[NOTE: I've included a picture of the inside of the boat, and some pictures from the cockpit; the inside isn't as clean and no longer includes a full bar, since I don't live in NY year round and, honestly, hardly ever drink anymore. So FYI, in case you decide to come out... it's BYOB... or just have a chill time without it.]
Anyway, you'll notice that I'm being cryptic here. I'm not giving up the name of the boat... its actual length, year, or manufacturer... the name of the town... and I'm not posting any pictures of the outside of the boat, even though I have a ton of them.
That's for two reasons.
The first reason is simple: I have a few diaper friends within driving distance, and I don't want to give up too much info to people unless I really get to know and trust them.
Why? Well, a few years ago one of my friends - a non-ABDL thug who wore diapers for me, long story - called me and told me that he was homeless and wondered if he could move onto my boat for a few weeks. I had to tell him no - and was surprised, and more than a little pissed, when he replied and told me "Well, then... I guess I better get my shit off of it, then." Expecting a yes he'd gotten dropped off at the marina with his sack of whatever it was he had. I'm all for helping friends in need, but this particular friend would have turned my boat into a marijuana grow operation, or something along those lines; no thank you. He'd only been to the boat once but remembered how to get to it... I've been more careful since.
The second reason is simple to most of us; my boat doubles as a nursery. Meaning, I wear diapers on it.
When I first bought the boat I spent the night aboard many times. My boat was once the largest sailboat in the marina (when it was new); it has since been displaced by many larger boats, some 10 feet longer than mine. The owners of such high-falutin' sailboats - almost all people in their sixties, seventies, and eighties - used to make condescendingly humorous comments to me about sleeping over. They thought it was a giggle that someone was actually sleeping aboard their boat. I didn't stop, and, eventually, I'd see them skulking past me with their overnight bags. Now it's a lot more common that people stay over, many for the weekend. I'm not sure if I started the craze, but one now tells everyone that he didn't stay over on his until he saw me stay over on mine. I suspect some of the other lemmings did the same.
Living on a sailboat, if even for a summer (or a few weeks in July and August, sigh...) is tough. I know people who "cruise" - that is, they take their boats around the world. I don't know how they do it. Mine stays at the dock at night, sailed only during the day, and only a few days each summer as time permits, and I still have trouble loading it up with provisions.
This gets even tougher when some of the provisions are ABDL-related.
The boat has lockers, cubbies for storage. One of them is only ABDL stuff. I have a selection of diapers, baby bottles, pacifiers, and a coloring book. I also bring a bag of other stuff aboard.
Here's where the fun begins.
First, wearing diapers on a boat is naturally fun as fck. The boat rocks. Like a... you know. So wearing a diaper, sucking on a pacifier, and slurping from a bottle all take on a whole new dimension as the hand of God rocks my cradle - or the wind, for you athiests. You might think I'm being silly, but rocking off to sleep in your berth - er, crib - is an awesome, awesome, awesome, awesome feeling. I love it...
Second, I love wearing diapers in public.
Many of you know that I regularly strip down to just a diaper at the cottage. In fact, on Saturday night nobody was around, and I spent three hours walking around in an Attend, sucking on a bottle of (at first) warm milk. I wore my diaper into the freezing cold lake, trying to ease my way in slowly so as to avoid stickee shock; eventually I wet, warming things up a little. I then spent an hour sitting in a sopping wet diaper in an adirondack chair, watching the sunset and some sort of fireworks display. Awesome night.
Anyway, back to the boat...
I love wearing diapers in public. On the boat, out in the lake, I'm able to get away with 100% diaperage - as long as I keep a pair of shorts handy for those who come close. (The people across the dock from me are naturists, and they actually boat nude; they don't think I know, but I was warned by about ten different boat owners never to accept an invitation to go boating with them for that reason, hehe).
Anyway, again... I love wearing diapers in public. And, at the dock, I am able to get away with so much. Right now, as I type this, I am wearing nothing but a diaper. The hatch in the bow is open to let air flow through, and I'm watching people wander by; they peek in trying to see in the various boats, but even if they can see me through the screen, which is doubtful, they couldn't tell I'm padded. Behind me is the entrance to the cockpit; I can look in the reflection of this here laptop, and see that there are people walking on the next dock over. Several boats have putted by, and I've turned around to check them out; all they can see is someone chilling with no shirt on. And let's be honest... who the fck wears a shirt on a boat?
