Happy Sunday, and welcome back to Dry Powder.

In today’s issue, something a little different: The summertime saga of four billionaires on Nantucket—Charles Johnson, Harvey Jones, Christopher Quick, and Steve Karp—who banded together to secretly resolve a NIMBY legal dispute. It’s a real .00001-percent feel-good story that will reaffirm your faith in the American plutocracy.

But first…

• Trump’s SPAC stumble: It looks like investors are finally wising up to the SPAC scam that is Trump Media & Technology Group, the parent company of Trump’s Truth Social, his social media platform with very little revenue and plenty of losses. (The business generated less than $1 million in ad revenue in the first quarter of 2024, down 30 percent from a year earlier.) TMTG’s debut on the stock exchange in late March—after a merger with the Digital World Acquisition Corp. SPAC—was accompanied by a whole lot of hype. But the stock has taken a tumble since Trump’s conviction on May 30, dropping nearly 50 percent and cutting the value of Trump’s stake—he owns about 115 million shares, around 65 percent of the total shares outstanding—to around $3.2 billion, from roughly $6 billion.

  That’s still a lot of money, and it arrived just in time for him to post the bonds he needs to appeal his various civil and criminal convictions—although his sentencing in the Stormy Daniels case will be handed down on July 11. In fact, Trump’s stake in the SPAC might actually be his most valuable asset, given the weak market for golf clubs and the continued stress in the Manhattan Class B commercial real estate market. It remains to be seen whether the SPAC stock price is cratering because early investors are being allowed to sell their positions (Trump must wait until September), or whether it is a referendum on Trump’s political prospects and his ability to stay out of jail.

  It also remains to be seen how much money Trump will be able to extract from Truth Social come September. It’s a delicate balance, of course, because Trump is Truth Social. If he sells out of the company as soon as the lock-up on his stock expires, he’s sure to freak out other investors, which would make selling out all that much harder. That means he’ll have to approach selling on cat’s feet if he wants to maximize his windfall from a company with few actual prospects. But Trump is not known for subtlety in any aspect of his life, so I don’t expect him to be restrained when these shackles come off in September. This is why the other investors in TMTG should beware and might want to get out while the getting is good. (As always, this is not investment advice.)

• A note from the art world for my well-heeled readers: Art Price released its annual auction report that includes a ranking of the top 100 artists by auction volume. To no one’s surprise, Pablo Picasso remains the clear auction leader, with nearly $600 million in sales. At less than half that volume, Jean-Michel Basquiat was second with $238 million in sales. Zhang Daqian, a Chinese classical painter, came in third at $230 million. Gerhard Richter ($124M), Andy Warhol ($198M), Claude Monet ($197M), René Magritte ($192M), Yayoi Kusama ($189M), Gustav Klimt ($169M), and Qi Baishi ($157M) rounded out the top 10. —Marion Maneker

These properties are desirable not only for their quaintness and their proximity to the harbor, but also for their boat slips, which allow for the comings and goings of their sea-faring vessels, as well as a convenient downtown parking spot. Old North Wharf, first constructed in 1723, is also a co-operative, like many Manhattan apartment buildings, meaning that Johnson and his fellow billionaires on the wharf own stock in a corporation that owns the homes, and they get 99-year leases to live in them.

These small homes are positioned cheek to jowl, with various retail businesses hard up against them. Among the other billionaires who have cottages on the Old North Wharf are Harvey Jones, an early backer of Nvidia and C.E.O. of several tech companies, including Daisy Systems and Synopsis; Christopher Quick, whose family’s specialist firm was sold to Bank of America in 2004 (Quick paid $4 million for his 690-square-foot cottage in 2007); and Eric Schmidt, of Google fame. Charles Schwab, of his eponymous brokerage, also owns two cottages there, named Nautilus and Zenas Coffin, for which he paid a total of $10 million in 2021.

The “Clam Shack” controversy began in March 2023, when two local restaurateurs wanted to open a restaurant on the pier. Named the Straight Wharf Fish Market at the time—now just Straight Wharf Fish—the operation was meant to have a seafood market and a 62-seat restaurant, including 14 seats outside on the wharf itself. The business was going to replace a similar seafood market and ice cream shop that closed during the pandemic. The place would also serve beer and wine on a seasonal basis. It was originally supposed to close at 10 p.m., but that was shaved back an hour to try to accommodate the neighbors. “We aim to be that local clam shack that every cape and coastal town has on the water, serving classics like clam rolls, fish sandwiches, lobster rolls, and a few modern touches as well,” Kevin Burleson, one of the two chefs, wrote to the town’s Select Board on the license application.

But the wailing and gnashing of teeth from the Old North Wharf billionaires began almost immediately. Among the first to object were Schwab and Johnson, who hired a high-powered Boston attorney, Danielle deBenedictis, who also owns The Summer House, a hotel on the eastern side of the island (that has had its own problems, but that’s a different story). “It is rumored that the project as planned will have a full bar, dancing, music, and outdoor seating,” Johnson emailed his billionaire neighbors in the co-op. “It will essentially be a nightclub.” DeBenedictis submitted a letter to the Select Board on behalf of her clients, Schwab and Johnson, noting that the restaurant would be within 18 inches of Johnson’s Omega and “extremely close” to Schwab’s Nautilus. “The proposed transformation would destroy the ambiance and peaceful nature of Old North Wharf,” she wrote, “and further contribute to the change in character of the Nantucket Waterfront from an historic site to a mecca for multiple rowdy bars and restaurants.”

