Naming our treasure

Naming a boat is not a simple matter. It's like naming a child. You want a name that's meaningful. I was named after my grandmothers. As the first born, it was important for my parents to honor their mothers. Luckily, I liked my name. My dad had a first name he hated, so he changed it from Colin to Andy, a take-off on his last name Andrews. But a boat name can't really be changed while you own it. It's appliqued on the transom declaring to all the world what matters to you. If it's silly, people will think you're silly. If it's dower, people will think you live surrounded by black clouds. You can't blame your parents either, because you choose the name.

A boat name must also be pronounceable and not embarrassing. When you call a boat over the radio, you say it's name three times over radio channel 16 and if someone calls you, you acknowledge the call by saying "This is [boat name]". "Sweet pea, Sweet pea, Sweet pea" sounds wimpy." "Ebenkinezer, Ebenkinezer, Ebenkinezer" has too many syllables to say both quickly and clearly. And, "Hot times, Hot times, Hot times," well, just shouldn't be said over a public radio channel. A guy who shouts, "Honey Bunch" over the radio will certainly blush.

Lastly, a boat name should not cause you to yawn. It should have a story to tell and make you smile. There must be thousands of "Rum Runners", "Just for Fun" and "Retirement" rocking in their slips. It doesn't have to be the only one around, as you always add your hailing port to it to make it one of a kind, but the name should surprise a bit and cause people to ask, "How'd you decide that name?" A name should not leave people saying, "What the hell is that all about" and walk away scratching their heads.

My first boat carried the name an Atlanta sailing club gave me. They thought I, a perky little blond, was amazingly brave to join a pack of strangers for a ten day charter sail in the Caribbean, sight unseen. I was mysterious even if it was pleasantly so. Six months later, I married one of the guys (it was a really good sail!). We christened her Mystery Woman. I still smile and remember those beginnings. And, I've never came across another Mystery Woman.

John and I chose our boat's name the day we bought her. Our choice was inspired by our dear friend who loves lower case text. It's only two syllables, easy to pronouce, and once you hear it, you'll never forget it. There's even a story that will make you smile. The sounds you hear when you say it will fill your mind with visions of soft blue skies, fresh breezes and full sails. Take a guess, but we won't reveal it until the christening in early May.