I Refuse to Sleep on Top of an Outhouse!

A few years ago, we purchased a 22 foot, 1977 Sea Ray hardtop for next to nothing.  Old, yes.  But, to own a boat that was built the year we graduated from high school, and one so unique, was something we had to have.  The teak wood was so well cared for.  The fridge needed to be replaced, but everything else was on point! We waxed her right away, which proved precarious walking on the bow!  My dogs kept sliding off the sides! I had to teach them to stay on top of the deck hatch to enjoy the scenery! The only problem with our beautiful new vessel was the toilet. It was housed under the bed. This seemed to make some logistical sense as it’s the only place on the boat that can be completely closed up. Private. But, the thought of sleeping on top of my own poop (or G-man’s more importantly!) was severely disturbing.  An immediate redesign was necessary.  Before any crisp white sheets or fluffy feather bed.  Or cozy blankets and high-loft pillows.  The outhouse had to go out of the house! To the marine store before our maiden voyage.  The G-man got rid of any evidence of the “latrine” post-haste. “Don’t let me see it”  I screeched.  The mere idea of it made me dry heave!  My wonderful man positioned a brand new, smaller “throne” at the aft under one of the seats. Pushed all the way back under the seat to avoid any visitors eyes […]

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