How a Walk on the Beach Accidentally Started a Business

Back in early 1984, my wife and I decided we needed a break from the hustle and dust of the construction world. So we packed our bags, left the hard hats behind, and headed to sunny Calahonda on Spain’s Costa del Sol for a 10-day escape—and maybe, just maybe, to sniff out a potential holiday home.

One glorious morning, powered by strong coffee and curiosity, we wandered down the beach and stumbled across Puerto Cabopino—a small but stunning marina that seemed freshly unwrapped. It had everything: yachts, sunshine, and restaurants with tables so close to the beach your feet got sanded while eating. We were smitten.

After a few days of enjoying grilled sardines and sipping wine by the sea, a new thought surfaced: "Wouldn’t it be nice to have our boat here instead of back in rainy old Blighty?" So, naturally, I trotted off to the marina office, full of enthusiasm and visions of Mediterranean boating glory. What I got instead was a shrugging, sunburnt gatekeeper who informed me there were no berths available. When I asked how I might find out if one became free, he offered a helpful “Ask around,” before promptly going back to doing absolutely nothing. Brilliant.

Luckily, help came from an unexpected source—a friendly restaurant owner we’d become chummy with (mostly thanks to our devotion to his Prawn Pil Pil). He explained that many of the berths were privately owned, with people buying or selling them through local gossip or tiny classified ads. It was Spain’s version of the stock market—just with more paella.

He also revealed a few quirks: The majority of Spanish marinas operate on concession periods (like leaseholds), owners pay annual community fees, and best of all—buying a berth was cheaper than renting over time and came with that golden feeling of security. Cue lightbulb moment.

If this was how it worked, surely other people were just as baffled as I had been. Why not create a small business to help boat owners buy and sell marina berths, since the rental side was locked up by the marinas?
Back in the UK, I put the plan into action. I placed small, polite ads in local Spanish newspapers, in my best tourist-level Spanish: "Boat mooring required – Puerto Cabopino." Week one: nothing. Week two: crickets. Week three: a single reply. Week four? Boom—twelve replies! There was just one small problem: I had forgotten to mention the size of my boat, so most of the offers were for berths either fit for a dinghy or big enough to berth the QE2.

Still, the snowball kept rolling. Soon, I was getting calls about berths for sale in other marinas too—not just Cabopino. Within 12 weeks, I had over 40 responses from people looking to sell berths all along the Costa del Sol. All because I fancied a walk on the beach and got rejected by a sunburnt receptionist.

And just like that, a business was born.