It soon became evident that, while our objectives were the same, our approaches were different. I usually knew within minutes of stepping aboard a boat whether I was interested or not. My strategy was a quick run-through, a "thank you very much" and then on our way if the boat didnt appeal to me. But no matter what boat we looked at Sandy would pull up floorboards, peer into bilges, admire a generator, dismantle the companionway stairs to get at the engine, study the control panel and discuss AC, DC, amps, volts, regulators, starters, inverters, stuffing boxes, refrigeration units and water makers. I thought it a waste of time to conduct a lengthy survey of a vessel that was obviously (to me) not under serious consideration. Then I realized that Sandys involvement with the inner workings of a boat was to him a bit like having an affair. It was a sensuous experience to see and touch the systems that moved a self-contained living space through the water. Talking about stern tubes, cutless bearings, shaft couplings and thru-hull fittings was a language of love. I began to think of the dialogue about injectors, batteries, pumps, fittings and electronics that occurred between Sandy and the brokers as "boatspeak." While I knew it was necessary to understand these things ultimately, I found them terribly boring topics and would wander about any given boat to see before all else if it met my criteria for comfort. I checked the head to see if it had a separate shower stall, and the bunk in the master stateroom to see if it was possible to rise in the middle of the night without bruising myself or my husband. I checked the construction of the headboard of the berth to see if it allowed for the proper stacking of pillows for comfortable reading in bed, and to make sure that lights had been installed for this purpose. Where would the computer go? Was the mast stepped on the keel -- through the middle of the dining table? I looked for bookcases or places to secure them, for wall spaces to hang art and a bulkhead heater.