DISENTWANGLING

Chip describes selling the business like untangling a big pile of string. You methodically work out each strand until it's free, and then go back for the next one, hoping at some point to reach the last rope (insert your own "last straw" joke here).

Our chores include things like transfer the domain name, get a lease termination signed by landlord, cancel credit cards used for business purchases, notify phone company and power company of new ownership, file dba cancellation, copy and send email list to new owners, notify advertising contacts of change, pay final bills, collect invoices and receipts needed for tax purposes, find a place to store those invoices and receipts, get everything you do notarized (at least it seems like it), close LLC, close business bank account, pay final sales and use tax, closeout payroll.

Each day we get a few more things off the list. Step by step by step. Looking for that last rope, the one keeping us tied to the dock.

EXCHANGE RATE

Today we handed over the keys to the wine shop.

We can no longer go in early. We are no longer on call when the store is open -- or when it's not.

For five years and 23 days, we have been on-call 24 hours a day, even on vacation. For five years and 23 days, we got the call when the security alarm went off, even at 3 a.m., even when we were in Palm Beach.

Now, we no longer have to worry about POS software or internet connection, credit card service providers or cooler compressors, ballasts or heat pumps.

Now we can worry about furlers and GPS, diesel engines and zincs, rigging and solar panels. Bottom paint, harnesses, flares, sea cocks and through-hulls.

A fair trade?

OUR CHEERING SQUAD

When we opened the wine shop, we expected it to be successful. What we did not expect was the colorful cast of characters who delivered that success.

From the beginning, our customers welcomed us, entertained us, brought us gifts, shared their joys and sorrows, their pets, their families with us. We celebrated their good news: engagements, weddings and pregnancies. We laughed and cried at their stories and applauded their milestones. We welcomed their babies and watched as those babies grew into little people. We mourned the loss of a few sweet souls and miss them still.

It was this sense of community that made us go against all conventional wisdom in selling our store. Instead of keeping it under wraps, we shared all along our dream of sailing. As we made that dream a reality, our family of customers became our cheering squad.

Today, that squad came running into the store to give us high fives and hugs, to cheer us on our way and warn us about pirates.

And just as I would have expected, they welcomed the new owners, Laura and Phil, with the same enthusiasm.

Even though we leave our Chip's community in good hands, it is a bittersweet farewell.

The first payment in the price of leaving.

REALIZING TWO DREAMS

Following is the newsletter that we sent to our Chip's Wine & Beer Market community.

YOU ARE INVITED...

... to a major celebration!

Thursday, June 17th
4:00-7:00 p.m.
Chip's WIne & Beer Market
MP6 Plaza

Wine, beer and snacks provided

REALIZING TWO DREAMS

What are we celebrating? Now there's a good story. And what could be better than a good story with a happy ending? How about two intertwining stories, both with happy endings?

Most of you already know that Chip's WIne & Beer Market has been for sale. We, Chip and Tammy, opened the store in 2005 to help finance our dream of sailing full time. You have watched and waited with us as we slowly (very slowly) sold our house, our belongings, sold our old sailboat, bought a new one and brought it down from the northern Chesapeake. The last thing we needed to accomplish before sailing away was to find new owners for the wine shop.

It was always important to us to leave our awesome community of customers in good hands, and if we could have magically conjured up the perfect people to leave you with, we could not have done any better.

Introducing Laura and Phil

It gives us great joy to introduce you to the new owners of Chip's: Laura and Phil Wayland.

Laura and Phil had a little dream too: owning their own wine shop, and just as the owners before them, they have done the hard work to accomplish their goal. We know you're going to love them, and they have great plans for improving the store.

Laura has six years of management experience in the wine business as an independent wine consultant. She repeatedly won awards for her work and just so you know how fabulous she is, her peers voted her "heart of the company" in 2008. She has marketing, communications and event coordination experience as well. Laura loves wine and loves hooking people up with wines they will love.

