I found a Flying Scot, 2005
I found a Flying Scot in 2005. It was in the backyard of a business that I made sales calls on. I had no clue what a Flying Scot was. It didn't seem like the type of craft one could sleep on, let alone the whole family, but I had clearly outgrown windsurfing and my previous little slow sailboat.
I took down the boat name, and asked the owner if he would ever want to sell the Flying Scot, and he said he wanted to keep it for when he was retired.
I researched the boat, and it turned out they were popular. There was even a fleet nearby, and the boat seemed to have a one-design class that had some racing. Hmmm, racing, I always had fun doing that in windsurfing.
I learned that Scots could be worth a good price if they were in good shape, but that they also could be ruined if the boat sat with lots of water and froze and thawed, and repeated treatment cycles were often fatal.
The next time I saw the boat, it was still in the same place. The owner had retired and his protege was running the business. I called him and asked if he would sell the boat. I knew the boat might be ruined, but I decided to make an offer that would not be such a big loss if the boat turned out to be dumpster filler. We agreed on a very reasonable number, and I towed the boat home, without lights, (or bearings, it turns out) over the hill from Emmaus to my house in Center Valley. The bearings were so bad that it sounded like I was dragging the trailer without wheels. Two cans of fix-a-flat had the tires inflated to usability.
Next time, the cleaning...