The appointment to see Eclipse had been somewhat of a disappointment.
Our showing was for 2:00 p.m., Sunday, March 6th. The weather was cool; a typical blustery and partly cloudy March day; but when the sun managed to peek through the clouds, it smiled brightly, playfully hinting with bursts of warm, blinding beams that longer, sunnier days were on their way.
We had driven from Arizona the night before and stayed with my father in my childhood home in Newport Beach, California, just over a mile from where Eclipse was berthed. Although I would not fully recognize it then, I now believe her proximity to where I spent my childhood - learning about the ocean, boating, sailing, working on boats and eventually owning a few - was yet another sign from God that purchasing her was our inevitable destiny; and His will.
Dean was excited to see Eclipse; I had no such excitement. In the time leading up to and in preparation for our appointment, we researched her as well as other Alloy yachts and various sailboats in her class. We watched hours and hours of You Tube videos and sourced information about everything boats: insurance, maritime law, hiring and retaining crew, navigation, taxes, legal entities for ownership, chartering and expected expenses, to name a few. We scoured the internet for old media and history about Eclipse and her original owners. Our goal was to be as well informed as we could. We were determined to understand as much as possible and to ask pointed and relevant questions with the small amount of time we had on board.
Per agreement, we were supplied with and studied copies of multiple dozens of invoices for extensive yard work that had been done by her current owner. More than half of the invoices we received described repairs to specific items and systems of which we had no knowledge or understanding. Even after being on boats most of my life, and Dean’s time on a Navy ship, reading about substantial work done on, for instance, “marine gear” only left us wondering - what specifically was “marine gear”? We had no context of the term to even begin to understand what it represented; we just knew it was a lot of work, it sounded important and that it was very costly.
After putting together all the information we had, we estimated that nearly $3 million had been spent on Eclipse between her last two owners, including a substantial insurance payout. Surely, we reasoned, all the major and “expensive” items needing upgrading had been done. The listing brokers “brag” sheet included a new carbon fiber mast, (around $1 million), all new carbon fiber sails and new rigging; somewhat important, as she is a sail boat. She’d had a complete overhaul of her teak decks. Eclipse had a brand new Atlas shore power system, although we weren’t sure what that provided over the old one. She had new inverters, new battery banks…the list went on, much to our approval. It seemed Eclipse was almost a new boat. And although Dean understood a lot more about the repairs mechanically than I did, after reading about the descriptions on many of the invoices (his time as an engineer on a Navy vessel provided mechanical knowledge that far surpasses mine), he was just as perplexed as I was as to what was done.
We did glean a few important conclusions from our study - number one being never leave a boat in a yard without a full time project manager, otherwise the yard will rob you blind - but the scope of the work and descriptions of it on the invoices left us with more questions than they answered. Unfortunately, our Newport Beach broker was not interested in taking the time to get those answers. He had forwarded the invoices without even looking at them. The seller’s broker was just as bad; either he didn’t know anything himself, or he was being purposely obtuse. In retrospect, the lack of forthrightness about all the repairs done on Eclipse should have given us pause, but instead we saw everything through rose colored glasses - look at all the money spent that we won’t have to! All the shiny new expensive equipment! What rubes. Truthfully, to me, it didn’t really matter. Deep down I felt the whole thing was just a boondoggle; a crazy idea dreamed up by Dean to give his brilliant and unrelentingly curious mind something to play with. Although Dean wasn’t aware of it, I wasn’t serious about Eclipse at all. I just went along to make him happy.
(Ah, truisms; we do need to give them more heed. “Hindsight is 20/20” certainly applies here. Despite our best efforts, and although we felt we had done a pretty good job at “due diligence”, we know now that our attempt at an Eclipse “education” was wholly inadequate and without vital necessary context. The adage of “you don’t know what you don’t know” applied to her on a gargantuan scale. In the end, even after all our preparation, what we started out knowing; nothing; left us at the end knowing…..next to nothing. In all our dreams and schemes and romantic notions of what it would be like to own a vessel as amazing as Eclipse, we could not even fathom what she would require of us as her owners.)
So while all of this information motivated and excited Dean to learn more, it left me feeling inadequate, unprepared, and not just a little bit stupid. I also grappled with another emotion I am fairly unaccustomed to feeling: intimidation. But we had prepared as best as we could and arrived at The Balboa Bay Resort, where Eclipse was berthed, at our appointed time.
