Solace
Luxury yacht moments
A vessel designed around luxury living
Solace puts a question back at the centre of the yachting industry: does luxury actually need scale? We didn't think so. At 25 metres, Solace is compact by the standards of the category it sits in, and that's the point, not a limitation. We wanted to design conscious, aspirational living not defined by size, but by the quality of the experience. The governing idea is simple to state and hard to execute: design through moments, not rooms. A yacht conceived as a sequence of rooms asks you to move between fixed functions. A yacht conceived as a sequence of moments asks something better of you. It asks you to simply be somewhere, and feel it.
Feeling Present
Solace starts with living, not styling, because the most enduring spaces are shaped by the lives they support, with beauty emerging as a natural consequence. Stand back far enough and life on board becomes a continuous rhythm: moments of connection, moments of solitude, moments when the landscape simply asks to be noticed. The boundaries between them are never fixed. A yacht is in constant dialogue with its surroundings, the water shifts, the light evolves, the horizon is always changing, so the spaces must respond in kind. They should unfold effortlessly into one another, offer a meaningful perspective at every turn, and quietly anticipate how someone wants to feel before they've thought to ask for it.
Timing moments
The first impression is openness, with no obvious doors, no walls announcing where one room ends and another begins. That's deliberate: the less a space explains itself, the more room it leaves for discovery. As you move through the boat, that discovery is staged, not accidental, with every transition curated to build a sense of unfolding, joyful living. Get close, and the discovery changes register: it becomes material. Every surface, texture and finish is where the craft actually lives. Every transition, every sightline, every point of interaction has been resolved with the same question in mind, does this make someone feel more present than they were a moment ago? Social spaces are built to hold connection and celebration, anchored by a large open deck that asks nothing of you except what you bring to it. Elsewhere, secluded retreats give calm and privacy without ever fully closing the view, you're alone, but never cut off from the water. And the vantage points are elevated deliberately, doing double duty: framing the landscape for the people on board, and giving clear sightlines for the people navigating it.
