When it finally closes, 2023 will mark a year of significant ‘ups’ and ‘downs’ for me. It will also mark a turning point in my path to Financial Independence (FI) which is likely to delay it by a few more years. It has been mentioned in other posts, but to say it again, the journey to reach FI is long and it can be difficult to maintain course and dedication to the cause. Something I have learned all too well.
I’d be lying if I didn’t often wonder about what it would be like had I not been a natural saver. You hear stories about how some significant number of Americans cannot even come up with $500 to cover an emergency yet they live like kings and queens spending nearly every dime they make and saving nearly none of it. It feels like you work so hard to try and do the right things, but then someone else seems to just luck into things, throw financial caution to the wind, and are seemingly having a grand old time, and yet here you are, planning your years around how to save for a future that you hope will be yours – maybe.
Looking back – I would say the true seeds of change were planted during the start of the pandemic when we all started working from home. It took a bit of adjusting to finding a new flow in life, but after a few months, I fell in love with it. I never wanted to go back to the office. Things just “worked” for me. I could roll straight out of bed and into meetings, I was more productive than ever, delivering content well beyond anything I had done totaling years prior. Routinely stayed late answering emails or messages, learned to bake and got errands done around the house while on calls, and just overall felt a good balance between work and life.
At the time though, the other thought in the back of my head was that the company I worked for would not allow this for long. Prior to the pandemic, I had seen those who choose this lifestyle get let-go or get left behind when it came time for promotions and bonuses. Working remote was always frowned upon and so while I enjoyed the workflow immensely, I could not help but wait for the other shoe to drop and reality to set in and beckon us all back to the dismal grey-on-grey corporate environment that was our office.
The days became weeks, the weeks became months, and the months became quarters. After nearly a year – and rather unexpectedly, the company changed their tune. Their email stated that everyone who was remote, could opt to stay remote, indefinitely.
But still – I thought it was a trap. I had been in this game too long not to see the writing on the wall, despite the writing in the email telling me otherwise.
Others however, with the blessing of this email from our leaders, took it as a sign it was time to up and leave. With no changes to your salary if you stayed in the state or moved to a similar one (in terms of overall cost of living), I knew of a few individuals who sold their homes and bought elsewhere. Some bought nice homes in smaller towns and communities where they could live extremely comfortably not needing to worry about the commute time. Some stayed where they were and just continued from their home, and another moved to Florida to be close to the water and in the sunshine.
For months – I seriously considered pulling the trigger myself. Selling my house, and jumping completely into the live aboard life. It all felt too perfect though, and I remained very cautious in in my decisions. Impulsivity is not a strong quality of mine and it had taken me years to get to the spot that I was at. The question I asked myself was if I was really ready to throw all of this away, knowing there was no easy way back.
There remained a nagging feeling in my gut that once management saw employee performance drop, or if the building didn’t sell or something else out of my control came up, they would once again re-neg on their deal and ask everyone to come right back. At which point, I would be forced to either quit and find a new job if I loved my new lifestyle, or I would have to find a new place to live and get a mortgage, commute, and a big house payment all over again.
The way real estate prices were skyrocketing at that time, and believing that trend would continue for a while, in another 6 months I was fairly certain I would not be able to afford to buy back my own house again (or something similar to it). I also liked my house and the conveniences that came with it. Over the years I accumulated a large garage full of tools and equipment that allowed me to build and fix most things. My house had multiple rooms to dedicate to work, life, and hobbies, and a large yard (for the area) for my dog to play in. It would be a lot to give up and it would be a hard transition with no real safety net that I could see.
Despite my initial uncertainty, I still fantasized about places I could live on Zillow, and I had recurring exploratory sessions on yachtworld looking at what a future home on the water might be and if it would be the Nordhavn I had lusted over after all these years.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it – The used market for boats was also exploding during this time. Boats asking six-figure values were being bought sight-unseen and hardly remained on the listings for more than a few days. Again, being an extremely cautious person regarding money, I didn’t feel nearly as confident that I could place that sort of money down on a boat that I’ve never even once stepped foot upon. Not to mention, I also did not want to get into a bidding war or have to fight tooth and nail to get what I wanted under such pressure. So while it was unfortunate I could not find what I was looking for, it worked out in my favor that the market conditions kept me out and playing the long waiting game.
At the time, I recognized this boat frenzy was a bubble to the market from all of the people who were cooped up during the pandemic looking for a way out. I knew that eventually it would burst, but didn’t know how long that might be, and that definitely fed into a FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) mindset . The decision to “stay put and continue to hold out” was reached after several months of mental gymnastics in my head.
The chaotic nature of the boat market, coupled with the infrequent listings that came around for the models I was considering helped to make the decision a little bit easier, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t still check the markets daily for quite a while.
Updates from friends showed they were having a great time. Some spent nearly every weekend out fishing, others started hobby farms, and others still managed to find dates and try out nearly every restaurant in the city. Each who took advantage of the situation appeared to be living well and benefiting from their choice.
Still – I sat and enjoyed a quiet existence with the thought in my head that the sacrifice I continue to make for Financial Independence would be worth it.
