We like our RIB. We love our RIB. It’s an essential part of our lives and the passion is … well … let’s call it kinda cosmic.
“We would like it in our living room or in a special place where we can watch it, feel the waves again and smell the wind. As we walk around the engine fumes prickle our brains and yes, we get RIB high. For us it’s a natural high. Some of us are the lucky ones. They rib every single day. Every single day! We call them ‘the Chosen’.
And when it comes to finally buying our RIB, we have stories to tell, knowledge to share, consulted the oracle a hundred times. The long awaited moment is there. We carry our golden coins in a jar and our hands are sweaty. Sometimes we had to fight for these coins but we did it. We’re here.
And then, like the sky is opening to reveal the sun … there is the one and only, the key holder to our passion. The dealer. The one we trust. The sequel is known. We RIB and have stories to tell.”
But it’s not all rosy. The fairy tale can end in a nightmare. The product is outstanding, the references breath taking, the build and functionality jaw-dropping but when the dealer chooses to head down another way, he leaves a trail of angry passionates with empty jars behind. RIB enthousiasts full of disbelief, some angry, some fierce. This is what happened in Lymington, UK. But Gemini will continue in the UK. Anyone who knows what a RIB could or should be, acknowledges that the Gemini brand is a solid one. Like a good RIB friend stated: another one probably being too big for one’s boots.