Previous Entry: The Offer
Miracles had unfolded. God was at work.
To our utter shock, and in an unimaginably short span of time, the biggest hurdles to purchasing Dean’s yacht had been removed. We were completely free of job or financial constraints in our pursuit of Dean’s “compulsion”.
I was even more shocked than Dean. Nothing and no one on earth could have convinced me that events would have transpired the way they did. It was clear to me that the hand of God was involved in what had happened, and that our path, for now, was clear.
Dean had gone back to work in early May, 2021, returning to New Mexico weekly. At every job he had had in his industry, because of his position, he was infrequently in an office and due to security protocols, rarely reachable by phone. Consequently, I primarily lived as if I had no husband. Absent his presence, by necessity it had been tasked to me to take care of all things “administrative” in our life. That meant nearly all paperwork, communication and logistics involved in running our household, our life; and in purchasing a yacht. That was fine with me - years of having to be “perfect” at dotting i’s and crossing t’s in a career handing multiple millions of other people’s money had trained me well. I ran a tight ship.
It occurs to me now that my former career in finance, real estate and banking, which included handling thousands of legal contracts, gaining a deep understanding of legaleze, constant diligence and a necessary habit of calendaring follow-up prepared me well to jump through the various regulatory, licensing, state, customs, immigration and contractual hoops to legally and safely manage Eclipse. Dean’s time as an engineer in the Navy and his expertise at solving complex problems would become the game changing skill that would get us through the most difficult challenges that Eclipse had in store for us. But always at the back of our minds was the reality that we did not know what we did not know. God had put us in all the right places with all the necessary experiences to perform the tasks we did not even know were in front of us. We already prayed daily for wisdom to deal with all of the multitude issues that would arise from our pursuits; owning Eclipse would put our prayer habit and dependence on God on steroids, which we clearly now understand was part of God’s plan.
In any case, the next step was clear: find a good broker to help us find Dean’s boat.
Unimpressed with West Coast representation and particularly for a sailboat, I began perusing broker bios on the East Coast where sailing is more of a ‘thing”. It occurred to me that finding a broker who had previously sold an Alloy Yacht would be very helpful, so I tailored my search to that end. I interviewed a few by phone before I came across Michael Bach of Denison Yachts. While he was working for Ocean Independence, he had listed SeaQuell, another Alloy almost identical to Eclipse, so we knew he was familiar with the quality we wanted. He was a very knowledgeable broker and experienced sailor from Florida who also managed major refits as Bacchus Yacht Services. His experience with refits meant he understood the costs of improving boats intimately and since we were looking at older boats, that was a skill that would be very useful for us. He checked all the right boxes and just as importantly, had a great sense of humor. In his bio, he admitted to being an English major and listed “Duran Duran” as his perfect yacht music. Those two facts sealed the deal. After a spirited introduction call, we tasked Mr. Bach with assisting us in our search. God again; it turned out we made a very good choice.
In that early part of June in 2021, Eclipse was not one of the vessels we were considering. I had decided she was not in the running. We looked at SeaQuell, still for sale, as well as a few sailboats in the ninety foot range. Knowing that we were headed to the Mediterranean, we also looked at vessels for sale there, thinking that maybe the expense of getting a boat from the U.S. to the Med, (not a small thing even if we just calculated fuel), would offset the higher prices we saw for boats there. We analyzed our options every which way; fuel cost, crew needed, distance, wear and tear, quality of build, builder reputation, hull material, chartered or not chartered, hours on engines and generators, speed, range, the date of the latest refit, age, amenities; we examined every consideration we could think of.
But nothing we found matched our criteria. And as I described in my previous post, Eclipse certainly did not match mine.
That month of searching all over the world left Dean and I frustrated, but along with frustration, we gained something else much more important: clarity. The most important question became “what is our mission”? The answer to that question would define the boat we needed and the boat we chose. Over the time we searched, what became crystal clear is that there were very few boats that would check all of our highest priority boxes and also meet the criteria for our “mission”; well, at least none in our price range.
Inevitability kept staring us square in the eyes. Dean blinked. I kept looking away.