We were then informed that after having nearly two month’s lead time, the broker that we had chosen to represent us was not only showing up late but had to leave early due to an “engagement.”
Not an auspicious beginning for us. And definitely the end of him.
Nevertheless, Eclipse was a delight to the eyes as we walked down the gangway to the docks. She was a true beauty; her grace, lines and silhouette seemed to shout her prowess and ocean going abilities. Although for Dean, Eclipse represented a big engineering playground, climbing aboard her for the first time was surprisingly emotional for me. Everything I loved about boats and boating flooded my memories and body simultaneously. She was impeccably clean, of course. Her bright work blinded my eyes in random stabs of reflected sunlight, like tiny swords of white flame burning my pupils. Her dark blue hull reflected the diamonds off the water; jumping to and fro, laughing and teasing, exploding like tiny sparklers off her sides. I could see nothing but the glaring white of the sun when I tilted my head all the way back in an attempt to see the top of her massive 150 foot mast. Her teak decks, in perfect condition, had been warmed in the sun and the aroma was intoxicating; their pungent pine-like scent enveloped me like the embrace of an old friend. Smells have a stronger link to memory and emotion than any of the other senses; that day, the scent of the warm teak, the sound of the water slapping against the docks and the smell of the salt air awakened incredibly happy memories from decades before. They tumbled all around and inside me, assaulting my emotions. I was thrust instantly back in time to the precious and fleeting years when my children were young; I could hear their laughter, a child’s playful scream and the noise of the crowds on the street in Avalon. I could smell the suntan lotion I liberally applied all over them despite their best efforts to avoid it. I could see their blond heads and feel their tiny bodies as they tried to wriggle from my grasp and run into the water. I could feel sand between my toes and smell hamburgers and the sickening sugary sweetness of baking waffle cones. I felt the heat of the sun on my head and shoulders, burning my feet as it radiated off the sand. We were jumping off the boat; I could feel the shock and hear the splash of hitting the cold, clear waters off Catalina Island. All these memories hit me in one huge rush of emotion: I felt tears sting my eyes but I blinked them back, forcing them to obediently remain in their sacs, as now was not the time for flights of melancholy. But in that moment, all of my love for my children and for boating and the ocean came flooding back to me in a euphoric hit of pure joy. It was so good to be on a boat again, even if it was only for a few hours. I stood there on the deck, surveying my surroundings as I pulled myself together before entering the salon.
Upon entry, that emotional moment disappeared quickly. My first impression of her exterior made the rest of the tour of her interior somewhat anti-climatic - to the point that I don’t remember anything that stood out, or what questions we asked. Dean spent time in the engine room - a place I was resolved never to go - while I was relegated to staterooms, heads and the galley. I do know that we got a very limited amount of information about Eclipse from either broker. My opinion of boat brokers was pretty much cemented that day and it was not a high one. The unfortunate captain, also aboard that early afternoon, was left alone; forced to stay and answer our questions, as, unbelievably, the seller’s broker also had a “previous engagement” and had to leave. After a short time, it was clear he was choosing his answers to our queries very carefully. I remember realizing this and wondering; is he shy? Uncomfortable talking to people? I felt a strong sense of unease with the way we were dealt with that day; a small, nagging voice kept saying “something isn’t right”, but what did I know? I had never looked at a used boat before from a buyer’s perspective. Maybe what I was feeling and experiencing was totally normal, or maybe I was so detached from owning her that my emotions were playing tricks on my mind.
Her interior was in good shape, but very badly in need of updating. A previous Asian owner had decorated her in “lucky” reds, and although I may have tolerated red in a house, on a boat, I loathed it. She looked very 80’s; very Patrick Nagel. I am old enough to remember when he was a “thing” and I hated the look even then, with all the shiny lacquer rounded edged furniture, accents and upholstery in black and maroon leather which had been all the craze. Eclipse was all rounded edges and cream colored lacquer with very little wood. I love the traditional maritime look; wood paneling, blues and whites, overstuffed chairs and nautical maps. An overhaul of the interior alone would cost a fortune, and I could not live with her as she was. And although we knew Alloy built impressive boats, she had been built in 1991. Technology had come so far since then…she was thirty years old and the electronics did not look updated; they were proprietary and the company was out of business. How would she measure up to a boat fifteen years newer? With everything I looked at, I could hear the “ka-chings” going off in my mind. We just didn’t have the kind of money that would allow me to transform Eclipse into the boat of my dreams, and I was not interested in her as she was.
