I recently was asked to work on someone's boat as a paid job. It got me thinking that it's not making much economical sense based on the value of the boat.
Then my thoughts turned to my own Boat For My Potplants.
What is it worth? What does "worth' mean? Most people's assumption of the meaning of "worth" is its monetry value - the amount of money the craft can be sold at any particular time. Other factors come in to play - how much did it cost in the first place. How old is it? Does it have a trailer? Where is it moored? What condition is it in? Was it previously owned by John Lennon?
Based on these factors, my boat's probably worth diddely squat. But I don't care.
The bottom line is that it's only worth what someone is prepared to pay for it, if we're purely talking about £££, /-/-/-, and ddd's, and that figure also goes up and down with the tide, according to the country's economic conditions as a whole.
But if we're talking about what it's "worth" based on the number of hours worked on it, then I am a boat-millionaire, especially after 'Erindoors kindly let me use the kitchen table to sand and Brasso the old steering wheel whilst having breakfast this morning.
Ker-ching! I've just added another grand to its value - to me, that is. But on the open market it's still around the zero mark.
I raise my cuppa to all the other millionaires amongst us, who spend as much time as they can afford, doing little bit here and a little bit there, increasing their boat's "worth".
Welcome to my blog about an old boat that used to cruise the Norfolk Broads in the '70's. I was given it to renovate and bring to Wivenhoe in the early noughties, and since then it's morphed into a few guises: a pirate radio station, a home to a gorilla, an open garden, a Writer's Retreat, a party venue, a vinyl haven, and even a golf course. Most importantly it's always been a peaceful sanctuary for a few pansies and other flowers. Welcome to my Boat For My Potplants...
No comments:
Post a Comment