Fridge) refrigerator-freezer combos from Vestfrost of
Scandinavia. Although they are separate units, they are
placed tightly side by side and look like a single. The
freezers have a feature that works well when the
Holzemers anchor: A switch kicks the freezer
compressors into nonstop work while the boat is
cruising, pulling the interior temperature far below
opens onto the deck-level cockpit, which is more like a
big, semicircular back porch.
The Holzemers chose Australian walnut with a clear
finish for woodwork throughout the boat. It contrasts
nicely with the lighter colored upholstery and carpeting.
Big, comfortable home-size couches are to port in the
saloon, along with a similarly sized dining table. Almost
Left: The solitary helm chair offers excellent visibility forward and to the side. The curved shape of the pilothouse reflects the
workboat character that influenced the design. Right: John Holzemer, a retired airline pilot, flies helicopters for a hobby and, with
his wife, Teddi, managed construction of Teddi Bear. They are now full-time liveaboard cruisers.
zero. Because they are well insulated, the freezers
hold the low temperature, and the compressor seldom
switches on while they are at anchor, reducing the
load on the house batteries and the need to run one
of the boat’s two 7.6k W generators.
Although offered as marine equipment, the ConServ
units have no cruising locks. Instead, John uses Velcro
straps looped through the handles to keep the doors
closed in rolling seas.
Not only does the galley look and function like one
at home, it also is the center of activity when a crowd
is aboard, just like at home. “Everyone ends up in the
galley,” Teddi said.
Cork flooring finished to resemble tile is used in the
galley, pilothouse, and other high-traffic areas. There’s
carpet in the saloon (really, it’s a living room and
dining area with full-size, home-style furnishings and
a propane fireplace) and in the master stateroom. The
living area is down two wide steps from the galley;
walls of glass offer a panoramic view of the sea. It
invisible are drop-down panels in the overhead that open
for access to electrical wiring.
A stairway leads from the galley up to the pilothouse,
a head with a jetted tub, and the guest stateroom/office,
where I spent a night. Not only is it a comfortable room
with a full view of the outside world, it also opens onto
an upper-level semicircular deck (another back porch).
What a tempting place, I thought, for a deck chair, a
good book, and a favorite beverage. But this was a
working cruise. No time to relax. The stairways were
planned well, with consistent rise and run like those in
homes. They are wider than stairs found on most boats
and, best of all, none curves. They have handrails, too.
(Some of the living spaces lack overhead grabrails. They
would be welcome on a rough passage.)
The pilothouse is rounded across the front and
reminded me of the curving, multiwindowed deckhouses often found on tugs, fishing boats, and old
ferries. Appropriately, for a boat cruising in the Pacific
Northwest, it is Bunyanesque.