Consequently, the last of a long list of reasons why Eclipse was not in our future was confirmed with our little “tour”. Her interior was not up to snuff, and her conversion to what I would be happy with would be expensive. She was 30 years old and no doubt needed a lot of attention and upgrades. We had read that finding good crew was difficult and expensive; we knew no one, had no existing crew to bring aboard, and it would take months to adequately train anyone who came to work on her. Another big sticking point - I was unsure of our ability to afford her carrying costs. It would be a lot. So many unknowns. Lastly, Dean had been bid on a job in Idaho that required a three year commitment. An answer was expected in May so there would be no toying with even the idea of an offer until then. And, because I had declared I would never move again, (how God laughs), I was certain his company would win. Therefore, this was all just fun and games.
When we left that day, in my mind, Eclipse was a very firm “no.” It was actually a relief to know that all the issues with Eclipse, whatever problems she had and expenditures she required, would never be ours to deal with. We had a fun little jaunt to Newport, saw my dad and had a nice dinner, then off we went, back to Arizona, with little thought of ridiculous offers or sailing around the world.
Interestingly, our thoughts about Eclipse were one of the few times in our marriage that Dean and I completely diverged in opinion. Although he didn’t say it, I knew he was still considering Eclipse quite seriously, while I was thanking God he had placed all of those huge barriers to her purchase in our way.
So it was quite a surprise when only a few weeks later we got the shocking news - Dean’s company had lost the bid in Idaho. Dean was now free from any commitment for his job.
Oh my. That was unexpected.
This is the point where I have to interject some history and acknowledgment of God’s obvious hand in all of this, as well as some necessary context for what happened next.
Dean and I have never “chased” wealth. Becoming rich has never been a priority or a goal for us. Dean has had a rewarding career and we have been very comfortable, but we were never “rich,” nor did we care to be. I was a private banker and witnessed personally that for many people, acquiring wealth brings with it more problems than it solves. We had always been content with what God has blessed us with.
In early 2015, we took stock of our financials in order to plan for Dean’s retirement. We had been careful about our investments, looking for modest growth, and the market had given us a decent return, but it was not enough to give us any real financial security should one or both of us live into our 90’s. Health care costs were skyrocketing, and my health care would be very expensive. (Dean has 100% VA coverage for life). Dean was nearing 60 and wanted to retire no later than 62, so our time to solidify our retirement was running out. When we calculated inflation, living costs, healthcare, our plans, and the funds we would need, we realized that he would need to work until he was nearly 70 to save as much money as we would require. Between the 2008 financial crisis and each of our divorces, we had lost a large amount of accumulated assets and had been set back financially by decades. This did not sit well with either of us; having married later, we were looking forward to living a retired life making up for the time we had not been together, traveling and spending time with our kids and grandkids until old age or ill health required us to stop. There were many things that we hoped to do, but our retirement funds were going to be an issue if they did not grow substantially. This reality was ever in the back of our minds.
With that as a backdrop, during a vacation in the Virgin Islands later that year we both read Elon Musk’s biography by Ashlee Vance. We knew next to nothing about the “quixotic” founder of Tesla - the only thing we did know was that our youngest son, 16, had encouraged us to buy one of his cars the year before, which was the first time we ever heard the name of the company. Dean, having had dreams of being an astronaut, was particularly enthralled by Musk’s building of SpaceX and the arrival of a uniquely American private space company. Reading his story, we were both very impressed with him- his drive, his determination, his brilliance, his work ethic and especially his vision for both SpaceX and Tesla. Neither of us could remember ever having been so impressed by the story of a CEO and entrepreneur. On the same trip, I read the biography of Richard Branson; and although he has also been very successful, his story was flat and uninspiring compared to Musk’s. Branson is an opportunist, not a visionary. In any case, the thing that really struck me after reading the book was the absolute certainty I felt that Tesla was going to be a massive success; so much so that after I finished it, I looked at Dean and made this pronouncement: “Tesla is going to be the most valuable company in history, and Elon Musk will be the richest man in the world.” There was literally not one doubt in my mind. Dean did not disagree. I now believe that deep assurance was sent to us by God, which made it easy to make the decision that followed.
