Commission a New Leopard PC53, Then Take Her to Nova Scotia and the Caribbean
We're a married couple taking delivery of a brand-new Leopard PC53 power catamaran — zero hours on the engines — and we're looking for one crewmate to join us after we receive the boat.
Also aboard: two parrots and two cats. The parrots are frighteningly intelligent. The cats are not. Everyone seems happy with this arrangement.
THE PART WE'RE MOST EXCITED ABOUT
Most crew join a boat that's already sorted, and spend a year not really knowing why anything works. You'd get the opposite. You'd be there for commissioning — the stretch where a new boat goes from a shiny empty hull to a home that actually functions offshore.
That means sea trials and the systems handover. Starlink and the watermaker going in. Learning the electrical panel, the plumbing runs, the fuel system and the engine room while it's all still clean and accessible and someone is standing right there explaining it. Labeling every breaker and seacock. Building the spares kit and the ditch bag. Working the punch list, arguing about where the fenders live, and figuring out how to stow provisions for months in a galley you've never used.
It's genuinely fun, and it's the best boat education there is. By the time we leave the dock, you'll know this boat better than most people ever know a boat — because you'll have watched it get built into one.
Then we take her out and find every gremlin she's hiding. That's the shakedown, and it's the other half of the education.
THE ROUTE
Shakedown locally first. Then the Bahamas, if we beat hurricane season. Then north for the summer: the ICW and offshore hops, Charleston, the Chesapeake, New York, Newport, Maine, and on to Nova Scotia. Then back down the coast and across to the Caribbean next fall, once the season closes out.
IT'S A POWER CAT, NOT A SAILBOAT
No sail handling, no 3am reefs. What there is: watchkeeping, navigation and route planning, docking 53 feet of wide beam, fuel and water management, daily engine-room checks, and a maintenance list that never actually ends. We'll teach you all of it. You just have to want to know.
WHAT ELSE YOU'D DO
Help with maintenance and cleaning — normal-tidy, not white-glove; we all do it, us included. Cook a few meals a week; nobody needs plated cuisine, just no crisis at dinnertime. And spend real time with the parrots. That's the au pair part and it isn't a joke — they need attention, out-of-cage time, and someone who genuinely likes them. Screaming and the occasional bite come with the job. The cats require nothing but will sleep on your face regardless.
Camera or social media skills are a bonus, not a requirement — we're documenting the whole build-out and voyage as we go.
WHO WE'RE HOPING FINDS THIS
Someone young, energetic, easy-going and curious, who thinks a day spent tracing wiring diagrams sounds interesting rather than awful. Someone who wants to see Nova Scotia fog and Bahamian sandbars in the same twelve months, and who doesn't sulk when the plan changes for weather — because it will. Someone who really likes animals, not "sure, I like animals."
THE STRAIGHT TALK
This is not a paid position. Recreational crew, not a professional berth. Bunk and shared food covered; flights, insurance and personal spending are yours. This is not a free vacation boat — if you want a short hop, please keep scrolling. Foreign-flagged vessel, so factor that into your visa planning; happy to discuss. Valid passport required. Non-smoker, no exceptions. We're meat eaters and can't run a vegan galley.
Message us. Tell us who you are, what you want out of a year like this, and whether you've ever been screamed at by a parrot before breakfast. We'll do a video call before anyone commits to anything. The birds will be on it. They always are.
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