I’m Going To Need A Bigger Boat

By Rupert Truscott-Hughes on February 19, 2016 in Other

If there is one thing I learnt over the Christmas/New Year period, it’s that I’m going to need a bigger boat. This has absolutely nothing to do with purchasing a vehicle from an American-owned car company (the name of which I shall not mention) after what was undoubtedly a great ad campaign, for I’d never trade the Porsche Cayenne for such a poor substitute and my existing boat is far too big to be pulled by such a vehicle anyway.

The reason I require an upgrade is quite simple – to save face. You see, on Boxing Day, whilst jostling for position near the starting line of the Sydney to Hobart yacht race and reminiscing about the days of yore when I used to take part in the illustrious event, my Sunseeker Manhattan 65 was unceremoniously shunted out of the way by the wake of a booming twin hull monstrosity that must’ve been in excess of 100-feet in length. It was a thing of beauty and extravagance the likes I’ve rarely encountered before in Sydney Harbour.

Thankfully my crew and I didn’t suffer the same fate as the starting vessel that sank, or the craft that made the cover of numerous Sydney papers after submerging near Lady Jane Beach, the crew of which suffered the ignominy of being rescued by a bunch of sunbathing nudists, but I did still feel a little perturbed.

Is it bad to feel this sort of boat envy? Is this how other mere mortals feel about me when I swan past their inferior craft in my shiny new tub? I feel like Allan Bond in that incredibly racist Kevin ‘Bloody’ Wilson song, ‘Livin’ Next Door To Allan’, when his neighbours get “the HMAS Melbourne on some sort of government loan”. If only I had the contact details for Ben Lexcen.

As the Sydney to Hobart got underway and the top contenders flew through the heads, few boats could keep up, but this enormous vessel, which wouldn’t be out of place operating as a passenger ferry given its sheer size, cut a swathe through the sea down to Bondi, with only eventual race winner Comanche outpacing it, before returning back the calm of the harbour.

I honestly thought I was killing it with my ten guests, five-star catering and 60-odd foot boat, but I was clearly out-gunned by this behemoth that I have since seen moored at Woolloomooloo wharf (the biggest boat there by a country mile). God knows what such a wonderful piece of engineering would have set the owner back, but from one wealthy boat owner to another, I can say that I am suitably impressed.

I guess the moral of this story is that no matter how big your boat, there is always someone with something bigger and better. Maybe I should just enjoy what I’ve already got. After all, there are plenty of people out there who rarely see the harbour, let alone get to spend time on it.