It’s been a goal of ours to change the name since we bought Tintas. Because the name of your boat becomes the metonymy for the people living on it, and because we were asked so many times “What does Tintas mean?”, (Ink) it became harder and harder to justify keeping the name the boat came with, especially when it meant nothing to us. So this week, the Tintas has officially and unofficially and well and truly become—The BlueBelle!
Renaming a boat requires a lot, but I’m sure our faithful readers didn’t expect any less. The paperwork from the French Coast Guard was not well recognized by the US Coast Guard, and the variations of how they write names and companies on official documents (that we had to have translated and certified) were so different, we ran into multiple road blocks. We decided to wait and rename Tintas once we were US Coast Guard approved, and we had an MMSI number. So we followed that path and registered the Tintas with the State of Delaware, and then the United States Coast Guard.
To start the official name change process, we had to submit paperwork to our lender to request a change, and have the actual name approved. After we obtained approval (that took a few months, they seemed to have forgotten about us until we complained), we had to request the name change to the US Coast Guard, and receive our updated Title. That was mailed to my parents’ address in California- and we wanted it in hand before we actually started on the cosmetic part of the change.
Luckily, my friends Becky and Dena were coming for a visit and were able to bring our updated US Coast Guard paperwork. That was one hurdle overcome- but now we needed to think a bit more creatively. How did we want our boat to look? We turned our attention to other boat’s names and fonts, as well as logo designs.
Paul and I are not graphic designers, and I’d certainly never try- but my best friend is one, so Samantha was able to step in with some advice, a treasure trove of fonts, and the ability to create the files we needed to send to a printer. She took what would have been an impossible job for us and made it her Tuesday night, and for that we are grateful. The printer had no problem taking these files and printing them onto vinyl for us.
Because we have more time than sense, we decided to do this final portion while at anchor in Marigot, Saint Martin. I started by peeling off the name and the previous registered port city off the transom (back of the boat). I used Goo Be Gone, acetone, and Bar Keeps Friend in succession with a plastic scraper until any remainder of the old vinyl was gone along with the top 2 layers of skin on my hands. I was able to do all this while standing on the back swim step, so I was fairly stable and protected from the wind, and I was feeling pretty cocky. The application of the vinyl on the transom went easily and quickly. I moved onto the port side.
I found fairly quickly that standing in a dinghy side tied to our catamaran, in the wind, with the swell and boat wake, and the sun shining down on me, that removing vinyl while afloat wasn’t as easy. This job took a bit longer because of the aforementioned hurdles, and because the vinyl was bigger. I was able to complete the port side in a few hours, with only a few hiccups. I applied the new vinyl using soap and water and my best guess at being level.
When It was time to repeat on the starboard side, I was pretty fed up. I had waited until the following day, and the wind and the swell had picked up. It might have been the adrenaline from the constant surprise of waves and being pulled back and forth on the dingy, stabilizing my body so I could scrape vinyl off in the sun, or the wind trying to blow all my supplies away, but I ended the job early and incomplete, in a pretty foul mood. Paul waited until the follow day to give a shot at removal, and found that what I said about the wind and the waves were absolutely accurate. Regardless of this, he attempted to apply the new vinyl by himself and spent a few stressful moments of panic watching our new boat name get crumpled in the wind, trying to apply evenly and without air bubbles- before I realized what was going on and stepped in to lend a hand. Four hands were absolutely necessary in the application of new vinyl while at sea.
So finally, our boat matches our paperwork. But we realized we couldn’t sail off without letting the big man know of the change. Ceremony and tradition in sailing culture are important, so we had a ceremony to let Poseidon know.
You’ll remember from our previous posts that we had already sent our anchor chain down to the depths with a champagne note attached, so I think he was ready for this, and I can say with glee that our first sail under our new name was a lovely 36 NM day sail to Saba, where we are currently moored. Sweet Success on the Bluebelle.
One day we’ll write more about why we chose BlueBelle, and some of the other steps we took to prepare our boat for the change, but I will say briefly that Paul and I have spent months if not years talking boat names. We have a list of names we’ve seen and loved, and point out names and fonts that are nigh unreadable every day. It feels really great to take this last step of ownership- our Lagoon 40, our beautiful lady, our Belle, our flower of the sea- The BlueBelle.
TIBURON MARINO 