There is a boat next to me, and a boat to my right. Right now I have the curtains drawn, and I always keep a spare pair of loose-fitting shorts nearby in case anyone decided to knock on my hull and ask for permission to come aboard. (It does happen). Closest call? Once a sheriff jumped on to my boat while I was taking a diaper nap (under the covers) with the hatch wide open; he didn't realize anyone was onboard and was trying to get the attention of an intoxicated jetskier coming by. He apologized for the intrusion, but after he returned to the dock I had to look down to see if my diaper had accidentally been showing. (It hadn't).
But the best part about wearing a diaper aboard is the most important - and the simplest... no walk to the bathhouse.
My boat has a head - or a bathroom. It has a toilet, in its own room, and a sink in thegalley (kitchen). The owner who I bought it from told me the head was "just something for the ladies to use out at sea", explaining that men go overboard, and nobody should ever go number two. The number two thing was no problem, but my first summer here I said fck it to the never-using-the-head thing. I went number one at night, rather than make the cold walk to the bathhouse three docks over, many times. One day I went to the pumpout station and all hell broke loose... I realized that something was wrong when I saw only a little pee pumped out. I went back into the boat and investigated; a seal had come loose on the tank, and urine (mostly mine, thank you) had dribbled out. I spent a whole weekend scrubbing, hosing, and cleaning. And covered the loo with a bunch of lifejackets and boating stuff to prevent anyone from using it. Now I walk to the bath house...
Or do I?
I actually do not, my friends. Because I don't have to.
Every night - even when I have most of my non-diaper friends aboard, as long as they know - I pamp up at bedtime. (Or, sometimes, such as today, before). When it's just me I fill a baby bottle with juice or water; when it's friends we often go out for coffee. Then I come back, Pamped, and go to sleep.
I wake up soaked, without fail. I love wearing my diaper, now about ten pounds heavier, to the bathhouse. I peel it off in the shower stall, wad it up, tape it, and toss it into the garbage. Then I shower, and voila... fresh and clean... and I've not used the evil toilet once!
This is most satisfying when I hear the guy in the boat next to me, who I swear must have a prostate problem, get up five times to walk to the bathhouse. His wife once confided to me that they purchased a urinal and he sometimes uses that and then pours it out; she didn't say where, but I no longer swim in the marina. He does, but that probably doesn't mean much...
One time he told me that he never sees me leave my boat at night.
"Do you use the head on that thing, or do you have some magic diapers?" he actually asked me. "If you have them, please share!"
(I wondered if he'd spotted me in a diaper through the curtain or somethng, but that was the last I'd heard of it, so I'm guessing not).
The trickiest part is disposing of soaked diapers the next day on days I'm going 24/7, like I will tomorrow. In this case I don't shower, I get some of that baby wipe action.
I feel like a teen again -Parents Gone, Diapers On! - as I sneak my wet diaper to the garbage, past other boaters sitting in their boats watching every fcking thing that comes by. On busy weekends the marina garbage is full, and I have to leave the bag on the grass behind the can, where people down-on-their-luck will often walk by and rummage through it looking for bottles and cans. I picture one opening my bag, crying out in dismay ("EEK!"), and the wet, wadded Pamper dropping to the ground and rolling down the dock, past the transfixed eyes of my fellow boat owners. So far nobody's looked at me any funnier going back to the boat than they did when I left so... I'm guessing it hasn't happened.
My goal is to have a full-scale diaper party on this mofo. Discrete in the marina, diapers only out on the lake, and then diapers under jammies - with no trips to the potty, thanks - for the overnight after. I already have hella fun when it's just me in my diapers, and I have hella fun when it's my friends; a group of select diaper friends packed in on this sardine can, sucking on bottles and watching Finding Nemo? Mmmhmm!
It's 8:36 p.m. and I'm about to waddle into town to get something for dinner. I am trying to decide between Gerber Graduates or chicken parm with a salad. Whatever I decide, I promise that I will down it with a sippy cup of something, and then lay back, diaper on, and drift off to sleep... rocking back and forth, side to side, under a nearly full moon, and the stars.
In the middle of the night, when it's pitch black out, if I'm up to it, I'll climb up the stairs to the cockpit - diaper only - and sip my bottle as I watch the sights of the marina after dark. To be sitting in my most natural state - diapered - so close to the people around me and, yet so far... it's awesome.
Sorry that the pictures have nothing to do with diapers - unusual for this blog, my regular readers will tell you. Just imagine me - or, if you choose, yourself - aboard, thickly padded.
I love my vacation.
"Wish you were here!"
(In the third picture my boat is the one with the light at the top of the mast lit up; don't just show up, now, hehehe...)
