“There is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” Absolutely. Gunkholing among the reed-fringed backwaters of the River Thames, Ratty and his meek mate Mole in The Wind in the Willows might have entertained some conceptual difficulties faced with the Absolute 70 Fly, but they would soon have come to appreciate its essential pointlessness. “Nothing seems really to matter, that’s the charm of it,” as the rodent said.
In getting so eloquently to the nub of the issue, author Kenneth Grahame revealed a deep and not entirely ironic understanding of boating, in which by simply stepping aboard you are transporting yourself into the moment. A therapist would call it mindfulness, and charge you $500. With a boat, it’s on the house.
With this new 70-footer it kind of is the house, too. Such is the light and space and general domesticity—of a very high-end kind—offered by this supremely comfortable machine. Absolute already had a 70-foot Navetta in its line-up before launching the new 70 Fly at the latest Cannes boat show, and the shipyard says the new model “is aimed at those seeking a sportier and more dynamic design, with high performance and a modern aesthetic”. It certainly has a sportier hull form, narrower in the beam, with a conventional medium-V forefoot and shorter waterline, and on the same horsepower it’s a knot or so faster than the Navetta, at 28.5 knots.
The first thing you notice upon going aboard is all the full-height glass in the deck saloon, with big sliding doors along the port side for practically alfresco dinner—or breakfast—experiences. It’s as good as a balcony without the bother. With the galley set opposite the dining table, and a big U-shaped sofa forward, the main deck doesn’t feel particularly spacious —this perhaps being the only place where you might miss the Navetta model’s wider beam—but it’s undeniably comfortable, and the views are stupendous. The helm station sits in partial seclusion up one step and behind a slatted bulkhead, with its own sociable little bench seat.
The lower deck companionway leads down from here, stopping first at the master suite, an imposing space with a step-free sole and a spacious head and shower compartment forward. Placing the forward cabin on its own raised deck is something of an Absolute trademark. It creates a void space beneath as a useful services and stowage area, accessed on the 70 Fly via the central corridor. It’s a brilliant concept which deserves to be much more widely imitated.
For space and luxurious appointments, there is little to choose between the master and the carpeted expanses of the midships VIP suite, and between these two palatial hideaways there is a guest twin on the starboard side, with sliding berths and en suite access to the day head, and another smaller twin-berth across the corridor. Rational, right-angled layouts, large hull windows and space-saving, rattle-free sliding doors—another praiseworthy Absolute trademark bafflingly under-plagiarized by rival yards—augment the sense of space down below. Headroom throughout is 6-feet, four inches except in the master, where it is marginally more.
Up on deck, the flybridge might be smaller than the Navetta’s but it’s still a terrific place to be, while with its low-level lighting and reversible backrests the foredeck seating, too, is far from an afterthought. In the cockpit we find not only the obligatory glass aft balustrade but also see-through bulwarks and an optional bar, along with lightweight, free-standing furniture which can easily be arranged as you wish.
With its internal volume and external real estate, and all that gleaming glass and drop-dead design, Absolute’s new 70 Fly doesn’t actually feel pointless at all. It’s comfortable. It’s fun to be aboard. It seems pretty confident that it knows what it’s for. But don’t be taken in: it’s still just a boat, and therefore gloriously, marvelously unnecessary.
This article originally appeared in the March 2026 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.