Phil has a degree in Integrated Science and Technology (we don't know what that is either, but he's fun and has a great sense of humor). He works in the information technology industry, but you'll be seeing him around Milepost 6 a lot. He will bring his knowledge of business operations managementto provide some back room financial oversight for the store. You might see him in the beer aisle sometimes too. ;-)

Laura and Phil are young, energetic, brilliant, snob-free and love to laugh out loud. They met in college (James Madison University), have been married 10 years and have two beautiful children, Tyler, 7, and Loxley, 6.

And by fulfilling their dream of owning a wine shop, they have enabled us to launch our adventures at the sea.

We hope you'll join us on Thursday to celebrate two happy endings, or, on second thought make that two happy beginnings. 

The Last Word

Finally, we bid you a big and tearful thank you. In part, dreams come true on the strength of a well-laid plan and hard work, but we know that we've been carried this far on the shoulders of our customers. You made this store a great success, and we have been grateful every day that you chose to shop with us. Thank you for being part of giving our dream life.

If you want to come along for the ride, you can follow us at:
http://ploddingtoparadise.blogspot.com/

Fair winds,

WINE SHOP SOLD

It has happened. Three days short of 20 months on the market, five years and 18 days into a five-year plan, we sold the store.

Shouldn't there be leaping and tears or high fives and delirium? In fact, we are still and quiet.

This, the last item on our TO DO list, has been mythical for so long, I think I lost sight of the possibility that it could be real. It had moved into the realm of unicorns and mermaids.

But there is nothing ephemeral about what we're feeling now.

Gratitude is as big as the heavens, fathomless and eternal.

A BIG PARADE IS SO INSPIRING

The bank says our deal on the wine shop will close next Monday.

"What!?!?" our lawyer said. "If this were a parade, the folks aren't even lined up yet."

Our lawyer was one of the many who warned us about the last days of closing a business sale, the disagreements, the histrionics, the legal entanglements.

"I should have warned you," I said. "Things often happen this way for us. Once it's time, the door doesn't just open, it gets blown off with dynamite."

"I hope for your sake, that's what happens," he said. "It would be one for the books."

Yeah, put on your hazmat suit.

GOOD THINGS COME IN THREES

Selling a business can be a rancorous affair. Everyone has warned us.

Of course, they told us that about buying a boat -- and selling one as well.

However, nobody really warned us that we would sell a boat, buy a boat and sell a business, smooth as silk, and come out the other side, each time, with new friends.

The wine shop buyers, Laura and Phil, have been a pleasure. The first time I met with them at the store, Chip kept coming in to see what all the laughing was about. They have shown great respect for us and what we've built. From the start there has been an openness and trust that we feel sure will carry through to the finish.

Today we planned together how to make this transition as positive as possible for everyone concerned, how and when to announce the sale and how to introduce Laura and Phil to the customers.

There's probably a perfect sports phrase to insert here about a triple play or a trifecta or a hat something. I like to think of it more as a triple miracle.

WELL, YOU ASKED

Saturday night while we were slogging through inventory, Chip was fretting over some expensive Italian bottles on the shelf, bottles that had been there for four years.

He hates to saddle the new owners with expensive inventory that's hard to turn. We kindly took one of them (poor us).

Today, Chip was in the back room doing some paperwork when Mike, one of our employees, came in with a register receipt.

"You might want to check your high-end wines."

Someone came in and 10 minutes and $1255 later, left with all but one of those Italian bottles.

Did he have wings?

THE FRENZY

Over the months the wine shop has been on the market, I've made a half-assed effort of preparing for a fictional handoff. This week, with a real life handoff looming, my effort has become full-assed.

It's daunting the amount of work there is to do for a potential closing late this week or early next (don't know for sure), beginning with removing things from the store that don't belong here, like our sailing stuff in the back room. (Is an anchor in the back room bad Feng Shui?) And that little sailboat on the top shelf that belongs to our Mr. Fix-It, one of the many small things that accumulate over the years.

Then there is the information handoff, vendor lists, advertising contacts, phone numbers. What files do we have to keep? Which ones do we have to leave for the new owners? Which ones can just be tossed, because they are of no use to anyone? Why did I keep so much irrelevant paper?

Details, details. Who pays what portion of advertising for the year? What outstanding gift certificates are out there? How do you hand over a website and a Facebook page?

Why didn't I figure this out a long time ago?

