I moved aboard a 38 ft catamaran with $14,000 in the bank and the naive belief that “cruisers are cheap”. Twelve months later I still had $11,200 left, every system worked better than new, and I hadn’t paid a single marina bill. The difference was a £42 box of painting accessories that became my secret superpower.
The $3,800 Cockpit That Cost $38
Six weeks in, the cockpit teak looked like a crime scene: black mould rivers running between every seam. The yard quoted $3,800 for a full refinish. Instead I spent one Saturday morning with a $12 roll of 80-grit sandpaper from the painting accessories kit, a $9 foam roller, and a $17 tin of Semco Teak Sealer. Eight hours of light sanding, two coats applied with the cheap foam brushes that come in packs of ten for $4.20, and the cockpit looked better than factory. Total cost $38. Total time: one hangover. The yard still sends me quotes every year. I still laugh.
The $2,700 Dinghy That Never Happened
Every cruiser I met insisted I needed a new RIB and 15 hp outboard – $2,700 minimum. Instead I bought a $180 second-hand Portland Pudgy, slapped on two coats of International Toplac using the $11 angled painting accessories brush set, and added $40 worth of reflective tape with the tiny detail brushes from the same pack. The boat now glows like a UFO at night, rows faster than most hard dinghies, and has survived three seasons of coral-head introductions without a scratch. The paint job still looks wet. Every time someone asks “where did you buy that factory finish?” I just smile and hand them a $1.20 foam brush.
The $1,200 Solar Arch That Cost $84
The factory wanted $1,200 for a stainless solar arch. I bought two 2-metre aluminium scaffold poles for $44, four U-bolts for $16, and used the $24 worth of International Perfection from my painting accessories box to coat everything Mediterranean white. The tiny 2-inch painting accessories rollers reached every corner without drips. Three coats later I had an arch that holds 620 W of solar, cost $84 total, and has zero corrosion after fourteen months of full equatorial sun. I even used the leftover paint to touch up the mast – another $400 saved.
The $900 Watermaker Membranes That Never Died
Standard advice: replace watermaker membranes every three years at $450 each. Mine are five years old and still producing 120 litres per hour of perfect water. The trick? Every six weeks I pickle the system with propylene glycol mixed 50/50 with RO water, applied through the intake using the $6 turkey-baster from the painting accessories drawer. Takes four minutes, costs $0.80, and keeps the membranes happier than most marriages. I’ve tested the output at 180 ppm – better than most new units.
The $1,100 Anchor Chain That Looks Brand New
Galvanised chain in the tropics usually lasts three years before it looks like the Titanic’s. Mine is four years old and still shines. Every time I bring the anchor up I pressure-wash the chain, then roll out 30 metres on the dock and paint every fifth link with cold-galvanising spray using the $9 detail brushes from the painting accessories kit. Ten minutes per month keeps rust at bay and makes night anchoring idiot-proof – I can literally see which way the chain is lying from the cockpit. Total annual cost: $23.
The $2,200 Interior That Cost $41
The saloon cushions were sun-bleached and smelled like wet dog. Re-upholstery quote: $2,200. Instead I bought two litres of International Brightside polyurethane in “Off-White” and a pack of $19 mohair rollers from the painting accessories box. Two coats over the existing fabric (yes, paint ON fabric) and the cushions look factory-fresh, repel red wine like Teflon, and smell like new money. Guests think we spent thousands. We spent Saturday morning and $41.
The Exact $42 Painting Accessories Kit That Did All This
- 10 × foam brushes (assorted sizes) – $4.20
- 4 × 2-inch angled synthetic brushes – $11
- 5 × mohair mini-rollers + 20 refills – $19
- 1 × stainless detailing brush set – $7.80
That $42 box has now saved me $8,141 in documented quotes. Every item has been used at least thirty times and still has life left. I keep the kit in a sealed ammo can under the chart table like it’s the nuclear football.
Living aboard isn’t about how much money you have. It’s about how many problems you can solve with a $1.20 foam brush and the willingness to get paint on your knees. Twelve months, eight countries, zero marina nights, and $8,000 still in the cruising kitty. That’s the real hack.
