Today I bring you another installment of my experiment series on the blog, where I chronicle my “experiences with experiments” (say that 5 times fast) on my slow FI journey! This will be the first of the series that is a not-so-successful story. Although I had been refusing to call them failures up until this point, because I believe that there is no such thing as failure when it comes to experimentation, I couldn’t think of a word I liked better. And “failuretunity” just didn’t quite have the ring to it I was looking for. Hence, I landed on simply putting “failure” in quotation marks. Read on to hear more!
If you’re a regular reader of the blog, you know I am a huge fan of experimentation on the journey to financial independence (FI).
This is why, not too long ago, I started this blog series on experimentation, where I let you know about an experiment we’ve been undertaking and how it’s going.
So far, the installments have all been success stories. Today, that changes.
I don’t like the word failure in this case (I actually don’t like the word failure in general), because I don’t believe any experiment can truly be a failure. We are constantly learning from our experiences and choices. What you learn from an experiment, whether good or bad, helps lead you to your next step. In that sense, failures are always helpful in the long run.
Anywho, I digress. Without further ado, let’s get into today’s not-so-successful experiment story.
A brief history
You may or may not remember, back in 2022, when I shared with our readers that we bought a boat.
I didn’t necessarily think about this purchase as an experiment at the time, but given recent events and reflecting back on our time with said boat, I realized that this was, in fact, a perfect example of an experiment.
Mr. Dink got really into fishing during the pandemic, and after experimenting with fishing from our canoe (both with and without me) as well as from the shore, Mr. Dink decided he wanted to purchase a fishing boat.
He had experience with boats when he was growing up, and he felt that the money was worth it to him for the potential benefit. We keep our finances separate, so while I had a say and he wanted my opinion in this purchase, it was ultimately his decision.
He ended up spending $3500 to purchase a very used, very well-loved fishing boat that summer. In my opinion, it was completely worth it. We had potentially the best summer we’d ever had up until that point tooting around our local lake on our new (to us) fishing boat.
I can’t say it enough. We had an absolute blast on that fishing boat that summer. We had not a care in the world (ok, sometimes it was more like type 2 fun, like the time we worried we didn’t have enough gas to make it back to the boat launch. Luckily, we made it). I used vacation time to take a few afternoons off when the weather was nice so we could enjoy the water. At the end of the day, our memories of the boat from that summer were always good. We loved that boat the way one loves their first car. We loved the freedom we felt when we were on it. We were care-free. We felt like kids again.
Ultimately, it gave us one summer
In reality, these good times were relatively short lived. The following summer, the motor busted. Mr. Dink made an error that I still don’t really understand (I think he tried to start the motor outside the water, before we put it in for the first time of the season??). Basically, the motor would need to be repaired, and Mr. Dink was crushed. He blamed himself. He felt he should have taken better care of his prized possession.
Mr. Dink did a lot of reflecting that summer. Luckily, we had a lot going on, so we didn’t miss being able to use the boat too much. And we didn’t feel the weight of not being able to use it like we would have that first summer. But I could still tell the situation weighed on Mr. Dink.
He thought about paying to get the motor fixed, but it would have taken forever (there’s ONE boat mechanic that serves the entire town as well as a few surrounding towns), and it certainly wouldn’t have been cheap. Who knows if we’d have even had the boat back in time to enjoy it that summer. Meanwhile, it sat in our driveway, a constant reminder of a silly mistake. Of how Mr. Dink had “failed” when it came to this big purchase he had made.
I tried to give him space and patience about the topic as much as I could that summer. This had been his decision, the boat was his baby, and he needed to process all of it on his own.
Finally, Mr. Dink was ready to share with me his ultimate decision and realization.
Mr. Dink wants less stuff
What he ultimately realized was that he wants to simplify his life, specifically in terms of his stuff. For him, this meant having less, not more.
He realized, through the experiment of purchasing the boat in the first place and seeing how boat ownership went, that it was a lot of responsibility. A boat is a lot to take care of, let alone how expensive it can be. Additionally, at least with the way this went, the boat took him away from doing other things he wanted to be doing. He didn’t fish as much last summer because it reminded him of how he’d “failed” with the boat. He spent precious time and mental energy agonizing over what to do with the boat. He didn’t get as much done on our goal to fill our pool in because he was preoccupied with his feelings about the boat.
So, this year, as we rolled into summer, Mr. Dink knew what he had to do. He was ready. He decided to sell his precious boat, broken and all.
He knew what was most important to him – to get rid of the boat. He cared less about the hit he’d take financially and more about getting the boat out of our driveway (and our lives) as quickly as possible. So that he could get his mental space and energy back. So that he could get rid of the constant reminder. So that he could move on and get back to his other goals in life.
He had a whole plan laid out based on his year plus of reflection. He used Facebook marketplace to make the sell. He laid out everything wrong with the boat, as well as all the updates he’d made to the boat since purchase. He started higher than he knew he could probably get on the price, and he dropped it every week until he had a buyer. His goal? Sell this boat as quickly as possible, regardless of how low he had to go on the price.
He had paid $3500 back in 2022 for this boat, and he sold it to 2 enthusiastic young kids (who couldn’t wait to work on the motor themselves, as they were budding boat mechanics) for $1300, after approximately 3 weeks on the Marketplace and 3 price drops.
