What About Weird Risks That Got Away?

In the world of unusual insurance coverage, some of the wildest risks are those where protection is requested, even offered, but never sold. Think of them as the weird risks that got away.

Jonathan Thomas, divisional underwriter for accident and health at Canopius Managing Agency, operating in the Lloyd's market, recalls the policy requested by an unnamed actor seeking protection against loss of chest hair.

The firm developed a policy that would kick in after more than 85 percent of the hair was lost. In order to collect on the policy, a panel of trichologists would have to make a finding of hairlessness. Lloyd's came up with a price, but the insurance was never purchased, Mr. Thomas noted.

He also related that he once pulled back a policy he was preparing for a U.S. "Legends of Rock" tour that at the time was to include James Brown, Jerry Lee Lewis and Roy Orbison. The policy would only have paid off if two of the stars became unable to perform.

But Mr. Thomas said he was not particularly anxious to take the broker's business--especially after a colleague nudged his arm and whispered that Mr. Brown had recently been arrested and, while not convicted, was residing in jail at the time.

Unabashed when he was confronted, the broker reportedly responded: "But two of them have got to miss concerts [before coverage kicks in]."

Bill Kinyon, a broker at the Clovis Insurance Center in Clovis, N.M., said several years ago a man in the firewood business called "wanting to know if I could insure firewood. I asked him what perils he wanted covered. He said, 'for fire.' I said I thought that was why you bought firewood--to burn. He didn't laugh." Mr. Kinyon said the man told him his banker wanted the wood insured.

"I got him a premium quotation. He didn't buy it," Mr. Kinyon related.

John Finnegan, president of Macomber Farr & Whitten agency in Augusta, Maine, remembers being approached to quote coverage for an 835-foot mothballed destroyer--the U.S.S. Charles Adams.

The plan at the time was to bring the ship up from Philadelphia and tie it up in Maine's Kennebec River, by the Bath Naval Shipyard, to convert the gunboat into a maritime museum.

Mr. Finnegan said that through Commercial Union's marine division in Boston, he was able to secure a towers and riggers policy to have the vessel pulled from Philadelphia to Bath. He noted that there were a few warranties needed for the coverage--including the assurance that all the cannon and weapons were completely disarmed.

Not much of a problem, said Mr. Finnegan, since none of the armaments had been fired since World War II.

The Charles Adams Museum never came to fruition, however. What happened? "It was scrapped," noted Mr. Finnegan.

At the time, he said, he had been looking forward to telling all his sailing and boating buddies "about the little skiff project we were about to write." Nevertheless, he said, the agency "considers ourselves well-seasoned in the mothballed destroyer department."