But inevitability finally won the day - Dean wanted another look at Eclipse. But this time it would be with the help of a professional sailor, Michael Bach. Together, they attempted to convince me to allow her another chance. We had long discussions with Mr. Bach where he pointed out many positive features about Eclipse. Flummoxed by the lack of available boats for sale that fit our needs, I agreed.
It was at the end of June 2021 when our broker reached out to Eclipse’s listing broker, whom out of respect and kindness I will call “Bozo”, and requested a summary of recent work performed on her and the invoices for that work. (“Bozo” pulled quite a fete of misinformation and what I consider outright fraud on us, which will be explained in a later post. But for now, rest assured he needed a “live one”, and he found one in The Lobdells). He then forwarded those summaries to us, along with this message; “Yesterday I spoke with the Captain of Eclipse. It seems the boat never goes anywhere so a sock puppet could be the captain of Eclipse.” I had a good laugh, but we did not fully digest what that meant. In retrospect, it is obviously better we didn’t, or Eclipse might still be a dock ornament in Newport Beach and we would still be looking for a boat.
And so it began; possibly the strangest most implausible yacht purchase in all of recorded history.
What started as an impossibility financially and logistically followed by outright rejection, morphed into all possibility. Many hours of calls, discussions and investigations ensued, which culminated in mid July with the seller’s broker making a “shot across the bow”, a first move to initiate an offer which our broker read as possible desperation. Emboldened by the move, which according to Mr. Bach showed weakness, “he who contacts first, loses”, we were encouraged to make an offer on Eclipse. Having been busy sleuthing out all he could about her past owners and history, he felt confident we could make a good deal.
One of our sticking points was whether or not to sell our house. We debated and analyzed selling versus putting it up for rent. We considered short and long term rental, but there were many unknowns about the cost of renting a house that had such high carrying costs. With an acre of property in such a harsh environment, the cost of upkeep for the landscaping alone was fairly obscene. All costs associated with owning a house had skyrocketed due to the COVID lockdowns, but the costs of improvements; materials and labor; had increased by over 100% what they were the year before, and the ceiling of the price escalations and end to issues with the supply chain were nowhere in sight. In the end, the stress of being long distance landlords did not seem worth it. So after much debate, including trying to decide if we could balance having the house and upgrading Eclipse, we decided selling MY DREAM HOME would be the least stressful option available.
It was, for me, a bitter pill indeed.
So having made that decision, on August, 12th, 2021, we made our offer, contingent on selling our house prior to closing the deal.
And then waited.
The waiting was agonizing. A “no” answer was easy; nothing changed. A “yes” and my life would be turned upside down.
It was on August 17th, after five of the longest days of my life, that we got our answer. The seller countered - hard - raising the offer acceptance price by over 10%. According to Mr. Bach, the listing broker “Bozo” stated that our offer price was so embarrassingly low, (we based it mostly on the owner’s purchase price) that it made the seller “angry”. He, representing the seller, basically somewhat politely told us to f$#@ off and literally called us “flakes”.
So………back to square one…..but I breathed a sigh of relief. We kept our eyes open, checking for new listings almost daily. I did not tell Dean, but to me, it felt like we had avoided being on the Titanic.
Two months passed. A few more boats came to market, but still nothing that fit “The Mission”. During this time it came to our attention that if we were going to sell our house, it would be in our best interest to have our address and file taxes in a state where there was no income tax, as we were planning for retirement. Besides, I needed something more to add to my plate! We concluded that we should buy a property in Florida and I began looking for a property to purchase there, along with what seemed like half the country. But that is another story.
So that is where we were in mid October, when something completely unexpected and quite shocking happened.
Dean and I were in our bedroom, sitting on our bed, each of us on our computers. I was looking at boats for sale, Dean was watching YouTube videos about sailing. That night, something prompted me to look up Eclipse and see if she had sold, which I fully expected she had.
What I discovered almost knocked me off the bed.
I pulled up her listing, and not only had she NOT sold, but her price had been reduced to within $20,000 of our original offer. You remember; the offer that was so low, it “angered” the seller.
I sent an email with a link to the listing change to Michael Bach immediately; had he been notified of the drop in price?? Why hadn’t we heard about this??
