Boat names - the good, the bad and the offensive.

I didn’t like my boat’s name. 

When I moved onboard, ‘Herbie No. 2’ was painted down the sides. The Herbie part was acceptable but  ‘No. 2’  was almost a deal breaker. Yes, I was disgruntled that it wasn’t the first boat to have that name but the main problem was that it was a euphemism for feces. 

My first boat came with a name I disliked too - ‘Th’owd Brid.” It sounded like a Welsh Prostitute.

One of the worst things about buying a used boat (other than the endless, outgoing tsunami-esque flow of finances) is that you inherit a name that has nothing to do with you. The original owner gets to pick the name that is most meaningful to them. For reasons best known to them, my boats’ original owners wanted to express to the universe their fondness for older Welsh women and magical cars.

Unlike my previous life in a flat, I have an emotional connection to my home now. I  get to take my home with me wherever I go and, if I sometimes decide I don’t like where I am, within minutes I can be on the way to somewhere better. I find the knowledge that I have that choice to be incredibly empowering.  Wherever I lay my boat, that’s my home. I love my boat.

Last year, ‘Herbie No. 2’ was repainted and I could not have been more delighted when, early in the preparation process, Dave the painter sanded the old name off the sides. Now I could call it anything I liked.

I’d been told 100 times that it was unlucky to change the name of a boat whilst it’s in the water. I’m not at all superstitious, however, and suspect this to be a cynical rumour put about by opportunistic crane operators looking to exploit the gullible.

I was resolute. My boat was having a proper name and it was not coming out of the water.

I didn’t know what to call it though.

Firstly, I thought about a song lyric. 

This will be a subject for a later blog but, unbeknownst to them, the  band Gomez played a critical role in my transition from flat dweller to water gypsy.  In 2008, I saw them perform a show in Louisville, Kentucky; it started a chain of events which, less than 2 weeks later, resulted in my purchase of ‘Th’Owd Brid.‘ Now faced with the opportunity to rename 'Herbie No. 2,'  my first thought was to pay tribute by calling it ‘Gomez’ or ‘Shot Shot’, the title of my then favourite  Gomez song.

Some boats have great names; others don’t. Some boats have names that reflect their owner’s creativity; others have names that reflect a lack of owner-creativity.

I am a perfectionist and I needed the perfect name. I became obsessed with the possibilities.

One of my first contenders for the world’s greatest boat name was. ‘Eskimo Roll.’  Excited by my own genius, I touted it around as a possibility and - more often that not - was met with blank, confused expressions.  

If I wanted to go the funny route, I needed something simpler.

I thought about having an orange paint job and calling it ‘Easyboat’ ....

..... or ‘Sainsburys.’

I don’t like orange though.

‘Hogwarts’ Express.’

Maybe not. Children would shout out everywhere I went.

‘Permission to Moor Here.’

Possible point of contention with CRT.

‘Costa Concordia.’

..... because someone else already had ‘Titanic.’

‘Tourettes.’

Seemed apt, especially as it was a condition I now possessed as a direct result of buying a boat.

I wanted to be different. That, for me, was fundamental but I didn’t want to be too ridiculous. Otherwise, I’d risk being known as the boating world's answer to Bob Geldof.

I wondered what kind of response I’d get from the towpath if I drove up the GU with ‘Al Qaeda’ painted on the sides? Would my unusual sense of irony be lost on the public?

Dave, the painter, told me he was thinking about calling his boat ‘The Red Herring.’ His boat was bright blue. I liked his thinking.

The trouble with choosing a funny name is that the joke stops being funny very quickly. 

So I thought about a simpler angle, naming it after things I like:

‘Chicken Tikka Massala.’

‘Mick McManus.’

‘Felacio.’

The re-painting of my boat was completed over a year ago  and I still haven’t decided on a name. 

I’m still thinking about it but actually I quite like the anonymity and mystery of being ‘The Boat WIth No Name.’ Maybe I’ll call it that.

I’d be interested in hearing about your favourite and least favourite boat names. If you have a moment and the motivation, feel free to post a comment.

Joel

Jan 4th, 2014