The Story of Our Sceptre 41 Sailboat

The Story of Our Sceptre 41 Sailboat

I was born in 1988 in the coastal city of Richmond, British Columbia, and named Rhapsody upon birth. Although my family tree is only 11 years long, my lineage made a mark on the world of sailboats, being recognized as “not just another sailboat” but a true game changer in design and construction. 

Sailboats in a Marina. Credit: Writer Jacks

I was #36 in a family of 53. My father was Hein Driehuyzen. Little is known about his pre-Sceptre career and life. It is rumored that he was a forestry engineer of some sort before sailboat design took over his existence and identity. He died at the age of 76 in Richmond, British Columbia. There are no 23andMe ancestry kits for me, so if you know anything about dear old dad, please share.

Hein labored in his workshop day and night, dreaming, wishing, and creating a sailboat like no other. Eventually, like Gepetto, his wish for a real boat came to life. And like Pinocchio, the Sceptres would be born, and we would prove ourselves to be brave, truthful, and unselfish.

At birth, I was a sleek 41’ in length, decked in fiberglass, with a mighty 55 HP Turbo Diesel Yanmar purring inside my tremendous chest. My crown was a stunning but rare Pilot House, which allowed sailors to keep on course from an inside helm, out of the cold weather and elements of the Pacific Northwest. 

I was a proud Mistress of the Seas, being dubbed “one of the world’s best sailboats” by Ferenc Mate–in his book The World’s Best Sailboats. I was ahead of my time, with a walk-through transom and a roomy boudoir, providing comfortable and ample rest for my inhabitants.

As Rhapsody, I enjoyed my first years sailing around the Salish Sea, discovering the San Juan and Gulf Islands. Those times were filled with adventures and mishaps, triumphs and achievements, which my captain meticulously documented in my Vessel Log. We had a few minor repairs, and my dinghy was stolen. When it was recovered, only the fabric remained. Many boat friends came aboard for visits, carefully marking their names in my Vessel Log.

In 1999, a new owner found me, and like a puppy from the pound, a new name was bestowed. My next adventure would be as—-PongoPongo II, a name that refers to an infantry or army officer. Why I was rechristened PongoPongo remains a mystery, as do the next many years of my life, as this captain would no longer detail my journey in the vessel log. 

Eventually, my ocean roamings became more infrequent; the distances sailed lessened with each passing year and season. And then, I sat, no longer exploring the blue waters that surrounded me or the islands that bobbed above the surface so near.

It wouldn’t be until the beginning of 2023 that I would be listed for sale, and my new humans would find me.

I was sitting in the freshwater of Lake Union, Seattle, Washington, stowed under a piling, when Mike Mullenberg of Pacific Cruising Yachts would find me and negotiate my freedom. 

Mike lives in Anacortes, which is only 80  miles away but a two-plus-hour drive away.  He had been conducting what Tommy Lee Jones called “a hard-target search of every gas station, residence, warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse, outhouse and doghouse in the area” for a specific boat for his humans, and when he found me, a lightbulb went off. 

He immediately called his humans, who were 7,200 miles away on the North Island of New Zealand, and then he packed up his phone with the fancy camera and arrived to introduce us via cyberspace. It was love at first click, and my soon-to-be ‘new humans’ boarded a plane and flew to Seattle to meet me in person. Mike will always be special to all of us, and I secretly think of him as my Godfather–or, since we are sea-loving beings, The Codfather.

They came on board and checked me out. The male human, who is rather tall, crawled into the bed–(the V Berth) and stretched out. We fit like a glove. 

Then it got serious. They called Matt Harris!

Hein was my designer, but Matt would be the one to breathe life into the bones of the Sceptre family. Matt Harris is not only one of the most highly respected marine surveyors in the area, but he was also the foreman on the crew that built us and me. 

Yes, you read that right–Matt helped build me when I was born. His successors gently guided me into the water for the very first time–and we all remember our first time.

For me, that was in 1988, when the #1 radio song was Faith by George Michael, and Rain Man was the biggest film. I don’t want to tell you that a dozen eggs was only .89 and a loaf of .60! But it was 2023; the songs and prices had changed, but Matt was with me again.

He arrived on a rainy, drizzly day in January and began his assessment. Since he knew me so well, his inspection was intense. 

He began with my interior, opening cupboards, pulling up floorboards, looking at wires, testing equipment, following moisture with his reader, tapping, exploring, pulling tools and gadgets from his belt, and jotting notes onto a list that became longer and longer. 

My potential new humans arrived at 9:00 a.m.

“So, how’s it going,” the female asked, as all their eyes wandered to the steady plop, plop, plop of raindrops leaking through my hatches.

“Well, there’s some leaks,” he replied. “Wish they would have fixed those.”

The new humans seemed to take it in stride. I was 35 boat years old, after all, and they expected some issues.

But, when Matt told them about two things that had to be replaced immediately, a shudder went down my hull: 

• The water heater was corroded and leaking

And

• There was water in my fuel system. This could be from condensation in the fuel tanks or a leaking seal at the fuel filler, but there was probably funky stuff growing in my fuel tanks, which could lead to clogging and blockages. I was a prime candidate for a heart attack! The repair was big; a hole would have to be cut in the top of my tanks so the tanks could be cleaned. It was non-negotiable, Matt told them, and would be about $1500.00, per tank! I have two tanks; so, that bill would be around $3000.00.

Would my humans have a change of heart? Would they decide I was too much work? Would they continue their search elsewhere, leaving me in ‘the lost and to be found’?

Like King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table, they sat and discussed Mike, Matt, Kurt, and my potential new humans. At last, they made a decision: They decided to move to the next step–a sea trial!

We were going to the ocean.

I will not lie; I was not in my two-stepping prime, but I planned to shock and awe myself out of that lake and give those young whippersnapper boats a run for their money. I was still young at heart, just older in other places. 

Well, that was a wild ride. It wasn’t pretty, and I will tell you more about the entire marine survey next time, but now it is time to sign off! 

Fair Winds and Following Seas 

Your Friends Gypsea Explorer and Her Humans: Heather & Chris!

If you liked this post, check out our Sailboat Survey.

I am One Sexy Sceptre of the Seas Songs!

“She’s A Lady”  Ton Jones

 “Dreamy Lady”  T-Rex

“Proud Mary”  Tina Turner

“Girls Just Want to Have Fun”  Cyndi Lauper

“You Really Got Me” The Kinks

And, if this tickles your propellor, grab 5 Months of Amazon Prime Music Here–FREE!

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