EssayHow to prevent spending on the boat from becoming a constant source of contention at home

Steffi von Wolff

 · 29.04.2026

"Bills for moorings, insurance or winter storage. Figures that not only affect our bank balance, but also our relationship time and again.
Owning your own boat symbolises personal freedom, the most beautiful dreams and a way of life. In relationships, however, this passion is not always fully shared. Steffi von Wolff on strategies for avoiding arguments about the annual flood of bills in spring.

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It's the same every year between January and April: Bills, bills, bills. Yes, including car insurance, liability and whatnot, but above all bills for the boat. And there are quite a few of them. We know what I'm talking about: insurance, winter storage, polishing, craning, mooring, engine maintenance, mast fitting. Wonderful, absolutely wonderful. Especially because that's not an issue for my husband at all.

The envelope is lying on the kitchen table, inconspicuous, almost casual, but I still know exactly what's inside: an invoice. Mooring. Insurance. Or winter storage. Figures that not only affect our bank balance, but also our relationship.


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In our marriage and hobby, I am the one who can be described as a fellow sailor. Not that I don't like sailing, but I wouldn't go into shock if someone refused me. Another important aspect: I enjoy spending time with my husband. And for a long time I thought that the core of the problem was that I didn't share his hobby to the same extent. Today I realise that it's more complicated than that.

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One word leads to another

It's not just about different interests. It's also about fairness, about seeing the bigger picture, and it's also about how two people organise their lives together when their needs are not one hundred percent congruent.

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Our arguments always follow the same pattern, and I know very well that we're both making mistakes. I'm always the reproachful one: "Sailing is your hobby, I've been doing all this for ages and helping to finance it all, I can't see it anymore, it's my turn too, I could have a horse if we weren't on the boat all the time from March to November, after 25 years I think I have the right to think about myself, enough is enough...". And so on.

My husband: "Great. How are you going to go on holiday without a boat? Do you want to go on holiday to Mallorca/Sri Lanka/in a club hotel and lie on a sandy beach? Is that what you want? On a sandy beach! And then I lie there with you and look at the boats anchored further back. I see people jumping into the water, but I'm lying on a sandy beach. That's out of the question, I'm not going on holiday on a sandy beach!" Then it starts, one word leads to another, the argument is started. Shouting at each other. Accusations of guilt. Being annoyed. No solution in sight.

And who pays?

The fact is that sailing is not a pastime for my husband. It's freedom, identity, a balance to everyday life. And he loves his boat. It is sacred to him. He talks to it. I can see that. I even understand that. Anyone who has had this passion since the age of four is passionate about it. But I don't share it. That's why the bills are probably the straw that breaks the camel's back every year. Because I don't feel valued throughout the year. I go along with him living out his passion and I think he's ungrateful by taking it for granted.

But for me, the boat is not a dream, it's a factor. And a factor that is very present in our lives. Financially anyway, as I've already mentioned, but above all in terms of time and emotion.

At first I thought: It's just his hobby. Just like other people play tennis or take photos. I wanted to be uncomplicated, supportive and understanding. So I went along for the ride and tried to get interested. I've been involved for years. Of course, it's also nice to travel around the Danish South Sea, experience sunsets at anchor - the list of beautiful experiences is long. Nevertheless, there are the costs. Every year anew. For a leisure activity that is not mine. And who pays? At first glance, the question seems simple: the person who takes the initiative, right?

Dispute over expenditure stands for more

And this is exactly where the potential for conflict begins, according to Dr Ewald Piel, a psychologist in Singen: "If you assume that the needs of the household members are to be met from the joint income without a fixed budget, you can already guess the potential for conflict. The partner who withdraws less or considers the other partner's withdrawals to be a waste quickly feels disadvantaged." I've often felt the same way. The same discussion every year. Always more emotional, always more deadlocked.

Dr Piel therefore recommends a cost breakdown and a plan of who is responsible for what. Common goals are needed. Short-term, medium-term and long-term. And if incomes are different, the distribution of costs should also be flexible. At the same time, it's not just about money. Expert Piel emphasises that contributions such as housework, organisation or emotional support must also be taken into account. That was an aha moment for me.

Because we fellow sailors may have contributed less money to the costs, but we have contributed time, adaptation and often also sacrifice. Things that don't appear in any calculations, but still count. This needs to be discussed and taken into account.

Then, another important point: does the partner even want to sail with you? My honest answer is: Not always - and I'm certainly not alone in this. I often sail because I think that's what you do as a couple. When the weather is nice and the boat is moored, I even like it. I'm a fair-weather aunt. And because I want to spend time with my partner. Because I want to be part of it. It's a different story when it's stormy and the waves are grey. Then I want to go home to the sofa.

