Vic Edelbrock, Jr. was every journalists’ dream. He was polite, giving of his time, and willingly answered question after question. Actually, he was more than willing. He seemed to genuinely enjoy answering questions as much as the journalist on the other end of the phone line enjoyed hearing the answers.

I count myself lucky to have been on that other end not once, but twice. Even though the last interview was more than a decade ago, I remember the conversation as clear as day. In fact, a story he told me then remains, hands down, my favorite of all time.

Edelbrock was recounting the happenings of his 66^th birthday. The day started out normally enough. He and his wife Nancy were spending time on Catalina Island, California, a place they loved visiting. They’d been active boaters for a while, most recently cruising aboard an 89-footer that Edelbrock had taken delivery of three years prior. He even designed the interior of that yacht mostly himself, to the point of having the galley pick up the distinctive checkerboard flooring of his retail stores, along with the equally distinctive red color of his company. However, the seemingly normal day took quite a distinctive turn—a happy one—when Nancy handed him a large rolled-up sheet of paper. Wrapped up in a big red, white, and blue bow, it was his birthday present. Edelbrock unrolled it to find a rendering of yacht that looked just like VictorE, the 89-footer.

“Oh, that’s nice, I’ll frame it and hang it,” he said.

“No, Vic, take a closer look,” Nancy prodded.

So he did. It wasn’t VictorE after all. It was a 110-footer whose lines were purposely similar. Turns out that Nancy and their captain had been secretly working with Edwin Monk & Son, which designed VictorE, to design a larger yacht as a birthday surprise.

And what a surprise! Edelbrock was delighted, even thrilled. His mind started racing with the possibilities. Then, a thought struck him: “How are we going to pay for this?” he asked Nancy.

“I don’t know, that’s your problem,” she quipped.

Suffice it to say, the problem was resolved. Quickly. And gleefully. Victorious was delivered in 2006, remaining a treasured part of their lives for years to come.

I’ve interviewed a lot of owners in my yachting career. I’ve tremendously enjoyed the range of conversations we’ve had. But Edelbrock was different. Special. It’s hard to describe in words, but he had a way of making you feel so comfortable, as if you’d been neighbors for years. You weren’t interviewing him as much as you were chatting together. It was as if you were sitting right next to him, too, instead of literally on the other side of the nation, connected through some miracle of circuits and copper wires.

Vic Edelbrock, Jr. died a few days ago, following complications from a cold. His family reports he passed peacefully, surrounded by them. He was 80 years old.

A decade ago, the majority of my readers knew, even revered, Edelbrock as the aftermarket automotive parts giant he was. I knew him as a gentleman, and a genuine man.

Vic Edelbrock, Jr. was one in a million. In so many ways.

Oftentimes, the way a yacht gets her name is a story in and of itself. I particularly like the creative way some owners combine initials of family members. The owners of JeMaSa named the yacht for their children, for example. Then there’s the former Vajoliroja, named for the mom (“Va” for “Vanessa”), the dad (“jo” for “Johnny”), and their two kids (“liro,” for Lily Rose, and “ja” for “Jack”). But, one of my all-time favorite stories is how the 162-foot Remember When got her name. While it doesn’t mention any single person, it does recall all those who the owner has shared times with on the water.

Months before delivery in 2010, that owner, John Rosatti, was stumped. He was having a devil of a time coming up with a name for the new yacht. Well, all wasn’t lost. He knew he wanted something that reflected the idea of the easygoing cruising experience. That’s why his three previous yachts used “Easy” in their nameboards. In fact, two were Take It Easy, and the third was Nice N Easy. But this time around, “Easy” just wasn’t cutting it, whether in combination with other words or on its own.

Inspiration struck, when he least expected it. (Funny how that happens.) Rosatti was sitting on the aft deck of Nice N Easy one day with a group of friends, talking about their travels together. “Remember when we did…” commented one friend, to which everyone smiled and nodded and began contributing memories. “Remember when we…” chimed in another. Then another. And then another.

And suddenly, Rosatti knew.

Tripping down memory lane, he virtually stumbled upon the name for his new yacht.

On a related side note, “Remember When” happens also to be the title of a song by one of Rosatti’s favorite performers, Alan Jackson. In addressing the ups and downs of their life together, Jackson sings to his wife, “Remember when 30 seemed old? Now lookin’ back it’s just a stepping stone to where we are, where we’ve been. Said we’d do it all again. Remember when.”

If you see Remember When get underway, keep your ears open: Her horns play a few bars of the song.

“Live life to the limit, every moment of every day. Do it! I say. Whatever you want to do, do it now! There are only so many tomorrows.”

These words might as well be the mantra of Jo Ellard. That’s her pictured at top right. Jo is a woman who knows what she wants and when she wants it. She’s also a yacht owner who knows how to get the most out of cruising. About 40 years ago, she and her husband bought their first boat, a 33-foot Chris-Craft. She was so excited that she enrolled in boat-handling classes—and took the helm every time (yes, every time) they went out on the water. Fast forward a few years, and Jo wanted to stop doing all the driving and start relaxing. So, they purchased a 64-footer. For the next two decades, Jo and her husband cruised all over the Gulf Coast. (“She’s still out there, and lookin’ great!” Jo says, with a Texas drawl.)

Just before her husband died seven years ago, Jo says he told her, “We need to get you another boat.” Despite looking at 15 different brokerage boats from five different builders, Jo couldn’t find what she wanted. Why was it so hard to find an open flying bridge, three staterooms, and a few other creature comforts all on the same boat?

It wasn’t, when someone told her about a Horizon 76 located in Key Largo, Florida. “I knew in five minutes on the boat that it was right!” Jo asserts. “I’m not a big changer; I know what I want and how I want it.”

Jo owned that yacht for six years. When she says, “We had so much fun!” you know it’s an understatement. The only reason she doesn’t own the yacht now is because she sold it, to take delivery of a new-build Horizon 98. The name? Do It Now, of course—the same name as the 76, and the words she lives by.

Those words, along with the rest of the quote at top, are on a plaque mounted in the galley aboard Do It Now. They’re from the late Pope John Paul VI, who wrote that we’d be far more motivated to live life to the fullest if we knew from the start that we won’t live forever.

Whatever your stage, whatever your age, do what Jo does: Do It Now.