Conch Coffee came from a long break. The kind of break many of us wish for—time to do whatever we want. The problem is, when we’re young and free, we don’t have the money. When we get the money, we have families and responsibilities that hold us back. I started a business in the marine industry when I was in my twenties. I was lucky, in the right place at the right time. The business grew quickly, and I found a niche with a product people wanted.

Fifteen years later, I had a family—two kids, a wife—and my business had grown to nearly 100 people. I merged it with one of my best friends from childhood. We sold it to a public company. It was a ride. Highs and lows. But then, after all that, I found myself consulting for the company that bought us. And one day, I got a call. They didn’t need me anymore. I was let go.

It hurt. I won’t lie. After years of building something, it was a hard blow to the ego. But if I’m honest with myself, I wasn’t happy. I loved the startup phase—the building, the creating, the branding. The excitement. Once the business was sold, the thrill faded. I found myself asking, Now what? I had time and money for the first time in years. It was a balance I’d always dreamed of. And that balance gave me the chance to focus on what mattered—my family. I spent more time with my kids, watching them grow, really being there. It was the best part of this new chapter.

But something was still missing. I missed business. Not the grind of the day-to-day, but the connection with people. With customers. Finding common ground. In today’s world, it’s easy to get lost in distractions. Social media. Noise. But we all have things in common, and that’s what I wanted to focus on. In my old business, that common thread was water—being on it, fishing, hanging out with family. That’s where I made lifelong friends and built memories I’ll never forget.

During my break, I started a list of business ideas. Some days I wrote down a dozen. Other days, nothing at all. Creativity doesn’t come on command. It comes when it comes. Some ideas stuck, others faded. As the list grew, a few seemed solid, but profits weren’t what I was after. I needed something that stirred me. Then, one morning, as I sipped my espresso, it hit me: Coffee. It brings people together. We drink it to wake up. It’s a shared experience. For as long as I can remember, I’ve started my day with a good cup of coffee. But I never really thought about what went into it—how much work, how much care, how much time goes into each bean.

So I dove deep. I learned everything I could—about coffee, its history, where it comes from, how it’s grown. It was a journey, and when I came out of it, I knew. Coffee was the next chapter. It would take me back to places I’ve been and push me to new ones. It would introduce me to new people and reconnect me with old friends. Coffee is a universal language. It’s spoken by millions.

Now, life feels right again. That empty space is filled. I’ve learned what I’m good at, and what I’m not. I’ve teamed up with some of my best friends to start Conch Coffee. They bring skills I don’t have, and together, we’re excited to build something new. We’re putting everything we have into it—just as we hope you’ll put everything you have into your cup of Conch Coffee.