SeaFair has little soul despite buzz

'Highest echelon of style and innovation' leaves ordinary folk wanting caviar, jewelry, literature

Melissa Haneline
The Post and Courier

The mega-yacht SeaFair has attracted its share of attention since arriving in Charleston earlier this week.

Melissa Haneline
The Post and Courier

Paintings from Kent Sullivan Art Studios in Orlando, Fla., hang in one of 28 bays aboard the SeaFair.

"The rich are different from you and me." — F. Scott Fitzgerald

A whole lot of buzz has surrounded the eye-catching private yacht SeaFair docked at the Charleston City Marina since earlier this week.

The sleek $40 million, five-story mega-boat actually resembles a fine piece of sculpture rather than a seafaring vessel.

But it is a vessel with little soul for the ordinary folk.

As a reporter who covers the visual arts, I decided to accept an invitation to have a look at what yacht co-owner David Lester described in a Post and Courier article as "exhibitions that normally exist only in larger cities."

The well-designed invitation featured color pictures of jewelry and sculpture and paintings and promised that visitors would "meet purveyors and consumers and discover the latest trends of the flourishing luxury market."

When my husband and I arrived at the SeaFair, instead of receiving a friendly greeting, a woman immediately informed us, in icy tones, that we had to show a picture I.D. and fill out an extensive form giving all our phone numbers; addresses, e-mail and otherwise; and Web sites.

"Now, step back so that I can get your picture," said another young woman, who appeared to belong in an airport inspection line.

When so ordered, the well-heeled couple behind us turned on their heels and left.

We should have done the same, but my curiosity got the best of me and we soldiered through two glass doors into the entry way, where we were met by a dissatisfied-looking couple leaving.

We stood there alone in the hallway of the 228-foot vessel. No one directed us to the "Luxe Lounge" for "champagne and hors d'oeuvres," as the invitation said, or the "caviar" that was listed in the news article, which also quoted Lester as saying, "We just want people to come on board and be amazed."

Finally, as a nattily dressed gentleman sauntered by with an empty glass, I asked him the whereabouts of the champagne bar; he pointed us in the right direction.

At the glittering, high-tech bar, there were exactly two hors d'oeuvres: spinach pop-overs (which were good) and deep-fried artichoke balls, which my husband said tasted like fried peppers. No caviar was in sight.

"What's upstairs?" I asked the bartender. "I'm not sure," he said. "I'm from New York."

On the second floor we discovered some intriguing paintings of multiple styles and genres, but not by any names I recognized.

Unlike most first-class galleries and museums, this "luxury floating gallery" had no literature available describing the works of art.

A rococo gold-looking sculpture about 3-feet tall cost $80,000, as did the marble table under it. A typed note taped to the objects said they were from France.

The most impressive display was of framed photographs of covers of "Florida Magazine" but, again, there was no one around to ask. We had the gallery to ourselves.

Next we went upstairs, where, according to gallery literature, "guests will be able to dine at the Sapore Restaurant."

We entered a sumptuous glass and silver restaurant, which had a maitre d' stand holding a menu.

Even if we could have afforded the expensive fare, there was no way we could have dined there because there was no one in the place.

On the top deck, the view was breathtaking, and we met two young women who said they couldn't find any of the jewelry or fashions listed on the invitation.

I, too, wondered how we were to "meet the purveyors and consumers and luxury insiders" also promised as we "entered the highest echelon of style and innovation."

As we left SeaFair, the icy woman in the entry way grabbed at my champagne glass to make sure I didn't pop it in my purse.

Since it was pouring rain, I asked the person guarding the door if a covered cart, like the ones I had seen zooming around the ramps earlier, might take us as far as the parking lot.

No one knew about the carts, and no one thanked us for coming.

Reached by phone on Friday, Lee Ann Lester, co-owner of SeaFair and wife of David Lester, apologized that there was no one to greet us or direct us to various venues on her yacht.

"We have quite a large staff, so I don't know where they were, maybe occupied on another area of the boat." she said, adding that only half the SeaFair was open to the public. "We had 10 dealers aboard, so I don't know why they weren't at their booths."

Lee Ann Lester said she heard they had a big crowd Thursday night.

She also said photos of guests had to be made because of Homeland Security rules, since the SeaFair is classified as a certified passenger ship.

The SeaFair co-owner said she didn't know why the Sapore restaurant was said to be open for dining because "this was simply not true."

"Remember," she said, "this is not a selling tour, but one where dealers can preview the yacht and then decide if they would like to have their inventory on exhibit here or to have a dinner or reception for possible clients in the future."

She said several dealers from Savannah and Hilton Head have signed up to show their inventories on the SeaFair.

She added, "One purpose of the SeaFair is to bring in dealers from other countries. It's like a high-end arts fair."

Looks like Fitzgerald was right.