Breaking up with Monica
A boat’s history determines its fitness for its next missions.
Location: 30,000 ft over Florida
Conditions: Smooth flight back to Denver
Situation
I spent the last couple of days surveying Monica, the Alubat OVNI 395 I had under contract.
After reviewing what the survey revealed—and what it couldn’t—I decided to walk away.
Observation
The survey confirmed that the boat had been well maintained by her current owner. No major red flags surfaced.
And yet, as the inspection unfolded, I found myself feeling increasingly uneasy about moving forward.
Action
While waiting for the formal reports from the rigging and systems experts, I began listing what I liked about Monica, and what concerned me.
I framed this analysis within the context of the sailing I intend to do—not in abstract terms of “good boat” or “bad boat.”
The question was simple: Is this the right boat for me? Will she support the missions I have in mind?
Result
Monica is a twenty-year-old yacht shaped by the ambitions of two previous owners.
She spent her early life sailing the southern coast of England. Later, she was shipped to Florida for an extensive tropical refit: new systems, new comforts, new priorities.
After two decades of evolutions and adaptations, she is no longer the boat that left the Alubat shipyard. She has become a different boat, with a distinct identity shaped by the projects she served.
At first, I was impressed by her modernized systems and her overall condition. She is a beautiful, well-cared-for boat.
But when I considered my own goals, a different picture emerged:
She is in the wrong place. Bringing her back from Florida to Europe would consume a year, significant money, and much of my early momentum.
She is equipped for the wrong waters. I would need to remove air-conditioning units to install heaters, dismantle freezers to make space for skis, replace the generator to store food. Removing all these perfectly functional systems felt wasteful—and would leave visible scars.
Monica is a wonderful boat, but she is not my boat.
She is meant for someone whose goals align with her history. To force her into a mission she was never built to serve would only create frustration.
Reflection
A survey collects data. But what matters is how that information intersects with the buyer’s intentions.
For some buyers, a good survey means the absence of major flaws.
But for others—those with specific sailing objectives—the interpretation is personal. The question is not whether the boat is sound, but whether she fits the journey ahead.
Buyers without a clear vision of their own project risk letting the boat dictate their future. Those with a defined mission must be able to walk away if the boat’s history does not point in the same direction.
Lesson
Buying a boat often resembles forming a human relationship.
Beyond obvious red flags, many perfectly good people—and many perfectly good boats—fail to bond because they are simply not meant for each other.
Boats, like people, develop a set of values over time. When they are young, they are flexible and open to many futures. As they age, their history narrows the paths they can credibly pursue.
Misalignment between a boat’s evolution and a new owner’s vision will inevitably lead to a painful and expensive break-up.
The kindest choice is to acknowledge this early and walk away with respect.
The time spent getting to know a boat is never wasted. It is a process of self-discovery as much as due diligence.
Linked Frontier
Every boat purchase requires a refit to prepare the vessel for her next mission.
That refit becomes one more layer in the archaeology of the boat’s life—a continuation of her evolution.
But history matters: not every transformation is reasonable or possible.
The past shapes the frontier a boat and new owner can explore together.