…the Freedom 36.
If I had to justify the decision logically, I’m not sure I could right now. There are a lot of things to like about the Freedom design, but there is just as much that is either unlikable or unknown, and I’ve tried through this whole process to minimize the unknowns.
The Freedom just felt like the right boat, at the right price, at the right time. In one of those strange little market quirks that occur from time to time, the week we made the offer, three other Freedom 36s came up for sale, all of them in Puget Sound. So if something should happen and this particular deal falls through, it seems clear that Neptune desires we buy this model.
Condition weighed a lot in the decision. Although not the most immaculate boat we looked at in the past year (the winner there is hands-down the CS 40 up in Vancouver we saw; if you’re looking for something in the 40 foot range you owe yourself a trip up there for that one), Paros is clean and apparently in good repair. I found an oil leak on the first pass, and Mandy found a couple drips from portlights, but that was about it. Everything else spoke of a history of regular maintenance and some attention to detail on the part of various owners. After looking at slimy interiors and dingy decks on boats in the same price range, this made Paros seem a decade younger than she actually is.
Space and livability at anchor was a big deal. Having a table that folds entirely away in a boat with a twelve and a half foot beam opens the space up like you wouldn’t believe. It feels huge inside, airy and accessible, with room to spare for our gear, work space for me where I can finally sit upright, and a terrific cabin for guests. At the same time, it is reasonably, if not perfectly, laid out for passage making, with appropriate hand-holds, footing, and access to stores.
When I started out fantasizing about a newer boat, a self-tacking foresail figured prominently in my daydreams. As our search progressed, that fantasy was dashed quickly by the cold waves of reality coming over the bow that almost no boats in our size and price range had been built with or designed for such a thing. To have ultimately found one anyway is a lovely bit of icing on top. The unstayed rig itself remains largely in the unknown column, but the lack of stays and the elimination of holes through the deck are as real as it gets, and whatever minuses we may find with the big carbon fiber stick, there are a lot of common rigging headaches that have unquestionably disappeared from our radar. I’m looking forward to the sailability quite a lot; I don’t quite know how to express the absence of concern that comes from the lack of potential future maintenance problems, but I’m feeling that too.
The brokerage deserves some credit for making the sale as well. Robbie Robinson, the owner of Signature Yachts, also owned this particular boat for several years, and had a lot of information to offer about her handling and behavior. The broker we worked with, Tori Parrott, was knowledgeable and responsive, quick to return calls even as she was scrambling for change in the ferry line on her way up to Victoria for the Swiftsure.
Signature is also one of the few, and perhaps the only, brokerages we encountered that took any responsibility for ensuring that the boats they show have at least been cleaned and detailed. This is a small thing, but it can dramatically improve the presentability, and therefore salability, of a vessel. My preference would have actually been to have found a filthy boat with good bones and potential and negotiate a steep discount on the basis of how disgusting it was, but that must just be a guy thing… my wife never got to a point where she could see past the surface grime, and I suspect many boat shoppers are like that.
The other boat we made a firm offer on during this process was not favored with representation of that sort. We had trouble reaching them, didn’t always hear back, and felt jerked around and that misrepresentations were made during the negotiations. That boat is still sitting on the market and at last check the listed price has dropped very close to what our offer was… it could have been off the market a month ago, probably at a better price than what it will actually sell for, and the owner could have saved himself a summer of payments on note and slip.
Despite the softness of the market, I don’t think we got a particularly good deal. It was acceptable, obviously, since we agreed to it, but I expect that waiting a little longer, negotiating a little harder, and looking a little more would have got us more bang for our buck… bucks saved that would have allowed sailing more and more comfortably. At some point, you have to decide between maximizing your value and just moving on, and although it was something I had tried to gird myself against, we picked moving on. As with any other boat we might have bought, it will probably be five or ten years before we know whether or not we made the right decision. But we’ll have a place to live this year, and we’ll be out sailing this summer.
Next up: the survey!