Show Me the Money

The little printed flyer, wrinkled from rain and faded from the sun was haphazardly taped to a flimsy card table covered in spare parts next to the boat. It told me I was looking at a 1966 Pearson Alberg 35. Hull #200. It proudly proclaimed that Anna Rita was “ready to sail” and was being offered at the “give-away" price of $5,500. Bold statements indeed. I tracked the owner down by phone and asked about the rudder. "It’s brand new, never been used and sitting in storage". I asked about the engine. "It worked last time I used it. But no guarantees". I asked about everything. The answers were exactly what I wanted to hear (of course). Some were a little vague. Honestly, it sounded like he really didn't know that much about the boat. But he told me he had moved to Alaska for the last three years, which is why Anna Rita had been stranded on the cold, hard ground all that time.

The next day, I found myself at my bank taking out a $2,500 loan against my car. I had made my final payment on the car the previous day. Sometimes, the timing just works out that way I guess. So I had just finished paying off my car, and not 24 hours later, I converted my car payments into boat payments. I had the rest of the money saved up. Undaunted, and cash in-hand I hit the road and made the four-hour drive to Bayfield, WI. The previous night I had typed up what I thought was a reasonable purchase agreement. This turned out to be a bad decision, but more on that later. 

I met the guy. This guy had a story. He was living in a camper-van next to the boat. Going through a divorce, with nowhere else to live and currently unemployed, he needed the cash in a bad way. It was a hard-luck story. I felt bad for him. I got the sense he thought the boat was worth twice what he was asking, but he did not have the time to wait for the right buyer. In a way, I sort of felt like I was taking advantage of a guy who’d fallen on hard times. I was fine with that.

We signed the agreement, I handed him an envelope containing fifty-five $100 bills. We shook hands. And that was it. I had just bought my first boat. I still get that butterfly feeling in my stomach when I recall the moment. We celebrated with a few cocktails. I think he was celebrating more than I was... which made me nervous. I guess that old saying must be true about the two happiest days of a boat owner’s life:  The day he buys a boat and the day he sells it. 

That was it. That was the moment my life changed forever. I was no longer on the sidelines. I was in the game. I was excited, nervous, anxious and proud. I had done it! 

I was a boat owner.