Within minutes, although it was after 10:00 p.m. in Florida, my phone rang. I believe his exact words were, “what the f#@*?!! Do they want to sell this boat or NOT???” Honestly, I could not blame him. We were completely aghast.
So to make a long story short, a new round of negotiations ensued. On November 4th, 2021, a day that will live in infamy, all parties agreed to terms. Documents were signed.
Eclipse was under contract, and we, the “flakes”, were the purchasers.
Now, the real fun would begin: surveys.
We had an accepted offer and Michael, set to work arranging all the “experts” that would board Eclipse for hefty fees and then “expertly” give us reports outlining all the good and bad news. In her case, four different experts were needed: a general surveyor, an engine surveyor, and a survey of her rigging and sails. Rounding out the astonishingly expensive surveys would include an ultrasound of the hull, which required lifting her out of the water.
I have an inbox of over one hundred and fifty emails detailing the conversations and reports we received. I get headaches just thinking about them.
The culmination of all this activity was to take place on Friday, December 3rd in San Diego, California, when we would be hosted on Eclipse for a day of sailing and seeing how she operated. On board were to be our general surveyor, Bunker Hill, our broker Michael, our rigging surveyor David Servais, ourselves, as well as the crew of her owner and his broker, “Bozo”.
I remember all the Christmas decorations were up and the mood was festive at our huge waterfront hotel. Storms from the North usually hit in January or February, so being on the sea in December in Southern California can be a very pleasant affair. That day was no exception. For those unfamiliar with the Port of San Diego, it is the third largest natural bay in California. It hosts a huge Naval base with hundreds of ships, including several aircraft carriers as well as container and cruise ships. The Navy also keeps a submarine base there, on Point Loma. San Diego is home to some of the world’s most pleasant weather, which means that in addition to the Naval and commercial activity, there are also thousands of private boats and personal watercraft of every description. Consequently, the bay is fairly crowded with boaters even during winter months.
We awoke in plenty of time for our appointment, grabbing coffee and walking Boo, our faithful little furball, before heading down to the docks. Upon arriving at 5th Avenue Landing, we were greeted by the view of a towering 140 foot mast leading down to a vision of grace and beauty on the water; Eclipse. There were already eight people aboard, including a stewardess that greeted us with pastries and champagne.
As everyone assembled, we made our way down to the lower salon where our general surveyor, Bunker Hill, was combing over original drawings of Eclipse’s design. I sat down with him, knowing that my understanding of the boat was so miniscule as to be almost non-existent. At that time he was comparing the ultrasound readings of the hull to the original design. I asked him what he was looking at, and he looked up, and said, “How nice! It’s unusual to see a woman interested in something other than the pillows!” Hmm. Must be a standing joke in the industry. Then he proceeded to tell me that the hull thickness was virtually unchanged from the original specifications and in some areas, was even thicker than specified. He was impressed. I left him to his studies and went up top to see what activity was happening on deck.
Dean was chatting with Michael, our broker. There was a beehive of action around me; the captain was barking out orders as bodies scrambled all over the boat. The crew was tending to lines, the generator was started and before I knew it, we were untied and backing out of the small space. Eclipse was expertly guided out of the small docking area, assisted by the fore and aft thrusters. In what seemed like a moment, we turned right into the main channel and headed towards the harbor entrance.
The harbor was, as I had expected, not overly crowded that December Friday morning. We were greeted by a few small sailboats, some brave jet skiers, and the military police in large inflatables flying through the channel at stupid speeds - because they could. A marine layer hovered over the water and out over the first couple miles of coastline at a height of about five hundred feet, making the sun look like a dull, cold spotlight through the clouds. Everyone was wearing long sleeves and jackets as the light winds brought with them a deceptive but down to the bone chill after blowing over the 55 degree water. As we headed north, more orders were barked by the captain into small handheld radios to crew stationed at the bottom of the mast and the genoa; the mainsail was being raised.
