PALM BEACH 50 FLY
The Uber driver is sure we’re in the right place but I’m not convinced. The address given to me by Palm Beach’s MD Hank Compton has brought us to a location beneath an underpass and alongside some restaurant bins near Pompano Beach in South Florida. The driver has already taken off with his five stars before I can protest but the presence of the Intracoastal Waterway down the alleyway past said bins offers a crumb of comfort that this indeed might be where I’m meeting the boat. I wheel my suitcase to the edge of the water and wait, eyes glued to my phone in attempt to trick on-lookers that I am perfectly relaxed and in control of my destiny. Thankfully, the emergence of an elegant bow in my peripheral vision saves blushes as the 50 Fly glides into view.
It is a sight for sore eyes; elegant, purposeful and oozing charm from every angle, the Palm Beach 50 transports you to a time where boats of this ilk were used to whisk Wall Street big wigs from their estates in upstate New York to the office blocks of Manhattan Island. Today we plan
