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notes 46 Houseboatmagazine.com Stern notes from the In the wake of our existence are the stories of our lives. There are items many of us keep aboard our houseboats that might be considered simple conveniences to make outings more enjoyable, such as air mattresses on which to adequately sunburn, a blender for concocting delicious tropical drinks to regret later, and perhaps binoculars for appreciating the colorful fashion swimwear that often decorates the lake. Other things are absolute essentials, including a sufficient number of life jackets, several strategically placed fire extinguishers, and at least one Bob Marley CD. As everyone over the age of 25 knows, Bob Marley will get you through the dreariest day better than Sid Vicious will get you through the brightest. In the cabin of our houseboat is something placed there years ago as an afterthought when we were equipping The Phoenix. While we thought it might be a nice thing to have on board, it turned out to be our most prized accessory. I've come to believe no houseboat is complete without one. Originally costing just a few bucks, it now holds treasures beyond reckoning. I'm not talking about the candy jar or the beef jerky canister, or even the precious coffee pot. I'm referring to the guest book that rests on the small cabinet just inside, filled with the departing thoughts of friends and family members who shared so many weekends, vacations and holidays with us on the Phoenix. These folks are not poets, but their thoughts and feelings, recorded in their own hands, are a lyri- cal record of good companionship and sunny days—a chronological parade of memories. Sitting on the back of the boat with a cold beverage the other day, I read this amazing journal from cover to cover while Roxanne was working inside the cabin and I was not scrubbing the deck. I didn't stop reading until I had not cleaned the gas grill, not washed the windows, and not emptied the trash—although to my credit, I did empty several beer bottles while I read. This book goes back nine years, to a time The Phoenix was new to us. The first entry from our youngest daughter Shelly is scrawled with the pen of a precocious, sometimes lovable teenager. The most recent is scribed in the elegant hand of a sensitive, responsible married woman. Nine whole years, amounting to just a few yesterdays. Looking back, isn't it always that way? The guest book is not the only record of past houseboating adven- tures. We also have pictures. Through the miracle of digital photog- raphy, I have a thousand pictures or more documenting these same good times. It would take me an hour, maybe two, plus another minor miracle to find any particular image on my overloaded computer. Sound familiar? A few Labor Day outings were designated guy trips, and our good friend Jim from Baton Rouge compiled CDs especially for those oc- casions. In a folder aboard The Phoenix are records labeled Labor Day 2003 and Memorial Day 2006 featuring a broad mix of tunes, from Stray Cats to Dire Straits, from Hendrix to Heart. There might even be some Sid Vicious thrown in. These CDs provided the overture for all the laughs, all the barbecues, and all the card games. Playing any one of the collections now brings to mind the quips and jokes and jocular, male bonding crudeness, the food fit for kings but eaten from paper plates, and not least of all, the small fortune in quarters I've lost to so-called friends who so enthusiastically appreciate my lack of poker skills. I invited Roxanne on the first of the weekends we fellows had planned. When I suggested ways she could help with our boating enjoyment such as food preparation, drink serving and maybe some light cleanup duties, she suggested I was out of my mind. Actually, the suggestion she made does not bear repeating, even if it were physically possible to accomplish. So we guys were on our own. It was a good plan. But make no mistake; Roxanne is half the life and most of the beauty that is our houseboat. The enjoyable times she and I have shared with friends and family on The Phoenix are now recalled through the hand- written entries in our guest book, through the unorganized myriad of photos on my computer, and through the extraordinary music that underscores it all. Our good friends Carol and Norm from Colorado once wrote of their day on the boat, "Thanks for sprinkling joy in our lives." Other friends expressed similar sentiments. We answer, "Thank you for the friendship that brought you to share this boat with us, and help make it the living thing that it is. And thanks for filling our guest book with such remark- able treasure." Now the beauty of this boat says I should get off my stern and swab the deck, and my smartest answer is probably "Aye, aye!" Salty, ain't she? Until next time, My Best from the Stern, Ted A. Thompson Ted A. Thompson is a freelance writer living in North Arkansas. He can be contacted at tedthompson@windstream.net. Houseboat essentials house boat magazin