Until recently, Lily Winston Churchill had a healthy level of catiousness about being on the boat.

She rarely ventured into the cockpit when we were underway, and ran for her bed when she heard the engine starting up. At anchor or a marina, she’d happily clamber around the boat, eating bugs, sitting on the bowsprit or napping under the dodger. We even got her to use the head. She was the perfect boat kitty.

But lately she’s become more comfortable on the boat, which is great — and more bold, which isn’t. A few times she’s jumped up to the side decks as we’re underway, prompting me to grab her and bring her back to the cockpit. (What if she falls overboard? We’ve already rescued her once, using a salmon net to scoop her out of the waters off Spencer Spit, and I wouldn’t want to repeat the experience.)

Worse, while she used to actually heed our admonishments not to jump onto the dock, she’s realized there’s a much larger and interesting area to explore once she gets off the boat. After she figured that out, it was game over. More than once I’ve caught her leaning over the side of the boat, getting ready to jump, and yelled at her not to.

And most times she’s completely ignored me, jumping off the boat and rolling around all spazzily on the dock, which always makes me laugh and makes it virtually impossible to be mad at her. Cats operate on instinct, and Lily’s obviously gotten the message that I’m a sucker for that sweet little face. Mommy = pushover.

Good kitty

Marty is clearly the better disciplinarian. One “NO!” or “Lily!” from him in a stern voice and she usually tears back to our boat with a guilty look, knowing he means business.

But not always. A few weeks ago we were in our slip at Elliott Bay Marina and watched as — despite Marty explicitly ordering her not to — she jumped across to Das Boot, the Bayliner next to us. Thankfully, the owners weren’t there as Marty climbed onto their boat, snatched up the intruder and gave her a time out in the kitty brig (aka the aft cabin).

Suddenly, Lily’s become the feline equivalent of a defiant teenager. Her inquisitive and outgoing nature, which I love, is a liability on a boat. If she manages to jump off Three Sheets without us noticing and goes roaming around the docks, we could quickly lose sight of her. Since cats are not likely to come running when you call, I can imagine her sitting out of sight in another boat’s cockpit, coolly listening as Marty and I run frantically around the dock, calling her name and wondering if she fell in the water.

Someone recently told me a terrible story about a couple she knows who were at anchor on their boat and suddenly couldn’t find their dog. And they never did.

Bad, baaad kitty

So there are legitimate safety concerns, but also, it’s a bit obnoxious to find another person’s pet visiting your boat uninvited. She wouldn’t crap on the deck, but still. No one likes a party crasher.

I’ve been wondering what to do about this and how to get Lily to stay onboard. And then a solution presented itself. We were at a rendezvous at the Bremerton marina over the Memorial Day weekend with a dozen other boats, a few with dogs onboard. On Saturday afternoon, the boat owners stood on the docks chatting and drinking while the dogs chased each other around. I was in the midst of a conversation when out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lily inch over to the side of our boat and poke her head out under the railing.

Marty was down the dock, talking with someone else. Lily furtively glanced around. Seeing that no one appeared to be watching her, she made a break for it, leaping onto the dock. Within seconds, a big yellow Lab came tearing over at full speed, chasing a terrified Lily back onto the boat as I watched with amusement. The dog’s owner rushed over.

“I’m so sorry!” she said, mortified. “He doesn’t usually do that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I told her. “This is good.”

As the happy hour festivities wore on, Lily remained meekly perched under the dodger, her pale blue eyes as big as saucers. I checked on her periodically and she remained put, staying on the boat the rest of the weekend.

I’m hoping she learned her lesson, at least for a while. And if not, where there are boats, there’s usually a dog or two around.

About Deborah Bach

Deborah Bach is the editor and co-founder of Three Sheets Northwest. She is an avid sailor and long-time professional journalist. You can find Deborah aboard Three Sheets, an Island Packet 38, with her husband Marty and their cat Lily.

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