Lack of faith, perhaps?

COUNTING

As this weekend approached, we debated whether or not to do inventory at the wine shop.

If the deal on the store goes through, we will have to do a complete inventory with the buyers if they choose to do so. For our own peace of mind, we'd like to know that it is as accurate as possible. We've also included in the deal a par dollar amount for inventory. If we know exactly how much is in the store, Chip can fine tune the ordering and sales to get close to the par.

But what if it doesn't go through? We will have spent an entire weekend, Saturday night, Sunday morning and Sunday night, counting -- all for naught. Will the count count?

The news yesterday about the loan approval bolstered our resolve --and our energy -- to start counting, to touch every bottle we own this one last time. We made it through all the wine, four hours last night, three hours this morning and four more tonight.

Before we started counting though, I helped myself to a bunch of Russian River Pinot Noir, but it turns out I'm just an amateur.

My bottles were in the $40 range. Chip was snagging $100, $200, $300 bottles. I love him. As we were counting, he would come across a wine he loved and call out, NAME OF WINE, THREE, no, make that TWO.

It seems a small reward for five years of hard, hard work, and for Chip, 30 years in the wine biz, the wine wiz. If you ask me, it's better than a gold watch.

And it makes me happy thinking of all those beautiful anchorages where we'll raise a glass.

CLOSE ENOUGH TO TOUCH

At 2:18 this afternoon I signed into my email and found my life free of another huge qualifier: our buyers' loan was approved! That huge "IF" is now gone.

I called Chip at the wine shop, sobbing. I'm sure he thought someone had died, but no, it was happy sobbing, relief, fatigue, joy, impatience, all coming out in great heaving gasps.

We have so much experience at waiting, but waiting for something on a far horizon is quiet, almost calming. This new waiting, so near the goal is urgent, too intense to be ignored, so deafening it commands center stage. Nothing can distract from our shining goal, right there in sight, painfully close.

And so, after the tears, we celebrate one more step on this plod to the water, close enough to touch.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, CHIP'S

Five years ago last night, we pulled an all-nighter.

It was our 41st day straight of painting, hooking up computers, installing shelves, getting a seemingly endless number of permits, ordering products, entering inventory into the computer.

We were almost ready except for putting up shelf tags -- on 2500 items. Chip's family helped us, spending hours studying tiny labels and looking for their corresponding products. We sent them home at midnight and kept plugging away at it, hour after hour. At 6 a.m., I walked over to the California wine aisle and found Chip sprawled on the floor, sound asleep.

There was no ceremonial moment when we said, okay, we're ready, let's open. In fact, we forgot to lock the door and someone came in.

"Are you open?"

We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders and so it began.

The business plan we wrote had a five-year exit strategy. I thought surely the way our lives go, this, our 5th anniversary, would be the day we would hear the loan was approved.

Sure enough, about four o'clock my phone rang. Caller ID said it was the buyers' broker.

There was news from SBA, but it was not approval.

"SBA wants all the paperwork changed to show the name of the buyers' corporation."

We looked at each other, shrugged our shoulders and so it continues.

Happy 5th Anniversary, wine shop.

LOCKED IN -- OR OUT

We officially signed a contract on the wine shop today with a closing date on or before July 1 -- whenever the loan is approved -- IF it is approved. Do we dare hope?

As Chip was vacuuming at the end of the day, he pushed the wine shop office door closed, and it locked him out -- with his keys inside. Or did it lock him in?

Does the wine shop want us to stay -- or go?

Only the crowbar knows for sure.

TO DO: Get new doorknob for office door.

THE POWER OF A BOAT: Heading South Day Five

Great Bridge  36°43.368N | 76°14.751W

I was an art history major for a few semesters in college, until I realized I was as likely to find an art history job as I was to purchase the Mona Lisa. But during that deliciously decadent period, I ate up art history in great heaping spoonfuls. One of the theories I relished for evaluating a piece of art is placing it in its historical context, in the bigger world around it. To understand an artwork completely, according to this theory, it must be judged in its unique place and time, looking at what came before it and how that impacted what came after.

