Well here I am at the local auction house Crichton-Speers in Mayfair
scouring a potential sale of vintage cars. My companion once again is
my great friend the marine underwriter Peter Van Clief-Cornish and his
new girlfriend Carla Marlhon a delight from the Tuscan city of
Florence.
I had taken an interest in an old 1933 Alfa Romeo 8C, long chassis with
body by Carrozzeria which had been found in a barn just outside Avignon
in July last year and since had ‘minor’ surgery. My intention was to
unload my bank balances and any additional sums set aside for my
children’s benefit and purchase this wonderful beasty. I had already
rehearsed my opening gambit to the wife, already aware of the tennis
match of serve and counter serve that would ensue.
So here we are in a hall brimming with those that know and those that
play football or appear on some ‘Celebrity’ type television show and
have money but absolutely no brains. The problem with this bunch of see
through brainless bin-end Charlies is that through their ignorance they
can happily bid up the price for the rest of us. The same can happen in
the markets too, be wary.
Now then we sought out suitable seats where we could observe our
competition when the bidding started….a lot of ladies pushed through
stinking of the perfume counter in some second-hand department store
accompanied by their “loves” badly suited prats with the largest watch
known to man strapped to their wrist.
Now then, the auction starts…a few old Healeys and MG’s went through
followed by a Ferrari once owned by a minor Yank movie star in the
1960’s. We were thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere and the champers was
dropping down the throat with such ease we had lost track of the glass
total. Then we readied ourselves for the lovely old Alfa, on it rolled.
She oozed charm and singular style…like Audrey Hepburn in a film she
simply made everything else pale into the background. The leather seats
looked wonderfully worn and the instruments appeared surgical in their
delicate nature. The Alfa even in its current state looked incredible
and ..in my view, undervalued. Now, occasionally you find a stock in
similar condition, been around a long time, ignored, forgotten by the
millions who trade around it. But this stock holds a secret, the
company is fine, perhaps not exciting at first sight, but just look at
the value relative to the current price. You check the numbers, charts,
reports and it leads you to the impression what we have here is a
sleeper.
I waited for the bidding to start and watched it twitch into life….slow
to start and then it got up and running. I have to confess that to
switch emotion off as you look at old cars with me is very, very
difficult…I entered the bidding. Lets leave the actual figures that
were involved out of this due to the fact that my dear wife would slice
off various key organs should she hear. Ten minutes in and the bidding
was running warm and at this point my companions were looking
uncomfortable, I considered my position.
At the end of the evening as we strolled along Davies Street I
had lost, lost to a French collector Vachille, still he will now have a
wonderful thoroughbred gold standard sleeper, which with a little care
and nurturing will return endless amounts. He will restore it just
enough and then the world will take another look, and the value will
explode.
Your equities can do the same, you hold a wonderful sleeper,
take the dividend and then with luck the world will awake and find your
company. Your steady nerve will hopefully be repaid several times over
and good for you!
For me, well there is another auction coming up in Geneva, and my dream
will be awoken once more.
All the best.
Carl
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