After another year, things settled slightly and I still felt safe in my decision, so it was only natural to then be semi-shocked by my companies decision that they wanted everyone back in the office. Fortunately, it was not a mandate, but I still saw the writing on the wall, so I started going in. My theories and decision making felt confirmed – I managed to navigate a multi-year period without losing my house, my short commute, or anything that gave me comfort.
Then 2023 happened. Near the end of March, soon after I came home my beloved dog collapsed in front of me, indicating something was very wrong. The diagnosis later that night broke my heart – He very likely had cancer, and the prognosis was bad. Untreated he had hours, and if treated likely had only a few months. The vet made it clear that this was likely the end, and no amount of money was going to fix this for the better. There was a small chance he could survive long term.
A benefit of being well on the path to FI was that I didn’t have to consider cost in my decision making in that terrible moment. I could make a decision based on what I felt was best for him, and perhaps selfishly, what I could emotionally handle at that time. Despite the poor odds I opted for an emergency surgery. If there was a chance, I wanted to give it to him, and if not, I wanted to make sure I could make the most of our remaining time together. At the very least, when the time came to put him down I would try to do it in the comfort of the place he always knew as home, and not in a scary operating room surrounded by strangers and in pain, not knowing what was happening.
In the end, and sparing some teary moments, we got most of the summer together, and he passed after a great feast of all of his favorite snacks in his favorite sunny spot in the back yard. It is without question one of the most difficult things I have done in my life.
That ordeal changed me.
It forced me to rethink plans and realize how unexpected things will happen. With nothing guaranteed in life I was left questioning if I was truly making the most of what I had in-front of me. Do I continue to sacrifice and remain buckled down for 5 years or more? or can I loosen some purse strings and live more comfortably, say “yes” to more things, and complete the FI journey in 7 or maybe 10 years instead of 5?
I decided to adjust course.
FI would still be my goal, but I would continue down the path at a less strict pace in order to also partially indulge in the dream I have chased for so long. Facing the loss of my best friend, it was clear anything could happen, and likely would, and it would be a shame for me to waste my current position and opportunities.
During my dogs sickness, several of the boat models I had been searching for also came up for sale after literally months of listings being completely empty. One in particular caught my eye for some of the upgrades and changes that were made that seemed to set it apart from its peers. When it first published, I dismissed it at the time because my focus was exclusively with my dog and his care. The dream of boat ownership remained a “one day” idea that was not going to happen soon, and I waited for both it, and its peers to slowly disappear from the listing pages, just like their predecessors before them as they all eventually sold.
Surprisingly, they did not disappear as quickly as I expected. The one that initially caught my eye remained. “There must be something off with it” – that was the first thing that came to my head. Agonizing over the pictures and details in the listing, I had some ideas as to why it didn’t sell, but couldn’t see anything super obvious. “There must be something else” I thought to myself, maybe it fails inspection or there is something serious they didn’t list. …or perhaps the bubble is finally bursting? maybe it already burst, and things are back to normal?
With the listing staring me in the face multiple times per day – There was still a good amount of grief in my heart that I knew would skew my decision making, so I made a mental threshold: 3 weeks
That’s how long I will plan on giving myself to clear my head and not make an impulsive, emotional decision. If after that period its still for sale – then I will make the call and ask about it. If not, then it wasn’t meant to be and the life I’ve been living would continue. (In hindsight, this wasn’t nearly enough time, but hey, I wanted to be more impulsive, and I could certainty afford to do so)
Sure enough, 3 weeks came and went, and the boat remained for sale. I still recognized my mental state was emotional (less so than before, but still very high), but I was also tired of always coming up with excuses. I knew in my head that if no action was taken, and as my feelings and emotions waned, this would pass me by. In a sense, having some emotions still running high may have provided the ‘kick in the ass’ I needed to make a change.
On October 4th 2023, an offer was made, and by the 5th, it was accepted. I would be the proud owner of a (new to me) Nordhavn 46. After a decade of dreaming, “Valkyrie” was starting to materialize.
I write this post in the middle of the contingency period. Surveys and haul outs are still to come, but I have some degree of confidence what comes back will be largely cosmetic and not a major structural problem. After all, its an older boat, and I don’t mind cosmetic issues – dare I say I might be looking forward to refitting the interior myself.
The boat is 700 miles away and there is a good amount of logistical challenges to overcome in the coming weeks, and months pending the deal closure. The combination of these is leaving me in a weird state of happy, optimistic, fearful and relieved.
Happy – that my offer was accepted, its the model I want and so many things seemed to align after such a dark period.
Optimistic – this marks the start of something new and exciting, with a huge upward potential. Places and coves to explore, people to meet, friends to entertain, and I’ve considered making videos to help document the journey and the work. After all, similar videos are what has kept my motivation so high over the years.
Fearful – of what I don’t know. Its a big change, and I know there will be unexpected bumps and costs, I just don’t like surprises and outstanding risks all that much, instead I am much more of a planner.
Finally, relived that I did it. I pulled the trigger, stepped out of my traditional comfort zone and decided to make this much more of a reality, rather than letting more of my life slip by in waiting.
Ultimately, time will tell if my decision to delay FI and significantly increase my own lifestyle inflation index will be worth it or not. Its a long journey, and its best to enjoy the ride. Here’s to betting it will be 😉