On being … just what we were both looking for
By Ingrid Sapona
The past five or six summers (maybe longer) I haven’t made much use of my sail boat because I usually sail with friends on their boat. I inherited the boat from my dad in 2001 and the club where I keep it isn’t that expensive. That said, given how infrequently I’ve gotten out on it the past many seasons, on a per sail basis, each outing is probably more than the most expensive day spa you’d ever find!
This year, after launching her I discovered a part of the furler broke. It was really unusual, but maybe water got in and froze over the winter, causing the metal to split. Ugh. The boat can be sailed, but I knew I’d have to do something about it and I imagined it’d be expensive.
As I was looking into options related to the furler, I started to think maybe this was a “sign”. Was this the universe (or my late father) tapping me on the shoulder, urging me to focus on the underlying question of whether it’s time to sell the boat. At first, I put that idea out of my head, thinking I was just frustrated at the unexpected expense. When I found out the fix was only a few hundred, it was clear that the cost wouldn’t be a deciding factor. So, I started to try to honestly assess the question of whether it was time to let her go.
The boat’s been in our family 40 years and my sentimental attachment to it weighed heavy in the equation of pros and cons. The only way I could bare the thought of parting with it is if I thought it was going to someone who’d enjoy it (dare I say love it?) as I had. But how do I find that person?
As 49-year-old boats go, I think she’s in pretty good shape, but she’s not turning any heads any more. I’ve maintained her, but I’ve not poured money into new sails or fancy electronics. And, at 25 feet, she’s almost small by today’s standards. So, hard to say if anyone would be interested in her at all.
After much soul searching, I decided I’d try to sell the boat. I figured if I didn’t find the right person, then next spring before launch I’d replace the furler and I’d enjoy her for another season. Though I think I had reasonable expectations, I had a pit in my stomach all the same.
I put up a “for sale” notice on the bulletin board of my club and a few other nearby clubs. I also mentioned it to friends, asking them to help spread the word. A couple folks suggested Facebook marketplace, which I’d never heard of. But, I found a boat buying/selling Facebook group that seemed promising and I submitted the listing for approval.
A few days passed before I logged back into Facebook. When I did, I found messages from two people. One person just had a question. The other person (Magnus, rather like a character from A Little Night Music) had sent me three messages. His first was that he’s a willing buyer with cash and a dock at a nearby club. His second was that he could come look at the boat any time. His third was, “Why are you ignoring my messages?” I wrote him back and assured him I wasn’t ignoring him – I just don’t check Facebook too often. I gave him my number and within an hour he called. He wanted to come see it later that day. I wasn’t ready to move that fast, so I stalled, agreeing to show him the boat later in the week.
Meanwhile, before I placed the Facebook notice, someone I used to work with expressed an interest. She and her husband and daughter were coming to see it the day after Magnus’ viewing.
Magnus was on time and enthusiastic. We chatted about how long the boat’s been in the family and he seemed to “get” my attachment to it. He walked around on the boat, thumping the deck here and there to hear how solid it sounded (I guess). I showed him the furler problem and I told him the costs I’d been quoted for fixing or replacing it and that didn’t seem to phase him. He kept saying what great condition it was in and how solid this vintage was. A few minutes later he sat down in the cockpit and said, “I really want your boat. I have cash with me. Let’s sign something and close the deal.”
I was definitely flustered at the thought – it was moving quicker than I could handle. I told him I needed to think about it. He cheerily said, “But this is exactly what I’m looking for. Come on – First Dibs!” Though that struck me as kind of a guy thing to say, it was endearing. I told him he didn’t actually have first dibs because someone else was coming to look and they were in touch with me before him. Besides, I was going to have to think about it in any event. I said I’d phone him in four days to let him know my decision. He said he’d continue looking in the meanwhile, and I assured him that was fine and I wished him luck with that.
The next day he texted to thank me and to say he appreciated my resolve. He also apologized for nagging and said he looked forward to hearing my decision. Two days later he texted to let me again, this time to let me know he did not buy the other boat he went to look at. I must admit, I was relieved to hear that, as the more I thought about it, the more I felt that same tapping on my shoulder, telling me Magnus was the one.
The next morning, I phoned him and told him if he promised to take good care of her, he could have the boat. Magnus promised and we made arrangements to meet that afternoon to sign the deal. He paid the asking price with no qualms or haggling and we talked about the logistics of him sailing it away. After we parted, he texted me to thank me again and he said he’d be happy to take me for a sail if I wanted to visit her.
I won’t lie… I feel sad closing this chapter, but I’m happy the ending I had hoped for came to pass. I think she’s in good hands and will be well loved…
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2022 Ingrid Sapona