beneath
a surge of sentiment as you fall in
love with the little things all over
again … your carefully calculated
hammock spot and well tested fishing
possy, the dear little dinghy, the
valiant fully batoned main and sweet
self tailing winches … the gorgeous
new Jabsco toilet that you lovingly
installed one rainy day in May … Even
the most unlovely experiences are suddenly
rendered in sepia with a vaseline blur.
The fact is - your boat will probably
never have looked better than when
its actively FOR
SALE, ironically making
the heart grow fonder just when it
should be moving yonder!
The guilt factor can also be immense as you realise
how diligently ‘slack’ you’ve been. ‘If
only I’d cleaned the mud out of the anchor well corners
more regularly … or taken the time to find a skewer
and wipe the innermost recesses of the window grooves….’ Of
course, this critically insane level of thinking lasts only
as long as it takes for the dollar signs to properly form
in your mind. If the offer is realistic, it’s wise to
act fast as any number of variables can change your buyers
mind in an instant. Boatyard or yacht club banter, financial
reassessment, even the weather or marital dilemmas can sour
the dream quickly - and permanently. Once the offer is accepted
and deposit actually lodged, a commitment has been made and
the possibility of withdrawal greatly lessened.
With the imminent sale truly underway, your gushing
affections and wistful guilt give way to a strange brew of
excitement - and apprehension. The excitement comes in waves
as your imagination surfs new possibilities before falling
into troughs of melancholy … ‘But …what
shall I do? Where shall I go …?’ you lament,
weeping on the back deck like some scene from a sailing adaptation
of GONE WITH THE WIND. You may have some vague idea
of a replacement boat or land based dream home but due to
the fog of variables involved in selling, you haven’t
wanted to ‘count your chickens’ (or sails!) Basically,
you have no idea what you’re going to do or where you’re
going to go and frankly, nobody seems to give a damn. Visions
of yourself sitting beneath a tarpaulin on some city beach
surrounded by obelisks of sailing gear, cooking utensils
and pilot books crowd your mind before the alternate mirage
of a luxury motel takes over.
This extreme, (though exquisite), option would undoubtedly
eat away at your boat sale booty like the most ferocious
of toredo or sinister osmosis until you end back up back
under the tarp again anyway - broke. ‘Cruise’ mode
is eventually engaged and the usual logic prevails, ‘ … oh
well … hopefully …I guess maybe something’ll
probably happen I s’pose … ‘
What IS definitely scheduled to happen is your boats
survey. The gale of emotions you’ve been enduring has
dragged your attention from one ultimately deciding fact
- the sale is subject to this final perusal. If the survey
doesn’t unfold favourably, the deposit will dissolve
like a mirage and you’ll be left emotionally bruised
and physically exhausted, glumly admiring the gleaming corners
of an anchor locker and sadly sharpening the skewers for
another round of window rim gouging. So then - the abject
fear sets in.
A flurry of aimless action ensues as every crevice
of every sparklingly clean bilge is examined, engines scrutinised
and hulls spit and polished - yet again. The SURVEYOR looms
like an extremely nasty ogre made even more threatening by
way of his extremely high standard of … surveyness.
It’s going to be HIM against YOU with THE
BOAT in between. Maybe some mood music should be garrisoned … some
aromatherapy other than eau de stale bilge … perhaps
a few well placed plates of nibblies …and a cold beer!
The last time you expended such energy in anticipation of
someones arrival was for Santa in 1965. ( when even the beer
and nibblies failed to score you the bike you wanted!)
Anyway, when the surveyor turns up he looks surprisingly benign. Almost Santa
Clausish, toting a little bag and smiling as he goes through the standard niceties,
even commenting favourably on your innovative BBQ cover ( …is that a raincoat…?)
or handcrafted mackarel reel. (‘…what a brilliant utilisation of plastic,
string and gaff tape…’)You wonder what you were worrying about - until
he brings out the Stanley Knife. And magnifying glass. And starts making ‘Mmmm’ noises
interspersed with weird clucking sounds as he starts to tap, twist and turn things.
Tiny repairs or flaws to the hull are examined thoroughly. If only you’d
used West System instead of car bog, Sikaflex rather
than chewing gum … The questions fly as you follow His Surveyness around
like a shadow. ‘Mmmm …so what happened here?’ he asks, ‘Cluck,
cluck, cluck … My God. Car bog…. Mmm, cluck - What the hell is this?’ The
knife is used Zorro style in the relentless search for dreaded osmosis or more
hasty ‘repairs’. All senses are used by the surveyor to assess your
boat, including taste and smell. You never realised a slimey hull could offer
such a feast of touchey/ feely investigation. His palate is attuned to the slightest
taint of fibreglass - he could tell salt from fresh water blindfolded, probably
specifying anchorages you’ve frequented in the process. His olfactory nerve
is a well trained tool. (What does fresh water or 10 coats of anti foul smell
like anyway?) At times he even appears to engage a sixth sense, spookily
profiling the hull history like a salty psychic. As the survey turns into more
of a surreal surgery, you remember there’s another interested party shuffling
behind you, namely - the purchaser. At times you feel like turning around, throwing
your arms in the air and declaring ‘Well - that’s it then. The hull’s
horrific. No boat sale. Everyone go home. There’s no more to see here. Move
on, move on…’
But the purchaser is as keen as you are for a positive
report, perhaps more so as he’s had to pay for the whole
experience! He’s 95% sure he wants your boat and as
excited about buying as you are selling. Once you accept
the purchaser as friend not foe and maybe share a sympathetic
smile, you can return focus on pleasing The Surveyor who
has just scrambled topsides brandishing a mega torch and
folder. ‘…long time since I’ve seen such
an immaculate anchor locker.’ he comments as you
standby smugly. ‘ … these bilges … is that
Ocean Meadow by Aromaboat or Simply Sycophantic by Yacht
So Smellee?’
He refuses the beer initially but an hour in the sweatboxes of engine rooms,
bilges and cupboards weakens his resolve. As long as everything works and no
suspect wads of chewing gum or Stop Leak have been evident, the surveyor can
now deliver his verbal report. Expect the worst and hope for the best. Nibble
nuts nonchalantly and smile confidently. There’s no more you can do. In
just a couple of minutes the last stage of your sale, (bar the money!) will
be complete - one way or the other. You’ll finally have some idea what lay
ahead, whether surfing a new adventure, returning to Stage One of the Psychology
of A Sale or keeping your boat and messing around with a few repairs
to …repairs! Either way, you’ll have yet another voyage behind you
and a whole new set of interesting entries to log to experience.
SECURING
A SALE … Tips
from Emultihulls Brokerage
1) Be
realistic in your selling price.
2) Present
the boat well. Remove ‘junk’, make bunks and
generally springclean. (anchor lockers and windows included!)
3) Make
any necessary repairs and ensure the boat is to sailaway
standard with everything working.
4) Be
clear in your resolve to sell and avoid procrastination.
5) Accept
all broker referred ‘lookers’ and be prepared
to change plans accordingly.
6) Prioritise
jobs in order of importance and avoid ‘aimless’ action.
7) Leave
the broker to communicate with the buyer and avoid interference.
8) ‘Yacht
So Smellee’ is not a priority but any form of PLEASANT ‘BoatAroma’ may
help the cause!
9) Have
relevant documents and records on hand for survey.
10) Surveyors
are professionally qualified, objective people who may
or may not like beer. ( or look like Santa)
11) Be
patient and don’t be disillusioned if your boat
doesn’t suit the first prospective buyer that comes
along. As the saying goes …’there’s a
buyer for every boat, it’s just a matter of finding
them…!’ |
