the garage. When I told my wife I was getting this boat, she said ‘Oh, no, not another boat in the yard!’

“Will your mother sail it too?” I asked.

“No… she passed several years ago. But right here along the bow I’m going to put ‘Anna-Marie.’ That was her name.”

He went on to tell me that he and his wife were going to Brewster for vacation next week in a park with a lake. “When I get up in the morning, usually the sea is flat, no surf, not enough wind for a sailboard. But I can take out the Snark.”

“Yes,” I said, remembering back to my own days on the water. “The Snark will sail in even the lightest breeze.”

Suddenly I felt I had caught a glimpse of another life I might have led, like peering through the lighted windows of houses as you drive by at night. A life full of fun on the water, not so hemmed in by all the “shoulds” and “oughts” that constrain my life. No nagging voice in my head telling me I have to try to make the world a better place. A life where there is always time to take a break and seize the moment. And a robust body, not this frail shell I inhabit.

Of course, who knows what kind of life he has really led — what tragedies and sorrows he has pushed through. I have had my own moments, retreating to Maine for a full month every summer, sailing, canoeing, cooking hot dogs over a driftwood fire on Sand Island. I turn away from that lighted window and embrace all the many joys that have blessed my own life.

It was comforting to see my little boat go to someone who loved it. Shaun sent an email to Jim, copying me, thanking Jim for connecting us. He attached a photo of the boat in his yard fully assembled, ready to sail. A thoughtful gesture, no?