Despite the fact that I blog in real time, I find it much more interesting and compelling to look back at my own story in my historical context and in the bigger world around me, looking at what came before big events in my life and how that impacted what came after. Rarely am I able to recognize the big moments when they're actually happening. Except for sometimes ...

From the moment we made an offer on our new boat, Good Company, in December, it was as if we untied the lines of our lives and moved into the current -- after so many stagnant months of waiting. Her power to move us forward started resonating in our lives before we even got her in the water. The offer, the acceptance, the rare weather window in January for the sea trial, the idyllic commissioning and handoff, from the day our relationship with Good Company began, we've been plowing steadily through calm, deep water.

We closed the deal in January and hoped to bring our new boat from the northern Chesapeake to the Outer Banks in February, but the universe needed to tie up some loose ends first, so in epic fashion, the northern Chesapeake remained frozen solid, locking us out. On March 1st we got a contract on our old boat, Isabella. Yet again, we had an idyllic handoff, and the new owners sailed her away on April 2nd, releasing us from the specter of caring for two boats at once.   

By the time we came to bring Good Company home, our 5-year TO DO list was now reduced to one item: Sell the Wine Shop, an item we've been tilting at since listing the business in September 2008.

We left Great Bridge this morning on a short, easy trek to Coinjock, intending to give ourselves a break after the previous day's 12-hour slog, and excited to finally pass into North Carolina waters. It was apparent as we neared the state line that the weather was not going to give us a break. Chip hailed a northbound sailboat to check conditions.

"It's blowing pretty good, but stay to middle of the channel, and you'll be fine."

"Blowing pretty good" was a steady 37-knots -- straight across the beam -- in a very narrow channel through the shallow water of the Currituck Sound. We've learned that navigating the ICW goes much smoother with both of us on duty. I track our progress on the chart and scan the horizon for the path on ahead, giving Chip verbal directions as he concentrates on maintaining the immediate course.

We were taking the occasional cold spray over the starboard rail, when not 10 miles past the state line, we approached the more sketchy part at the southern tip of the sound that required more navigation finesse. 

That's when my phone rang. I'm not a big phone-answerer, often letting calls roll to voicemail, even when I'm not navigating in a 37-knot blow. But this time I answered.

For the next few minutes, I would say, "hold on a second," shout directions to Chip, then tuck my head back under the dodger so I could hear the voice on the other end. 

It was a broker alerting me that he was emailing me an offer on our business.

Looking back in real time, we can only place that phone call in the context of what came before. We don't yet know how that will impact what comes after.

Until then, we rely on what we do know: Good Company. Good fortune.

And so we continue, homeward bound and hopeful, navigating together through calm, deep waters.

Coinjock  36°20.276N | 75°57.399W

41

No, I'm not referring to George H.W. Bush. Forty-one is the number of prospects that have contacted me since we listed the business in April.

Apparently business shoppers were in the doldrums in August as well. From August 3rd to August 30 I didn't get a single inquiry. Now I've had five in the last week. This is one of those weeks we refer to as 'noisy.' (You might recall, one of our prospects threatened to submit a letter of intent this week.)

Some other numbers according to my spreadsheet:

Number of emails to, from and about prospects: 267

Number of states represented: 17
Number from North Carolina: 7
Farthest away: California
Most inquiries in one day: 3 -- and this happened twice
Number of prospects named Patel: 5
Number of buyers: 0 (zero)

JUST SAY NO

Some days come with labels. Today's was NO.

Have you ever watched a dog run full tilt to the end of his lead and get yanked to a painful halt? That was Sunday. From the very first thing I attempted until I stopped trying, I kept hitting the end of the lead. I've made a chiropractor appointment to repair the damage.

First thing, I tried to print out a simple document for the business prospects we were meeting at 11. The document wouldn't open. Then no matter how or where or what computer I tried, the damn thing would NOT print.

At one point, Chip walked into the office to find me crouched under the desk holding the laptop at arm's length.

"What are you DOING?"

"Don't ask!" I snarled ungraciously. "STOP TALKING TO ME."

No. Never did get it printed.

