I Bought a Million-Dollar Boat… for the Underwater Lights!
Readers, gather around. This is a story of how I, a perfectly reasonable man, ended up buying a million-dollar catamaran because… wait for it… it had underwater lights. Yes, you heard that right. Buckle up, because this tale has more twists and turns than a rom-com starring Ryan Reynolds.
Step 1: Selling the House—A Brilliant Plan (I Thought…)
Back in 2018, I decided to sell the house I had painstakingly built in Woodbine for Donna and the boys. Why, you ask? Well:
I was the only one living there, and my weekends were spent fixing things that no one else appreciated.
My friends? Oh, they were mostly other parents Donna had made friends with. Lovely people, but I wasn’t exactly texting them for beers on a Friday night.
The kids were all off to college, leaving me with an empty nest and a lot of time on my hands.
I was living on 8 acres in the country—not exactly prime territory for meeting a lady friend.
And the thought of living in a condo? No thanks. I need projects, tools, and things to fix—because apparently, I’m allergic to free time.
So, naturally, I thought, “Why not buy a boat? I’ll stay busy, explore the world, and avoid the horror of condo living.” Brilliant, right?
Step 2: Enter Ohana… Almost
Now, I’m no fool. I wasn’t about to buy a used boat and inherit someone else’s nautical nightmare. Nope. I wanted new. I’d learned from cars and RVs—buying used can be like adopting a dog with a “mystery past.” Cute, but unpredictable.
So, I flew down to Argentina to tour the Antares factory, getting all starry-eyed about how my dream boat was going to be built. I even walked on one in progress. But then… plot twist!
Step 3: The $1.2 Million Buzzkill
Turns out, building a custom boat requires paying upfront. To the tune of $1.2 million. (Yes, I choked a little too.) And since banks don’t do building loans for boats, I was back to square one.
Cue dramatic sigh.
Step 4: A Miracle in the Form of a Demo Boat
Just when I thought my sailing dreams were dead in the water, Antares announced they had a “demo” boat for sale. Since it had a hull number, I could actually finance it. I was back in business! But then… another plot twist!
Step 5: Banks Don’t Trust Homeless Sailors
Apparently, selling your house and trying to buy a boat makes banks a little… nervous. Without a stable home address, they worried I might just sail away with their precious collateral. Who knew? (Pro tip: If you’re thinking of buying a boat after downsizing, buy the boat first!)
Luckily, my mother-in-law swooped in to save the day. She moved into a retirement home and put the boys and my name on the lease of her house. Problem solved! Or so I thought…
Step 6: When the Demo Boat Said, “No Thanks”
I was ready to set sail, but the demo boat I was so excited about failed its survey. Stress levels? Through the roof. But fate had one more surprise for me.
Step 7: Love at First Switch
As I was hauling out the demo boat, I casually mentioned I wanted underwater lights. (Because… who doesn’t want their boat to look like a floating disco at night?) The broker heard me, and when the demo boat flopped, she casually said,
“Hey, I’ve got another boat on the dock. It’s a year older, but $100K cheaper and comes with all these extras…”
We’re talking:
Solid lifelines
White painted mast/boom (the only one in the fleet!)
Teak cockpit floor
Extra chart plotter
Water filtration system
Arid bilge system (keeps bilge totally dry and boat smelling nice)
Subwoofer speakers
Bow thruster (now the only boat in the fleet with one!)
SSB Radio
Extra deck cleats
Autopilot controls from the inside nav station
Life raft and Dan buoy
20hp outboard instead of 15hp
Flat floor on the dink
Tons of fenders, lines, boat hooks, a ditch bag, and a bosun’s chair
And the salon configured exactly the way I wanted it—with a counter to house the washer/dryer instead of the forward-facing chair. (Demo boat had sacrificed one of the master closets for the washer/dryer…crazy idea, but they built some boats that way!)
Broker: “I’m going to start writing up the paperwork.”
Me: “Wait… I haven’t decided yet!”
Broker: “Oh, you’ll decide after you see the cockpit.”
And then… I saw it. The switch of all switches. The one that turned on the underwater lights.
Me: (Seeing the switch.) “Okay, fine. TAKE MY MONEY.”
Step 8: Destiny Strikes Again
Fast forward a few years. I’m at a boat show chatting with the Antares Company owner’s son, who casually mentions,
“Oh, by the way… remember that boat we were walking on when you visited the factory? You were walking on Ohana when she was being built in Argentina.”
Excuse me, WHAT?! I was like, “No, that’s not possible. You had just launched Seahorse, the first of the new GT-style Antares.”
He smiled and said, “No, we bumped Seahorse ahead so it would be ready for the Annapolis boat show that year. Ohana was actually the last 44i ever to come out of production, but was finished after we did the first GT.”
I had been walking on my boat before I even knew she would be mine. I mean, if that’s not divine intervention, I don’t know what is.
Moral of the Story: God Works in Mysterious (and Hilarious) Ways
So, there you have it. I bought a million-dollar boat because of underwater lights. But somehow, fate guided me to Ohana, the very boat I had unknowingly walked on during my factory tour.
If you’re ever wondering if God has a sense of humor… just look at me and my underwater disco.
And yes, I’m still very proud of those lights.
