How it started
The Spark, The Heartbreak, and The Universe: How We Fell in Love with Wooden Boats
Every great adventure has a turning point—a specific moment where a casual curiosity transforms into a lifelong obsession. For us, that moment didn't happen on the historic Yorktown waterfront where we dock today. It happened entirely by accident, tucked away in the mountains of Virginia.
The Spark at Smith Mountain Lake
It was a classic weekend getaway with close friends at Smith Mountain Lake. We were enjoying the water, completely disconnected from our usual routines, when we happened to cruise past a local marina. Bobbing gently in a slip was a vintage Hacker-Craft.
Now, we already appreciated maritime history and understood the legacy of classic wooden hulls. But seeing that gleaming, polished wood cutting through the water in person? It was an instant, overwhelming thunderbolt. We fell completely, hopelessly in love.
We didn’t know how or when, but as we looked at each other, a silent agreement passed between us: someday, we were going to own a piece of this history.
The Heartbreak of Cygnus II
A year of dreaming led to active searching. And that’s when she found us: Cygnus II, an incredible 60-foot, 1929 flat-top motor yacht designed by Kromholz Brothers. She was the ultimate manifestation of our dream—stately, historic, and breathtaking.
But there was a catch. She was originally listed at a staggering $150,000, a price tag well beyond our budget. Yet, we were so enchanted that we were seriously calculating how to make an offer. Ultimately, we forced ourselves to be responsible. We stepped back, whispered to ourselves that the right boat would arrive at the right time, and walked away.
Another entire year went by. We found out Cygnus II was still for sale, but she had been moved out of the water and into a boatyard. This time, the owners had dropped the price significantly to $50,000. We went back to visit her, the love still just as strong, but a deeper inspection revealed a leak near her portside shaft drive. She had taken on a certain amount of water, leaving far too much to the unknown.
Because of the heavy risks and work required, we decided to make a calculated, protective offer of $15,000. That night, sitting at home, we couldn't stop talking about her. We were ready to call the marina owner the next morning to finalize our plans.
Then came the phone call. Just hours after we submitted our paperwork, the owners informed us that Cygnus II had been sold to another buyer who swooped in with a $20,000 offer. We were completely heartbroken. We had lost her.
When Cat Looks, Travis Finds
Months passed. The sting of losing Cygnus II faded into a quiet acceptance, though the previous owners actually stayed in touch, so moved by our passion that they tried helping us look for other vessels. Eventually, we stopped actively searching.
But if you know Cat, you know she doesn't give up on a vision easily.
On a random afternoon, while casually scrolling through Facebook Marketplace, a listing popped up. It was a vintage wooden cruiser—not a massive 60-footer, but smaller, completely manageable, and radiating timeless charm.
A sudden wave of clarity hit us. Maybe the universe was telling us to start smaller. Maybe we needed to truly live with, work on, and understand the soul of a smaller wooden boat before managing a giant yacht. Cat immediately sent the link to Travis, who is always looking for a way to bring her visions to life.
Destination: Mathews
The listing felt like a cosmic joke. The boat was a Matthews Cruiser—and it was located in Mathews, Virginia, a small coastal town just an hour away from our home. We jumped in the car. The moment we pulled into the marina, we knew we were exactly where we were supposed to be. It was a true working-class wooden boat sanctuary, surrounded by character, history, and people who lived and breathed classic restoration.
And then, we walked down the dock and saw her. It was literal love at first sight.
As we explored her, we realized she wasn't just any vintage boat. She was a 1929 Matthews 38, famously marketed in her era as a boat built specifically for "the gentleman and his lady."
It is a vessel designed entirely around romance and connection. The layout features an incredible dual-cabin separation, offering more than enough privacy for a man and a woman to completely step away from the world while cruising. But the most magical detail? Nestled right on the bow of the boat is a literal built-in love seat. It was designed for a couple to sit side-by-side, entirely away from the cockpit, watching the shoreline unfold ahead of them.
Every single feature was exactly what the universe needed to give us to start this new adventure. The negotiation wasn't completely seamless—our first offer was rejected—but we persisted, put forward a second offer, and she was ours.
Travis and I are people who love history, who love romance, and who believe that objects built with intent carry a soul. Vendée is the first, but she won't be the last. The dream of that 60-foot flat-top is still alive, but right now, we are building the foundation of a vintage wooden fleet, one historic, romantic mile at a time.