It's 3 p.m., a storm is moving in, and I've been invited to Little Harbor in Ruskin to ride on Wesley Stevenson's Wave Walker. After a short wait on the dock, I spot what appears to be an overgrown Erector-set contraption gliding across the water, prompting the other boaters to stop, stare and, after a moment, shoot Stevenson a thumbs-up.
The Wave Walker hardly looks like a boat at all. But the design — a twin-hulled catamaran engineered to ride the waves more smoothly — may change how recreational boaters view rough water. And if Stevenson's vision pans out, the Wave Walker could also be the newest addition to the Coast Guard's rescue fleet.
But first, Stevenson has to make sure it will float: So far, so good. Now he's going to test his invention on rough water. I'm his first passenger, and to a degree, guinea pig.
The catch is, Stevenson is no engineer. He is not even a professional boater. In fact, he has never built a boat in his life, except for a few of those plastic sailboat models found in hobby shops. Stevenson, 44, is a former dance instructor and founder of the Atlanta-based dance studio, City Lights.
I'm nervous.
But Stevenson has never backed away from a challenge. He's always been a dreamer who bucked the trends … and ended up succeeding.
Stevenson's first dream sprouted in Atlanta when he was 26. While working long hours for little money as a dance instructor in a university gym, Stevenson decided he wanted to open a nightclub attracting people of all social strata with an interest in ballroom dancing. But he refused to follow the lead of other studio owners in Atlanta who charged high prices for private lessons. Instead, he would offer group dance lessons for as low as $8 a session in an alcohol- and tobacco-free venue.
"They all thought I was an idiot," Stevenson says. "Nobody ever did it that way."
The naysayers said he wouldn't last a month. Or six months. Then they doubted he could go a year, three years, five years.
"They shut up after about five [years]," he laughs. "I was the man who brought affordable group dance lessons and social dancing to Atlanta. Before City Lights dance club, it didn't exist. But now, it's the standard."
Stevenson's second dream was to retire, buy a sailboat and move somewhere near the water in Florida.
So three years ago he retired, married one of his students and moved to a house in Ruskin along the Little Manatee River — all in the space of one week. He was 41.
Stevenson's third dream occurred to him one day while sailing.
An avid sailboat enthusiast, Stevenson had toyed with the idea of a more efficient, stable boat for years. After moving to Ruskin, he began to visualize what the perfect boat would look like.
"I've always been in admiration of Polynesian sailors who thousands of years ago crossed the Pacific Ocean regularly on twin-hulled boats," he says. "And I thought we have got to be able to do better these days than they did then."
The problem with the typical pontoon-style boat is that a rough wave will cause it to drag its stern before springing upwards again, an inefficient way of moving through water. Stevenson envisioned a twin-hulled boat with a flexible suspension that would ride the waves, instead of crashing into them, barely affecting passengers on the boat's deck and using a fraction of the energy. It would "walk" on the waves, thus the "Wave Walker" moniker.
"So, instead of pounding through the waves and the energy from a rigid boat being transferred directly to your backside, it is taken up by this suspension system much like you might find on an off-road vehicle," he explains.
Stevenson estimates the boat will run eight to 10 miles per gallon, an audacious boast considering many smaller motorboats only get five to seven mpg.
"The fuel efficiency alone could sell this boat," he says.
Stevenson predicts the boat could have equal appeal both for the Coast Guard and pleasure boaters.
"This boat is designed to go through extreme rough weather," he says, his face turning serious. "As a matter of fact, the original purpose was for a military rescue vehicle to move through surf where you have 8- to 12-foot waves. This boat should be stable enough to withstand that kind of punishment and to do it with ease.
"What that means for the pleasure boat community is it will endure more than you're probably willing to put it through," he continues. "If the waves are that rough, you're probably not going to go out boating anyway, but you could. So, if you find yourself out there, you'll get back."
For the pleasure boaters, Stevenson envisions a 30-foot hull with a customizable deck accommodating buyers who want to be able to choose between an open sport boat, deck boat, speedboat or a closed-in cabin cruiser. If the buyer wants a different style during the life of the boat, he can just switch the decks "like Legos."
Stevenson's confidence is contagious. So much so, it convinced one of his former students to help finance the project.
"It's not just the invention — it's about the inventor," says Randall Taylor, the owner of an Atlanta real estate business.
Taylor's support doesn't surprise Stevenson.
"He saw how I ran City Lights," he says of Taylor. "I can see how he'd want to put his money behind that horse."
Taylor has even come up with a tongue-in-cheek marketing campaign called "good jiggle versus bad jiggle."
"It has something to do with large-breasted girls riding in a boat that is not stable and then riding in our boat," Taylor demurs, a little embarrassed. "It would play good on The Man Show."
Three years and $13,000 after his design epiphany, Stevenson is skimming the waters of Tampa Bay to Ruskin's Little Harbor dock to pick me up. The aluminum "boat" is not even a prototype. It is a "proof of concept" model. It's not passenger-friendly: There are no ladders, no railings and no poles to hold onto, just a lawn chair tied to the wooden deck.
"She's butt ugly but she does the trick," Stevenson says as I hop on.
He guns the two 10-horsepower engines on each hull, spraying salt water into my eyes. The Wave Walker almost floats over the 1- to 2-foot chop and Stevenson, eager to show off, takes to chasing bigger boats' wakes to prove his invention.
"All right, let's catch a wave," he says, darting into some rough chop left by a speedboat. I brace myself, but the deck never moves up or down, only side to side. He hits a few more waves. The boat shimmies again. It seems to dance, more than walk, over the waves.
"I always knew it would work," he says, grinning. "I just didn't know it was going to work at the speed it did."
We chase some more waves, even asking a fellow boater to do "doughnuts," in order to create some 4-footers. Stevenson is happy, but not completely satisfied. Ever since he first came up with the Wave Walker, he has been waiting for the chance to take it out into even rougher waters. He is hoping he gets the chance this summer.
"I have full confidence," he says. "I'm just waiting for the next big hurricane."
Stevenson says an engineer in Washington State has agreed to take over the construction of a prototype — the beginnings of the production process. From there, Stevenson will decide whether he wants to control the boat-building process or outsource it. He likes the idea of control, but he wants to have time to go to the Moroccan boat shows, too. His plans could be afloat before the end of the year, he says.
As we pull back up to the docks, Stevenson face beams with success.
"I'm really excited about it," he says of the boat. "I don't think I've been this excited about anything since I opened City Lights dance club."
He waxes on.
"You're never too old to have a dream … or, in my case, another dream."
This article appears in Aug 9-15, 2006.