A few years ago, I commissioned a master sword-maker in Europe to make me a Petersen type H, late Migration era “viking” sword. It was lucky timing that I purchased my sword when I did because that same year, he stopped making custom swords for private individuals and began exclusively selling to museums. But there was another reason the timing was right to buy the sword when I did: the dollar was at the beginning of a steep decline against the Pound and the Euro.
Paul, the swordmaker, had given me the option to pay up front, or to wait until the sword was finished to pay him. I decided that since I had the cash on me, I’d pay the 800 Great Britain Pounds he quoted me immediately. Then I waited. Every few months he’d call me or write me and ask me to measure the width of my hand, or the distance from my thumb to the floor while standing, or stuff like that. It wasn’t until fully 18 months later that the sword arrived and I was very excited to show it off. My first conversation about the sword went something like this:
me: ” This ain’t like one of those $50 mall swords”
Friend: ” Really? How much was it?”
me: “like 800 pounds”
friend: “How much is that in dollars?”
me: “just shy of a grand.”
friend: “ummm, no it ain’t, 800 pounds is almost 1600 dollars”
At that moment my thoughts went to the safe I had in my bedroom that had been stacked with $20 bills; my version of a bank account since I could find no compelling reason I should give someone else my money for storage. I suddenly realized that the entire previous year of hording my pay from my stockboy job at staples was literally “going bad” like over ripe bananas the longer I sat on it. I had to get rid of these perishable Federal Reserve Notes and quick. I immediately thought of buying precious metals.
I knew nothing at all about investing – nothing – so I made my first investment with only a fraction of my rapidly spoiling fiat currency. I thought I would buy some gold because that’s what I was always hearing about. But Gold was over 500 dollars for each coin! There was a really awesome platinum coin I wanted with a Viking ship on it, but it was even more expensive than gold. I felt that Gold and Platinum were too concentrated a store of wealth. If one day I wanted to sell it, and there was a great depression, who could afford to buy it from me?
So I decided on Silver, which was almost up to 9 dollars an ounce at the time. With the “what if I have to make change in Mad Max’s barter town one day” scenario in mind, I bought several dozen one ounce “rounds” and several dozen one ounce bars. I bought just enough so that the price break equated to free shipping.
Several weeks had passed and I still had not gotten my delivery, but Silver had climbed up to 12.75 an ounce. So I went all in and scraped all but the last bit of decaying greenbacks off their steel shelf and sent them off. This time I bought some bulkier silver bars: a few 10 ouncers and a bunch of 5 ouncers.
By the time I actually received the shipment, the spot price of silver had climbed up to 17 an ounce and then, a few months later, $25 an ounce.
So compelling was the evidence that I had made a good decision hastily, that I went and did the research which I probably should have done in the first place. This is what I gleamed from the experience:
Disclaimer: I am not some finance guru. Your mileage may, and probably will, vary if you decide to take this article as advice. If a mile-wide sterling silver asteroid falls from the sky and lands on the White House, driving the value of your silver investment down lower than the price of dirt, don’t blame me. This is not advice; just an anecdote about my experience.