When we returned home, we decided to take all of our retirement savings and invest it in Tesla. Every investment advisor in the country would have told us we were insane to take such a huge risk at our ages; and no doubt they are correct. But we believed in Musk and realized that if anyone could turn an upstart fledgling car company into a huge success, it would be him.
For five years, the stock languished, almost completely flat. People who knew what we had done held their “I told you so’s” for the most part; at least one could not and told Dean straight to his face that Tesla would be another Delorean. Wall Street all but ignored Tesla - no one had started a successful car company in over one hundred years, so there was no danger that Musk would be successful, at least in their eyes. What was reported about Tesla was mostly shared with derision for the founder, his methods and his vision. We, however, never wavered in our faith in our investment - even when, during what Musk now calls “production hell”, the company came very near bankruptcy trying to ramp up the Model 3. But despite everything stacked against it, behind the scenes, in a completely unconventional manner that the established investment community in New York was unable to understand, Musk was working like a man possessed growing his little car company into a world wide phenomenon.
Finally, in late 2020, it seemed that Wall Street and investors noticed what was going on at Tesla. The world’s move to electrification was all but sealed with first world governments passing laws that mandated the shift to electric cars - and Tesla was at the forefront of that shift.
In early 2021, shortly after our appointment on Eclipse, the stock really began to move.
And it kept moving - in fact, it was going through the roof.
We watched our investment climb until, in late April of 2021, we became, much to our shock and awe, multi-millionaires.
At the same time, the value of our house in Paradise Valley was also going through the roof. The value of a home with room to move was heightened due to the pandemic shutdowns. People locked in tiny apartments, working remotely, were tired of living in cozy prisons and wanted space. In May of 2021, our investment in our house, calculated by the amount of cash we put into it, had grown at a rate of over 300% in two years.
All of a sudden, Dean could retire; and Eclipse was not only attainable, but affordable.
It was, indeed, the “perfect storm”. All of this happened simultaneously - not long after, in Dean’s words: “God put this [buying a huge sailboat] on my heart. I have to do this.” Suddenly, all the necessary pieces that would make Dean’s retirement and purchasing Eclipse a forgone conclusion fell into place.
If not for all of this happening at once, Eclipse could never have been a reality for us.
So in a way that only He can do, in the space of a few critical months, God utterly destroyed every one of our barriers to buying Eclipse. He also destroyed all of my substantial objections, precisely in time to make an offer on the only sailboat on the West Coast that had the capacity to do all that Dean envisioned and that we could afford, and placed her literally right in my childhood “backyard”. God put everything in place in a manner that we could not have dreamed or imagined.
He made the absolutely impossible, possible.
I now realize that God knew that unless He removed all of my objections, I never would have gone through with buying her and going through everything that went with it. It occurs to me now that this entire situation and dream was not about Dean or his vision; it was about me. God loves His children and keeps His promises. In Matthew 7:9-11, Jesus said this: 9 “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? 10 Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? 11 If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” In 2005, the year I met Dean, I had made a prayer to God and I committed to doing relationships in a way that honored Him; in total obedience. I met Dean shortly afterward. I knew God brought Dean into my life, but I was afraid to marry him. We had only known each other for a few months; six weeks before he proposed. Everything about me said “yes”, and it seemed crazy that I could just know that we were perfect for each other; but that is how God works. All my friends and family thought I had lost my mind and made sure I knew it. On top of that, when I found out about his debilitating motion sickness, I knew we could never own a boat. That little tidbit of information was devastating to me; my one dream for the future involved boat ownership. A Duffy would have been enough for me. But knowing that God had brought Dean to me, I knew I had to accept His gift; so I prayed then that if it be God’s will, if I was obedient and married Dean, could I please at some point have a boat again.
It didn’t even occur to me that almost eighteen years later, God was delivering on my prayer, and using Dean to do it. Knowing that I would never do anything this harebrained, and that I would only agree to it if everything was perfect and only if it was Dean’s idea, God did it all.
So in May of 2021, after hours of prayer and discussion, after analyzing our finances over and over in an attempt to affirm our ability to pay for a boat like Eclipse on an ongoing basis, and after grappling with the fear and the physical, financial and emotional reality of what it would mean to do what we were proposing to do, I found a new boat broker.
Despite my best efforts, we were making an offer on Eclipse.
To be continued.