I’ve never seen him happier than when he watched those kids tow that boat out of our driveway. He hadn’t needed the money they paid him. He may have “lost” money on the boat, but he gained back something much more important. His peace. Mr. Dink’s peace of mind, he realized, is infinitely more important to him at this point in our lives and our FI journeys.
Does he have any regrets?
No way! (Ok, maybe a little). But to us, regret means wishing the outcome had been different, and Mr. Dink is grateful that this experiment brought him to the realization that he wants less stuff and to simplify his life. Does he wish he had never spent the money in the first place? No, because he would have always wondered what it would be like to have a fishing boat. He wanted one too badly that summer of purchase to consider letting that dream go. Does he wish he hadn’t “lost” $2200? Sure. But when we think about all the memories it created and the clarity it brought to our lives, it doesn’t feel like too harsh of a price to pay.
For starters, thanks to our financial journey, we had the money to purchase the boat at the time we did, in cash. We didn’t need to go into debt to get the boat because Mr. Dink chose to spend an amount of money he was willing to part with. He could have gotten a much nicer boat for a bunch more money, but that wasn’t worth it to him. He didn’t want to stress over being a boat owner (ha, he learned that happens regardless of how much money you spend). He didn’t want to worry about how much money he had wasted if it didn’t work out.
Similarly, we weren’t strapped for cash when we sold the boat. We (gratefully) didn’t need the money to pay our bills. In this regard, Mr. Dink could prioritize getting rid of the boat (his #1 desire) over making his money back (a less important desire).
I reminded Mr. Dink that we recently spent approximately $4700 on our first real vacation earlier this year. We spent $1200 more than the cost of the boat for a single week in California. The $3500 we spent on the boat provided us with an entire summer of amazing memories. That has to count for something!
Closing thoughts
Through this experiment, I’ve also had some important learnings in my own journey. This experiment was a great reminder that personal finance is personal, even in a relationship. At least, this is what I believe. Purchasing a boat is not something I would do. And it can be emotional for me to think about Mr. Dink spending his money, knowing it might not work out, on a purchase I myself wouldn’t choose. But this is the exact reason we’ve decided to keep our money separate up to this point. Neither of us wants to be resentful of the others’ purchases. And so we respect the fact that we each have separate dreams and desires. We have mutual understanding and respect, but ultimately, we each get to spend our hard earned money on things we choose and value. We can be a united team and also recognize that we’re two separate people, each with our own values, joys, hopes, and wishes for our lives (in addition to the ones we have as a couple). And thus, this decision was HIS choice. That’s just how we choose to set up our financial lives. What it comes down to for us is that ultimately, we can be so much happier and supportive of the other person and their spending when it’s not coming out of our own bank account. Because I wasn’t resentful of his purchase, I was able to support him unconditionally in both the purchase and selling of the boat. I watched my parents fight about money practically on the daily growing up, and I’m proud that I’ve figured out a way to not let that history seep into my own relationship. We’ve figured out what works for us.
Ok, now that that’s off my chest, I leave you with a final note on failure. In my mind (Mr. Dink may still be working on this in his), this experiment was NOT a failure. Mr. Dink learned so many valuable lessons about himself and his money journey from this experiment with being a boat owner.
In my opinion, we have to get comfortable with failure to design our best lives. How can we know what we really want to do with our days, with our lives, if we don’t try things? And by trying things, we may fail. I don’t know about you, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take. It’s a risk I think we can’t afford NOT to take!*
Consider this final quote (one of my favorites) on the topic of failure for some parting wisdom that will hopefully help you on your journey to designing your best life:
Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.
Winston Churchill
What possibilities would open up for you on your journey if, when you failed, you failed with enthusiasm?
Until next time, friends!
What’s something you “failed” at lately but that ultimately helped you grow? I’d love to hear from you!
*Apologies to my readers who hate the double negatives, but this one had to stay in 😉
I’m curious whether Mr. Dink will now sometimes spend money on renting a boat, instead?
Personally I ended my private lease for my car and am not getting a new car. It was great to have a car back during the pandemic when I had to go to several different work locations and thus didn’t need to use public transport (and we really couldn’t work from home). Now I have a job where I can WFH and where the one location is perfectly reachable by public transport.
With the car, someone scratched my right car door, and I didn’t notice until much later. And so, those costs fell to me, and I felt that the repair was quite expensive for the size of the scratch. It made me a bit anxious about what else I could mess up or what else could go wrong “spontaneously” which would again come with a big bill. I also hated having to find a parking space sometimes. That’s much easier with public transport too, ha.
So now I won’t own a car again for a while. Maybe I’ll miss the advantages and will try again. But I also recognize the “owner” syndrome that Mr. Dink had with his boat: so easy to mess things up, so time- and money-consuming to fix it again.
Yes, great point! I think it’s good to experiment with different things like that. And you’re right, maybe you’ll miss it, and you can always look for another car. But maybe you won’t miss it and you’ll enjoy the benefits of being car-free! Mr. Dink hasn’t brought up renting a boat just yet (I think he’s still actively recovering from the whole situation, ha), but this is a great idea and one that maybe he hasn’t though of yet but will be a great consideration for the future. Thanks for the suggestion!