ode to compromise

As we proceed with our renovations, we always keep in mind that someday this boat will be our home. Anything added to the boat needs to look nice, of course, but it must also serve a purpose and most importantly must not not take up too much real estate. Sometimes we have to get creative to meet all these objectives, and sometimes we have to compromise. A good example of this is our choice of a salon dining table.

There was a table that came with the boat but it was not good. Not good at all.

For one thing it was too big and by "too big" I mean it was freaking enormous. In this "before photo" only one of the two leaves was extended--you can just imagine how cramped it was when it was in its full upright and locked position.

Also, it was butt ugly with a thick parquet wood top and massive pedestal with a telescoping mechanism to transform it from a huge, butt ugly dinner table to a huge, butt ugly coffee table.

Also, it weighed a ton.

Clearly it had to go, so we gifted the beast to our dock neighbor Mike who loves it and has it in a place of honor on his houseboat (Mike is a bachelor and thus can have a big ugly table on his houseboat if he wants one).

My husband decided we should replace it with a custom-made table with a beautiful inlay on the top and a sleek modern pedestal with a hydraulic mechanism to do the coffee table/dinner table conversion trick: something boaty, something cool, something like this*-------------------> 

But when I looked into the cost of having a table like that made all I could think of was this,  which pretty much took the fun out of the idea for me. 

But of course this boat belongs to both of us, and marriage is all about compromise, and if that's what my husband wanted I, of course, totally respected his opinions and ideas. ahem

So this is what I bought: a beautifully made drop leaf table with four chairs folded up inside, a side drawer for storing napkins and placemats, and brass casters on the legs for easy repositioning.

The moment I spotted it I knew instantly This Was It. I bought it on the spot, and like a lioness dragging a felled gazelle back to her pride, delivered it to the boat where I expected to bedazzle my husband with my creative genius and thrifty ways--after all, this baby cost several thousand dollars less than the table he had in mind.

What's not to love about that? I'm just saying.

However, my husband still had visions of custom tables with inlaid compass roses dancing in his head at the time and was, shall we say, underwhelmed by my purchase. He begrudgingly allowed it to stay--but only temporarily until we had time to design our real table. I merely replied "yes, dear" and waited patiently for the humble table without custom inlay nor telescoping pedestal to do its magic.

It fit perfectly in the salon across from the sofa and with one leaf extended is just right for four people. For a larger group we move it in front of the sofa and extend both leaves, and by pulling out the folding chairs inside we can comfortably accommodate up to ten people for dinner. 

And the leg casters that my husband so disliked (he had visions of a runaway table crashing around the salon while the boat was underway) just so happen to fit perfectly in the crack of a floor hatch and thus are locked firmly into position and keep the table in place even when the boat rocks about in rough waters.

And so our table began to get rave reviews for its cleverness and usefulness, and our boater friends came from far and wide to praise our ingenuity and creativity, and the unspent custom table money remained in our wallet and grew comfortable there.

And my husband's eyes were opened.  He saw the wisdom of my ways and began to appreciate the humble table without custom inlay nor telescoping pedestal and said it could stay.

See? I knew he'd love it.

*the gorgeous table photo taken from SeaStrike Marine a company that makes spectacular custom marine tables for men who are not married to cheapskates like me.