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I heard an industry spokesperson say something the other day at a press event that seemed a little strange, at least at first. "The competitors for the products we build are not the manufacturers of other boats and engines," the guy said earnestly, "it's everything else—by which I mean golf courses, condominiums, RVs, motorcycles."
A couple of heads nodded. But otherwise the pronouncement seemed to initially affect everybody else in the room the same way it did me. The very idea that traipsing around a golf course or kicking back in some glitzy condo 20 stories above the ocean might supplant the joys of boating was simply preposterous. I mean, golf? The sport Mark Twain rightly disparaged as "a good walk ruined"?
But then I got to thinkin'.
Just a couple of days prior, I'd tested a vessel that, in terms of both her mission and design philosophy, seemed to absolutely validate the spokesperson's remarks. Indeed, while Bluewater Yachts' Legacy 65 easily qualifies for mainstream-motoryacht status, there's little doubt she also qualifies as a competitor with a whole raft of products manufactured outside the marine venue, from golf balls to condos.
The ample, residential feel of her saloon/galley/dinette area had been the up-front indicator of this. When I stepped aboard from one of the floating docks behind Fort Lauderdale's Marina Bay Resort, I immediately picked up on the immensity of the living space I'd entered through a back-porch-style sliding door located on the starboard side. "How wide is this baby?" I asked Steve Klapmeier, Bluewater's president, who was seated at the Corian-topped galley bar next to Bluewater's company captain, Dick Jaeckel. Klapmeier's reply of "18 feet" quickly sent me into comparison mode, running through a few 60-somethings I'd either wrung out or looked at over the years. Let's see: There was the Aicon 64, with a beam of 17'4"; the Ocean 65 Odyssey, with a beam of 17'5"; and the Carver 65 Marquis, with a beam of 17'11". None of these yachts represented a match for the Bluewater.
But there was more to the deal than just beamy immensity. Take a look at the layout drawing that accompanies this test report. The footprint of the 65, when viewed from above, is fundamentally rectangular, even in some of the forward sections. How does such a departure from the norm manifest inside the vessel? By comparison with curvier, pointier cruisers inhabiting the mid- to upper-range niche, the 65 is not only wider in both mid- and forebodies, she's undeniably more residential in flavor—or, if you like, more condominium-esque.
For example, walls and bulkheads intersect at right angles and arise from a succession of multilevel decks with the same orientation. Sizeable screened windows, which easily slide open, encompass living areas and offer views more in keeping with cottages than cruisers. And due to the vessel's relatively low vertical center of gravity and concomitant low superstructure, these views are available from the comfy depths of the lounges and easy chairs onboard. In fact, I found that kicking back on the L-shape settee abaft the lower helm station is akin to kicking back in a living-room recliner.
The rest of the interior layout dovetails with this theme. The master stateroom abaft the centrally located saloon/ galley/dinette area is large and offers an ambiance more reminiscent of bedrooms than staterooms. Just above a long, built-in cherry desk running athwartship across the back bulkhead, there's a giant window with an excellent view aft. An adjoining "back door" opens onto a broad swim platform that, to strain the condo metaphor to the breaking point perhaps, is rather more like a patio than anything else, especially in terms of size. And the berth, a six-inch-thick, 6'4"x6'9" extravaganza comprised of several layers and densities of foam (with a big slab of memory foam on top), is larger and plusher than you'll find in most luxury hotels.
"What a way to travel," I opined after finishing with the VIP and guest staterooms. The former was darn near as ample as the master, albeit slightly more pointy due to its location in the bow, and just as replete with savvy design details, including a lofty clearance of 3'8" over the island berth and cedar-lined hanging lockers. The berth in the latter? Well, let's just say that in keeping with my belief that the professional boat tester should test every possible aspect of his subject, I laid down on the mattress for a few moments just to test its relaxational possibilities. And while such a diversion may seem like small potatoes, it nevertheless handed me a direct appreciation for the 65's true, trail-hitting potential.
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