Eclipse has a performance mast made of carbon fiber. It is curved at the top. Because it is so tall and designed for optimal wind capture, Eclipse has a “vang”; an adjustable system designed to pull the boom down to better shape the sail; that has a massive hydraulic piston. On normal sailboats, if they have a hydraulic vang, it is about two inches in diameter. On Eclipse, the vang is closer to eight inches in diameter. Because the job of the vang is to shape the mainsail, it has to be at the proper angle to raise the main, after which it is adjusted for optimal sailing. I had no idea what was happening as the crew went about adjusting the vang to raise the main. All I understood was the care and attention with which it was being done.
I watched as the mainsail went up. By the time it hit the top of the mast, my head was angled at about 80 degrees. Once the main was raised, we turned left and cruised by Point Loma as we headed to the open sea.
I was again walking around the interior of the boat. Again, I was very unhappy with what I saw. Dean wanted, for all intents and purposes, to live on whatever we purchased. Eclipse would be perfect for someone, but not for me. All I saw were upgrades and redos. She looked her age; not in a shabby way, but in the way that your grandmother’s house was in impeccable shape but in a time warp from fifty years earlier. Eclipse had too much fiberglass and gloss. Wrong colors. Not enough wood. Wrong layout. Aged; even if I could not see it, I knew there were many systems that new technology had long before made obsolete. We knew that when new systems had been installed, old ones were not removed. Things “behind the scenes” were messy and crowded: unorganized. I wondered about the analog systems and relays and the cost of upgrading an electronics system that contained miles of wires. The relay panels alone sent me into small panic attacks.
It was around 11:30 a.m. and the marine layer was beginning to thin, allowing warm rays of sunshine to wash over the bay. However, the winds were nearly non-existent, leaving us motoring out of the channel. Despite the fact that I did not want to own Eclipse, I was looking forward to sailing. Although everything seemed to be working fine, I was beginning to get feelings of disappointment, thinking that our trial run on this magnificent sailboat was going to end up being nothing more than a motored bay tour. We sat in the outdoor cockpit, watching the scenery; bored and uninspired.
Thus we waited for the ride to end. We were scheduled for another two and a half hours and it became clear that we would not experience any sailing on the sailboat. Our general surveyor, Bunker, was still studying plans below, while our rigging surveyor, David, sat with me on the forward deck, listening to the bellowing of arguing harbor sea lions and watching for dolphins or anything to break the monotony. Dean was talking to Michael, about what I have no idea, although he had spent time wandering through the cabins below as we were underway. He later told me that he was gauging noise levels and overall sounds below, something that would matter to us a great deal later.
Time passed.
I walked back to the cockpit to chat with James, the very kind and amiable captain whom we had met our first time on Eclipse the previous March. I smiled and looked at him, hands at the helm, and made a remark about wishing we had some wind. He did not answer me; unlike him; which caused me to look at him more closely. His jawline was set, totally focused on the main sail and his crew, eyes narrowed and wary. The expression on his face gave me pause. It became clear he was highly stressed. While when we met him prior, he had been conjovial and relaxed, but he now looked like a man with a gun to his head.
I remember thinking, “Wow. That’s weird. I guess he just wants everything to be perfect”.
The stew came from below and announced lunch. San Diego is a big harbor and it had taken a good deal of time to get out. We were all hungry and ready for a bite.
Dean, Michael and I grabbed our sandwiches and fruit and settled into the table in the upper salon. They are right inside the doors to the aft cockpit, which were open for the air and easy traversing from inside to out. I was just digging into my tuna when I heard the boat creak and groan; an unmistakable sound.
Wind.
My head, as did Michael’s, snapped to attention. The captain and crew sprung into action. James immediately called out orders into his handheld to the crew on the bow; I heard the sounds of winches, the snapping of sail in the breeze; the genoa unfurling as the boat heeled. Food trays were already sliding off of the table in the salon as Eclipse sprang to life.
We were sailing.
I scrambled to my feet, abandoning my sandwich and adjusting for the deck tilt, headed to the cockpit seating. Dean and Michael were right behind. James killed the engine; the only sounds were the water slapping the sides of the hull, the crisp snap of the sails and the cackling of voices over the radios, although in the back of my mind I was curious why he left the generator running. As the sea breeze more earnestly caressed my face and the smell of salt air filled my head, I felt tears stinging my eyes; this was the experience we had dreamed of. The winds had come up suddenly but even at seven knots were more than ample to power the sail area of Eclipse. James guided her into stronger winds and before we knew it, Eclipse was cutting through the three foot swells at twelve knots. Like a hot knife through butter, she was doing exactly what she had been designed and loved to do. And it was heaven.
