Your Yacht or Mine?

Chalk it up to the lull of the waves or the caress of the sea breezes-there's something about being on the water that brings out the good times. And if that's true for even the smallest sailing vessel, how much more fun is a party on a yacht or megayacht, where the joys of cruising don't mean sacrificing any creature comforts? For local yacht owners, their luxury craft are the perfect venues for entertaining friends old and new, all against a backdrop of unexpected moments, favorite destinations and the occasional rough passage.

"There's a reason people are drawn to the sea," says David Lester. A few years ago, he and his wife, Lee Ann, bought a 94-foot Ferretti yacht, the Fortunata, and set sail for a 15-month journey that took them from their Naples home "almost to the North Pole." A yacht may offer all the comforts of home, Lester says, but sailing it "always feels like an adventure."

And it's true that something exciting can happen at any moment. At last year's Bal de la Mer, the annual yacht rendezvous in Monaco, the romance of the tiny principality proved infectious at a gathering aboard Penny and Lee Andersons' 177-foot Trinity yacht, Katharine. In front of a group that included jewelry designer Michael Beaudry, the Andersons' friend Mark Grosvenor sank to one knee and re-proposed to his wife of 20 years, Melissa, with a 10-carat Beaudry-designed diamond ring. There were "oohs and ahs" from the crowd (and a few squirms from the commitment-phobic who were afraid they'd be expected to produce their own jewels-and vows). The passionate ploy was capped off by a Jesuit priest who just happened to be onboard (really) and who renewed their vows on the spot.

The romance and glamour are even sweeter when they're hard won. Mary Susan Clinton says the yacht she and her husband, J.D., owned, the 74-foot Nasus, was once stuck in a slip in Fort Lauderdale awaiting furniture. While their staterooms were awash in sleeping bags and plastic chairs, the oversized yacht next to them boasted gilt interior detailing and a glamorous cocktail crowd. The owner? Jimmy Dean, of country music and frozen food fame, who introduced himself by walking up their gangplank offering a package of his namesake sausage. The Clintons' excited chef threw open the Nasus' fridge to reveal an entire case of the product. Not only did the Deans invite the Clintons to dinner aboard their yacht, Big Bad John, but they helped them arrange the furniture that arrived the next day.

The always changeable weather might be good for some excitement-or at least a conversational gambit-but guests normally remain clueless about rough crossings, sometimes deliberately so. One captain remembers the six hours he spent praying he could guide the boat through a pea-soup fog around St. Petersburg, while his cruising party kept up a chorus of "Are we there yet?"

More typical is the stiff upper lip exhibited by a friend from London who joined David and Lee Ann Lester in Tortola, in the British Virgin Isles. They were enjoying a midnight cocktail when the yacht foundered on a rocky outpost, perilously close to a waterfront restaurant. While the crew and some of the restaurant staff extracted the ship, the Lesters' pal assured his hosts that it only made his vacation more exciting.

Some excursions do boast guests from Hades, including a dinner party group not so long ago that was so demanding that the first mate jumped ship right before the yacht sailed, leaving the party and the yacht's (anonymous) captain to fend for themselves for the next 11 hours at sea. But normally even the tightest-strung Type A unwinds on the water. "When our feet are on the ground, we expect things to run a certain way," says Janice Kemp, who has hosted artists, art collectors and gallery and museum types on Le Club Tarpon, a classic 90-foot Palmer Johnson owned by Fort Myers hospitality and art magnate Don Binns. Cruising, Kemp says, is "the antithesis of structure," and yet those who use their time at sea to take care of business often find that they get more done than they would under the fluorescent lights of the office.

Certain traditions do rule the waves. Susan Gohl has welcomed hundreds of guests aboard Susanna Bella, the custom 106-foot Lazzara yacht that she and her husband, Fred, own, but all of those guests are required to leave their Manolo Blahniks or loafers at the gangplank. When the Port Royal residents aren't enjoying cruises and dinners with friends, the Susanna Bella and the services of its captain, Scott Kelsch, are often turned over to cruising parties who have bid for their trips at fundraising galas for the nonprofits that the Gohls support.

