We had arrived at the boat show in search of Dan, and I was scanning the crowd ahead when my eyes twitched involuntarily to port. "WOW! Look at THAT!"
 
It was so pretty, so red, with such a pretty sheer. If she'd been human, I'd have gone to jail, because I just had to touch. It was ten feet of pretty, built for oars and a two horse Evinrude. It had a centerboard trunk with a plug to keep the water out, but no rudder, and no rig.
 
For a person who sails, a beautiful motorboat is an almost oxymoronic enigma. Being attracted to one is a dilemma like being desirous of someone who lives and thrives on the wrong side of the tracks: what will your friends say? What about your family?
 
I touched and looked and searched for superlatives, and then I saw it. The boat was for sale.
 
I was doomed.
 
I blinked, and looked again at the price to make sure I had read it right. It had to be a mistake. This beauty must surely cost more.
 
It was no mistake. Boat, motor, and trailer for less than the cost of a new sail for most small craft. In fact, the trailer is worth nearly as much as the package. It even has a new spare tire.
 
I was doomed.
 
I stammered, looked at the boat, and looked at Pam. "Well, what do you think?"
 
"Sure."
 
"Sure?"
 
"Sure?"
 
"Sure. Why not."
 
"Oh, wow..."
 
At that point, Greg, the seller, approached. Greg is a boatbuilder, rower, and sailer who, among other things, has worked and crewed on Nina, the replica of Columbus's ship. He did not build this boat, but seemed as impressed as I with the design and quality.
 
Before the show ended, I was summoned by the officials. The new boat had won Best in Show in the Skiff category.  
 
I have told everyone that I bought Pam a boat, and that she should name it.  She agrees that I bought the boat for her, and plans to call it Just One More.
 
I hope she'll let me use it. —Steve Haines