We were about a mile offshore, headed straight towards Point Loma. I knew we would have to tack and tried to pay close attention to the procedure. James, the captain, headed into the wind and began furling the genoa, (headsail), while the crew paid studious attention to the lines. I had never been on a sailboat that required the genoa to be completely furled before a tack. Most of my experience was racing and the loss of speed was tangible; something a racing boat could not afford to do. Once the genoa was in, he turned the boat and began gently unfurling it before we were once again headed out to sea on the opposite tack. In addition, all of the hatches over the winches were open with a crew member watching them studiously. I remember thinking it was so we could see how they operated, but the entire act surprised me and left me a bit puzzled. Was that how it always was to sail on Eclipse? Wow; what a production. I thought she was designed for one person to handle.
Questions.
James focused laser like attention to his task. Bozo, the seller’s broker, was stationed to his left, but strangely he was not looking ahead: he was facing aft and watching James like a hawk. We; Dean, Michael and I; all looked forward. Michael was sitting closest to the helm on James’ right, while Dean and I sat to the right of him. Everything was going perfectly, at least from our perspective. It was at this point that something happened which stuck with all three of us; as I write this, the memory is indelibly etched in my brain. It would be many months before our bewilderment over this, and many other things, would receive a full explanation.
Michael Bach, as I previously mentioned, is a very experienced sailor and has sailed around the world. As we were headed out on a starboard tack, he looked up at the sail and realized it was not optimally set to take advantage of the wind. It seemed very natural when he reached over towards the hydraulic controls to make a slight adjustment.
Right as his hand was settling on the joystick, we heard Bozo’s voice scream out “DON’T TOUCH THAT!!!”
Michael snatched his hand back as if it had been burned. None of us said a word; we just looked at each other in disbelief. Michael mumbled something under his breath and we settled back in our seats. It was then I turned to him and said, very nonchalantly, “we are not buying this boat.” He tightened his jaw, but said nothing.
The remainder of the “trial” passed without incident. We ended our day at the dock, then went off to the hotel bar to discuss our collective thoughts with Michael and Bunker.
The waiter brought us our drinks as Bunker took out his notes and Michael his. Dean was unusually animated; he analyzes things very differently than I do and had focused on things I had not. I was not quite sure what he was thinking but he seemed…happy. I, however, was looking forward to putting an end to ALL of this nonsense.
Immediately after the waiter excused himself, and avoiding my eyes, Michael looked straight at DEAN and said, “so, Deano, tell me your thoughts”. My brain issued an instant “uh oh”. Michael was not a stupid man and he went straight for the jugular.
Dean had already ordered his thoughts in a very logical, cohesive manner. He had a definitive list, the top five most important points: 1. Does she float? 2. Does she sail? 3. Do the engines work? 4. Do the systems work? and 5. Does Michelle like the pillows? Of course, for Dean, the answer to all of those questions was “yes” except for number five, the “least” important. With Bunker at his elbow, and Michael across from him, (here comes my cynicism), I watched two people who were going to be enriched by our purchase corral my husband and expertly give him confidence in his assessments of the answers to those questions, based on their “expertise”. At one point, Michael told Dean this, “Eclipse is like that property that needed a lot of work, and she is now two owners and millions of dollars of improvements later. All she needs is one more person to bring her to completion. She is a great deal.” I watched helplessly as I looked at my husband’s face, knowing that Eclipse was, in his mind, already his. I glared at Michael, (who had studiously avoided asking me anything about MY opinion), knowing full well that he knew exactly what he was doing. And I also realized I was toast. We had an “accept or reject” date within a few days and I heard Dean agree to sign it: accepted. As a Christian, as a wife and as a woman, I knew this was not the battle hill to plant my flag on.
Dean would have his boat.
Oh dear God; here we go.
To be continued…..