In the end, the relationship is often questioned

But this desire to belong is precisely where the danger lies. According to psychologist Piel, unspoken expectations may then become visible through defensive behaviour, aggression and questioning the hobby. And unfortunately, these typical behaviours are not particularly constructive. The other partner quickly feels backed into a corner and forced to take up a defensive position, accusing the other partner of disloyalty and other things. Unfortunately, conflicts escalate if they are not actively dealt with. In the end, the relationship is often questioned. "Then why don't you split up?" I often said to my husband during arguments. "Then you'll have to find someone who will go along with the whole thing." Not very helpful, that sort of thing. But neither are the answers.

Dr Piel: "The main thing that helps here is being true to yourself and, in the case of ingrained, stressful thought and behaviour patterns, the support of a psychologist. However, I know from experience that people usually go to a psychologist late, often too late."

If an interest is not really shared, but rather supported out of relationship expectations, an imbalance can easily arise. One person lives their passion, while the other often takes on the role of a helper. And this role is rarely perceived as equal. I have often felt the same way: involved, but not really recognised. Many conflicts are not loud, but diffuse. Sometimes an annoyed look. An ironic comment. A retreat when someone complains that a lead wasn't thrown fast enough. "Why don't you do your own thing, I'll go below deck!" A favourite phrase of mine.

Signals are rarely constructive

As Dr Piel writes, unspoken expectations often show themselves indirectly: through defence, through criticism, through questioning the hobby itself. The problem is that these signals are rarely constructive. The other person feels attacked, goes on the defence - and the real issue remains hidden.

It took me a long time to realise that there was something else behind my anger: the need for equality, for co-creation, for real participation. And that I had never clearly expressed this need.

In theory, it all sounds simple: stay objective, formulate needs, don't generalise. In practice, however, it is often difficult. Especially when it comes to emotionally charged topics such as money and lifestyle, the factual and relationship levels quickly become blurred. A sentence about costs suddenly becomes a statement about appreciation. Dr Piel refers here to basic communication principles: Observation instead of judgement, concrete instead of sweeping statements, clear naming of needs. For example, a sentence such as "That's far too expensive!" has a completely different effect to a sentence such as "I realise that this expenditure is unsettling me because it jeopardises our financial security, which is important to me." The difference lies not only in the words, but in the attitude behind them.

Plan time just as consciously as money

We are tackling this now. A crucial point for us was the realisation that real solutions can only be found if both partners have freedom of choice. As soon as pressure arises - be it through accusations or expectations - the fronts harden.

One option that definitely works for us is the clear separation of individual and joint budgets. We are now trying that out. Everyone has an area that they can decide on freely. According to Dr Piel, this not only creates transparency, but also responsibility. At the same time, we have started to plan time just as consciously as money. After all, it is also a limited resource. And, perhaps most importantly: I've accepted that I don't have to share everything.

Dr Piel puts it aptly: "Happiness in a relationship should come from several sources. Not one partner is solely responsible for this. Not every conflict can be resolved by compromise. If the fundamental attitudes are too different, it may make more sense to look for alternative solutions. This may mean that a hobby is no longer practised together - without the relationship having to suffer as a result. This idea was unusual for me at first. I had long believed that shared activities were a measure of closeness, but I now have a more differentiated view.

"Cash check" to keep an eye on expenses and time

Closeness is not created by doing everything together, but by giving each other space without losing each other in the process, says the psychologist. What also helps here is to consciously look back once a year. What worked? What didn't? Have our goals changed? The priorities? This works best after the end of the season, but before Christmas, when the impressions are still vivid and the last season can still be completed in the current year, so that the partners can start the new season unencumbered, with new vigour and lots of anticipation.

This "cash check" doesn't just concern money, but your entire life together. It prevents small disagreements from building up over the years. And it creates something that often gets lost in everyday life: conscious organisation.

So here we are. Our boat is still there and so are the bills. Yes, we're still discussing things, but in a different way. Less from the emotional situation, more from a common understanding. Not perfect, but more respectful. Because fairness in a relationship is not something that just happens. It has to be negotiated, time and time again. Between water and wind, between freedom and responsibility, between two people who learn that equality does not mean being equal, but rather taking each other seriously. And now I'll open the post.

Steffi von Wolff

Steffi von Wolff

Freie Autorin

Steffi von Wolff, geboren 1966, arbeitet als Autorin, Redakteurin, Moderatorin, Sprecherin und Übersetzerin. Sie wuchs in Hessen auf, lebt aber seit vielen Jahren mit ihrem Mann in Hamburg. Dank ihm entdeckte sie auch ihre Liebe zum Meer und zum Segeln. Ihre Erlebnisse hält sie fest in Büchern und in regelmäßigen Kolumnen, die Sie für YACHT und BOOTE schreibt.

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