It all started with an ad on eBay: buy a 90-foot trawler and “live a bit.” It did not take long before the old fishing boat had me hooked.

When I first saw Lady Jane close up and personal, all I could see was the life I could have. The fact that she was completely covered in rust, right through in several obvious places, did not even enter the equation.

After 20 years in the computer industry, I wanted a more balanced life and had embarked on a spree of hiking, climbing, skiing, flying and diving. The boating life, it seemed, would be perfect.

It was surprisingly easy to put together the money I needed—about 50,000 pounds, or $90,000—and even easier to hand it over to the owners. I looked at the year-old survey, of course, but it hardly mattered. I was only looking at what I wanted to see, thinking with my heart and noTIM NOLANJane riding high on a low tide.t my head. I had bought a boat—a big one.

The problem was that I had no idea what to do or how to do it.

REALITY CHECK

Until I purchased Lady Jane I had never actually piloted any kind of boat. Now, I had a huge trawler, built for fishing in the North Sea.

To give you a sense of scale, Lady Jane is twice the length of my house. She is divided by five watertight bulkheads into six classic trawler compartments: the steering room; galley with crew’s quarters; engine room with battery room and wheelhouse; the fish hold; the forward locker; and the net locker. The stern is rounded to take on heavy seas. She draws nine feet.

In terms of accommodations, Lady Jane was built to sleep seven. There is generous crew space within the crew’s quarters, complete with six “coffin” bunks designed to prevent crew members from falling out of their beds in heavy seas. There is also a bunk in the wheelhouse for the skipper.

When I took possession, Lady Jane was moored in the middle of the River Itchen, in Southampton, England. It is about 45 miles from my home. Forget my lack of boating smarts, I didn’t even have transportation to get myself from shore to ship and back again.

Stuart, the first of what has become many boating friends, loaned me one of his HBI’s (the British equivalent of a RIB, or rigid inflatable boat) to come and go as I pleased. A brave and generous man, he did this knowing that I was clueless about boats, including how to skipper a small one. I realized that I needed to get my own tender, and opted for a small inflatable, which perfectly suited a little 4 HP engine.

WHERE TO START?

I was blissfully unaware of just how much I had taken on and, although aware of some of the difficulties I faced, I had a new toy and was starting to enjoy the lifestyle. That feeling of being on deck in the evening when all is calm is one that needs to be experienced to really appreciate.