In her letter, deBenedictis also objected to the potential issuance of a liquor license to the restaurant—the previous ice cream parlor and the fish market did not have one—and the potential noise and foot traffic that the restaurant would generate. She even objected to the “reputation” of the applicant. (An article in the Nantucket Current, a local online publication, noted that the property in which the new restaurant was being built was owned by another billionaire, Boston developer Steve Karp.) In his own letter to the Select Board, Jones, the Nvidia billionaire, wrote, “While the fish and ice cream were popular, there was no alcohol involved and their hours were reasonable. The prospect of a new bar and restaurant immediately adjacent to the [co-op] is scary and threatens the very quality of life on the wharf.”

Then The Boston Globe, which is owned by billionaire (and Nantucket resident) John Henry, who also owns the Boston Red Sox, picked up on the story. Last July 3, Brian McGrory, a Globe columnist, sunk his teeth into the delicious conflict. “There’ll be a movie made out of all of this someday,” he wrote. “Have zero doubt. Producers will convince a big-name actor to risk his career by playing the role of crotchety 90-year-old billionaire Charles Johnson in his quest to kill a proposed clam shack on Nantucket. They’ll scour B-lists to find an actress to play Johnson’s bungling lawyer, Danielle deBenedictis. Someone get Ellen DeGeneres on the line.”

A week later, Jones and Quick wrote a letter to the Globe criticizing McGrory’s depiction of Johnson and his lawyer as “two-dimensional villains, bordering on caricatures.” The billionaires noted that Karp, another billionaire, owned the property, and that the fight was not a David versus Goliath battle, but more of a billionaire vs. billionaire battle. Then, much to everyone’s surprise, Johnson walked into the offices of the Nantucket Current for an interview. He unloaded on Karp, noting that his “P.R. team” had positioned Johnson as the billionaire bad guy versus the local restaurateurs just trying to make a living, when it was really Karp who was paying for the renovations and who was enabling the two chefs. “Steve Karp is the one behind it,” Johnson said. “He’s calling the shots.”

The real problem, Johnson said, was the restaurant’s ventilation system, which was jutting out of the second floor of the building and had the potential to be spewing all sorts of cooking-type smells into Johnson’s backyard and into his bedroom (it’s worth noting that he rarely stays at Omega, since he owns several other, much larger homes on the island). “It’s 18 inches from my bedroom,” Johnson told the Current. “And my wife is allergic to fish.”

He also said that he had never met Karp, although they did have some communication early on as the whole project got underway. “Steve called me in March,” Johnson said. “He said we can work something out. I said let me think about it. I came up with six points. … I said no music outside and I wanted dinner music only inside, not the boom, boom, boom stuff. And the last thing was I don’t want your exhaust coming over to Old North Wharf.” An inspection of the exhaust system by the parties involved revealed that it was indeed cantilevered into Johnson’s property, and was a legitimate nuisance to him.

That’s when Bruce Percelay, a Boston developer who also owns both the Current and N Magazine, a thick glossy published in Nantucket mostly during the summer—and who has played a key role in the creation of the island’s Whaling Museum and the redevelopment of the hospital—decided that enough was enough. He picked up the phone and called Karp, whom he knew from the Nantucket hospital, where they both serve on the board of directors, and suggested that the quartet of billionaires meet to see if the dispute could be resolved more amicably—and privately. Perhaps, in fact, the offending exhaust system could be moved elsewhere on the property, away from Johnson’s viewshed. “There’s got to be a solution here,” Percelay told the four men. “I have a feeling there is a communication problem.” Reached for comment, Percelay said simply, “I felt that the continuation of the dispute was not in the best interest of the island and figured that the parties could resolve their differences if they all sat down together.”

In subsequent days, Karp agreed to bring his construction team to the site and design a solution to move the HVAC system. At a cost of something like $300,000, it was shifted to the other side of the building. “Steve went out of his way to make it amenable, to be a good neighbor,” Jones said. Problem solved! The lawsuits were quickly resolved, no doubt to the consternation of the lawyers getting paid by the hour. “Bruce deserves a lot of credit,” Jones told me.

Neither Chris Quick nor Steve Karp responded to my requests for comment. But Charlie Johnson cut to the chase. “I have said all I am going to say,” he wrote to me. “Steve Karp and I came to an amicable agreement on noise, seating, and hours,” making no mention of the offending HVAC system.

In any event, on a recent morning, Straight Wharf Fish was getting ready to open at 11 a.m. For those lucky enough to make it to the island, there’s a clam roll for $29 made with “whole belly” clams from Ipswich, Mass (home of the late John Updike), and “always beef-fat fried”; and a lobster roll, for $35, served either warm with brown butter and shallots or chilled with mayonnaise, crème fraiche, and celery. Hopefully, the former quarreling neighbors have the chance to enjoy these delicious offerings this summer. To paraphrase F. Scott Fitzgerald, there’s nothing quite like the consoling proximity of billionaires.