When I told my adult son that I was planning to start a website about boating, he looked at me dubiously. In fact, his exact words were something along the lines of:
‘But you don’t know anything about boating.’
This is true. And it’s exactly why I decided to start the website. More than six months after moving onto my boat I still have less than half a clue about most of the things boating seems to entail. The alternative would have been to wait until I know everything there is to know, and then start the website. But where’s the fun in that?
More than six months after moving onto my boat I still have less than half a clue about most of the things boating seems to entail.
Last year – which seems a lifetime ago – I was asked to teach blogging to a class of third year Journalism students at Cardiff University. At that time I was writing regularly for The Conversation, The Big Issue and other outlets; but I hadn’t really considered my article-writing as blogging. Because it wasn’t.
I’ll be honest: teaching that class produced some mixed results. But it also made me think more seriously about the art and value of blogging.
It was only when I moved onto my narrowboat a few months later that I found myself looking for information online that just wasn’t there, unless I spent hours trawling through forums and comments sections. So, what I’m putting together is seeking to address that gap.
Narrowboat Therapy is more than just a website about boating. It’s both a way for me to gather the information I need, but more importantly it’s also so as to share what I’m learning with others along the way. Especially those who, like me, may be new to liveaboard boating or who are wondering if the lifestyle is for them.
Because living on a boat is more than just a change of address. (Yeah, about that: it’s not even an address.)
It’s a complete change in lifestyle.
Apart from all the nuts and bolts and technical matters involved in boat-living (for instance, what is a windlass and why do I have to know about inverters and where does my poo go), or which are the best cruising routes (… I’ve literally got no idea), the most important part of living on a boat – for me – is the living space itself. OK, yes that’s because I am a lifelong closet interiors freak (closet! see what I did there) but also because for me, as for many other people, my boat is not just a mode of transport or a thing to do on weekends. My boat is my home.
… my boat is not just a mode of transport or a thing to do on weekends. My boat is my home.
I named the nascent website Narrowboat Therapy as a thinly veiled tribute (or pastiche, as you prefer) to the website Apartment Therapy, which specialises in styling small spaces. I kept on visiting their site and really wishing there was one just for narrowboats…
Well, my wish was my command.
So, when I start geeking out around ‘make six pairs of curtains in an afternoon’ type stuff, just bear with me if you’re not into that. (Seriously though, why wouldn’t you be? We all need curtains. No shame in that.)
But it isn’t just about curtains. I think if you have a flick around the site you’ll see that already, even though I’ve just barely got started… in fact, so far I haven’t written about curtains once. Not. Even. ONCE.
… but hopefully not useless.
My one hope is that you’ll find this site useful. Geoff and I will be adding new content regularly because, you know, we take this shit seriously.
By the way, if you haven’t met Geoff yet, you definitely should. He’s the editor-at-large. He’s also a cat. His newsletter is The Shit so you should sign up for that right away.
Well anyway, that’s enough rambling from me. I hope to see you around…
Until then, stay afloat.