Despite the pall of the day, we met with our realtor late in the afternoon to ponder the offer on the house. It has a contingency on their house closing in a few weeks, which also has a contingency. The domino effect. Should we sign? While we were debating, the phone rang. Someone wants to see the house tomorrow at 11.

Really? Someone's calling on Sunday at 5 p.m. to look at our house on a Monday morning? Really?

Okay, LOUD answer. NO.

That's good. We don't like subtlety.

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

Sometimes I imagine myself in the driver's seat of my life, speeding along in what appears to be complete control. I come to an intersection and get totally fixated on what's down the road on the left. I turn on my blinker, spin the wheel left, and nothing happens. No matter what I do, even if I get out and push the car, I can't get it to go left. Defeated, I get back in, turn right and off I go, realizing at once that this was the "choice" I should have made all along. Damn it! Who's in charge here?

Our wine shop manager of two years is leaving to work on some other projects (Bye, E!), so our attention has shifted to hiring a whole staff for the summer. (Thank goodness things have actually been quiet on the other fronts.)

Blame it on the economy, but we had impressive applicants, applicants that made me wonder, "why are you applying for THIS job?"

After sorting them and then interviewing eight people, I decided on my top two candidates. I turned on the left blinker and spun the wheel.

I hired my first choice for a part-time summer position. I loved him, trained him, still loved him. He worked two days and quit.

The second guy had five years of wine shop management experience. I offered him the manager position, and he asked for a day to think about it. A week later after several hit and miss attempts to communicate with him, it was clear the left turn just wasn't going to happen.

So there I was, two weeks from our high season and our entire staff was Casey and Chip.

I turned on the right blinker, spun the wheel and 48 hours later we're training two awesome people.

Who's in charge here?

AND THE STRANGE PLAYS ON

As reported here before, we've settled into a bizarre pattern where we get intense flurries of activity on the business, the house, the boat, followed by weeks of utter silence.

We woke this morning expecting more quiet, but there was an email from a couple in D.C. looking to move to the Outer Banks. They are both in the wine business -- the husband for 25 years. They saw our ad for the store on craigslist and wondered if it was still for sale. It is.

This afternoon our realtor called to make an appointment to show the house, some action we hope might generate the need for those other folks to get MOVING.

While I was getting the house ready an email arrived from Jason in New England, who is itching to have a look at Isabella. He has a Catalina 29 to sell first, but wrote to say he has some good prospects.

Noise. Lots of noise today.

UPDATE:
--Coat number three on the toe rails. Started filling in the damage on the garage. Another coat on the hatches as well.
--Chip's deck work turned out great. He has to grind down the holes and fill them. Then we're going to start painting the decks.
--I cleaned the windows on the dodger today. They look beautiful -- you can actually see through them now.

GROUP RE-THINK

"The unexamined life is not worth living." --Socrates

If we examine it a LOT does it become more worthwhile?

Our two prospective business buyers phased themselves back down to phase one this week. No one has looked at the house in almost a week. We both have colds. The economy continues being sucked down a black hole. Terrorists attacked Mumbai (which, before this week, I would have sworn was in Africa. Call me Sarah.) The big three automakers have downsized to the tiny three and are groveling before Congress begging for money. (Oh sure, now you decide to drive hybrids.)

We were both feeling feckless, aimless, lost, so we took a page out of Fortune 500 and called a board meeting. (Oh yeah, carmakers! We walked to our meeting.)

The universe had apparently issued us an intermission; we felt we should find ways to use it productively -- other than playing cribbage.

For the small picture, we identified a few more projects and planned an open house next week.

But more importantly, we added a big picture item: reconnecting with friends. We've been lousy friends since we opened the store -- just ask them. And now that we've spent the last few months with the wagons circled, we want to turn our gaze outward, tightening the bonds that are what truly keep us afloat.

And then we played cribbage.

PHASING IN

How to buy our business:

Phase One:
Talk to the broker. Get preliminary information.

Phase Two:
Submit financial credentials. Sign nondisclosure agreement. Get P&L statement and company profile.

Phase Three:
Make an offer.

Our broker notified us that somebody moved to Phase Two this week.

We're still in a deep haze from the beer festival. Alas, it's not from drinking. It's from fatigue. Looking forward to some days off this weekend!