The Old Man and the Yacht

I want to tell you a story about an old man.

This old man was very successful. Built his own house. Married the love of his life. Had fraternal twin girls. Took amazing vacations. Big into philanthropic work. On top of it all — he built his own yacht, and then wrote a book about the journey.

Well, that man was my grandfather. Successful businessman, philanthropist... a right bastard (in a lot of respects), and a FUCKING YACHT BUILDER. That is still one of the most amazeballs things I've ever heard.

I would include more about him — but like I said, he was a bit of a bastard.

So why am I telling you this?

Even though he was a "douche canoe" (technical term), he's a huge reason I'm taking on such a massive project. Nay — two projects. (Why two? I think I figured that out, too.)

You see, my grandfather paid for my college. Hell, he even paid for my rent while I was going to school. He provided for me — but there was always this undertone: I'm doing this because you're family and I owe you, not because I want to know you.

Of course, I'll be the first to say: he didn't owe me anything. Absolutely not. But he felt he did, and that's why he helped. Not to connect — just to give. I guess that's sweet... in a messed-up way.

Through my whole college era (third attempt, mind you), he seemed proud — but always compared me to my mother (who is... well, a whole disaster by herself — stories may follow). He took every moment to remind me of all his accomplishments. Looking back, maybe he did that to give me something to aim for.

And damn, his accomplishments were impressive. Not just flashy — truly impressive. Especially that yacht.

When I think of a yacht being built, I picture a giant warehouse space — dozens of people working in teams, huge cranes swinging overhead, welding torches flashing, massive machines churning for months to build one single ship. An army of labor. So much energy poured into it.

And my grandfather did it all by himself.

The hull. The wiring. The plumbing. The engines. The design, the blood, the years.

It's incredible. It still blows my mind when I stop and think about it.

Maybe I'm not explaining this right. He BUILT THE WHOLE THING BY HIMSELF.

Not a rowboat. Not a dinghy. Not a paddle boat.

A FUCKING YACHT.

He spent a decade enjoying it... and then SOLD it. He didn't have to. He could've kept it as a family heirloom (not that I would've seen it anyway, but hey — I digress... again).

Why am I really telling you all this?

Because that insane accomplishment has been sitting in the back of my mind, whispering to me, pushing me forward. Even if he was an emotionally unavailable bastard — he left behind a message: "You can build something incredible if you're stubborn enough."

And now here I am.

Yes, I went to school for IT (networking, specifically). No, I didn’t go to school for game development, worldbuilding, story design, coding, site building, devlogging — none of it.

I'm learning everything on the fly. I'm building two giant worlds simultaneously. I'm doing it with determination, the world’s smallest dev budget, while holding down a full-time job and trying to be a good husband, father, and dog owner.

And in my book?

That’s a one-up to what my grandfather accomplished.

Suck it, old man. I’m not just building a yacht. I’m building a whole damn universe.