When it's for a worthy cause, bidding high and often on a yacht trip sounds like a good thing. But before you raise your paddle, know that that maiden voyage can lead to an insatiable desire for a boat of one's own. At a Naples Winter Wine Festival auction a few years ago, friends Denise and Brian Cobb and Judy and Jerry Sheindlin scored a trip on the Katharine that had them instantly hooked. Even after the two couples bought a 148-foot Feadship, christened Her Honor, the judge was caught at last year's wine-fest auction losing a high-profile bidding war to financier Bruce Sherman for a trip on the 170-foot Feadship Dream. (In the judge's defense, the Sheindlins' and Cobbs' new toy was laid up in the Bahamas awaiting a paint job.)

The always practical judge says the world traveler will find a yacht the least stressful means of locomotion. "You unpack once, and the world comes to you," she says. The Sheindlins have taken friends to Spain and the French Rivera, and they cruised the coast of Italy with their five children, various grandchildren in tow.  The only downside, Judy Sheindlin says, is that when the large yacht is anchored offshore, she misses her usual long walks after dinner. (And you wondered how she stays so tiny.)

Even on days when the yacht is sailing at full throttle, there's no case of cabin fever that can't be cured by a stateroom nap or a good game of gin. (Or maybe a good stiff drink of gin.) Sometimes the comforts of the yacht are more tempting than those onshore. The Cobbs took their first big adventure on Her Honor this summer, a trip up the French Rivera with four area couples including Martha and Jim Fligg. Guest Kellie Burns-Garvey says the trendy restaurants of Cap d'Antibes and galas of Monaco were no match for the magic of Her Honor's chef, Jasper Somers.

The best yacht chefs buy local delicacies in port and can shop expertly at markets from Marco to Monaco. Wine aficionados can have particular vintages delivered to the yacht, as Brian Cobb does, or carry it onboard. "More wine than days on the boat to enjoy it" is how Lee Anderson describes his floating cellar. Having multiple sets of china aboard allows owners to set a different formal table every night, and themed dinners offer another way to mark the days and the yacht's location. If the Katharine is cruising around the boot of Italy, it's Italian night, which means a formal dining experience that includes the Andersons' collection of fine Venetian masks.

Port Royal resident John Morrison says he and his wife, Susan, do a mix of formal and casual dining when they're aboard their 109-foot La Dolce Vita, but the themed dinners appeal particularly to their grandchildren, who range from two to 14. Onboard entertainment-and a workout-for Grandpa includes keeping the rambunctious two-year-old away from the rails.

In general, one should take care when sailing with either of W.C. Fields' old nemeses: dogs or children. David and Lee Ann Lester's 10,000-mile world tour was paced by the frequent port (or pit) stops of a King Cavalier spaniel. And if an anticipated destination wouldn't accept the pet without impossible hurdles? The Lesters, and their canine royalty, sailed sadly away.

Shortly before they sold Nasus, the Clintons chartered it to a couple of progressive parents whose idea of potty training was to let their toddler roam diaper-free, much to the detriment of the yacht's custom fabrics. Having their own two sons aboard the yacht was a joy, Mary Susan Clinton says, but she does remember a cruise when the most familiar sight was not the turquoise waters of the Bahamas but a certain chubby purple dinosaur. While J.D. entertained guests on the top deck, she and the boys played-and replayed-Barney on the guest salon's VCR.

Cruising with grown children is much like traveling with old friends. (Except that, as John Morrison cheerfully admits, when friends draw straws for staterooms, he wouldn't pull the sleight-of-hand that makes the short straw look like the longest. Or maybe his pals wouldn't call him on it the way his children and grandchildren do.) For hard-charging executive and Port Royal resident Hap Fauth, life is all about go, but when he and his wife, Karen, sail with their children, now in their 20s, they enjoy a different, "low-key" kind of family time.