Growing up, we had many boating friends, but we were closest to the McGraths. Born on the water and grown through adventures (and misadventures), our friendship transcended boating; they were the only other family with whom we would regularly share meals year-round and the only family we traveled with outside of boating—including a memorable trip to Ireland, no doubt conceived after a few too many pints of Guinness.
We don’t see each other as often as we used to; life, work, and obligations have a way of impeding on even the closest of friendships. But when we are together, we easily pick up conversations and stories where we left off, especially stories about John McGrath Sr., who passed away too soon.
While all of the siblings in the second generation of our families share a love for the water and fond memories of boating, it’s John Jr. and me who were lucky enough to stay entrenched in the pastime with boats of our own. At weddings, funerals, and family parties alike, we always talk about getting all four of our kids together on the water. How fun would it be to pass the torch to the next generation?
After six-plus years of good intentions, we finally made it happen when John, his wife Sarah—herself a former boat kid—and their kids JT and Kyleigh pulled into our home marina of Essex Island. I had high hopes for the ensuing few days but didn’t want to put too much pressure on the long weekend; nothing turns a kid’s nose up like parents trying to force their children to have fun together.
Luckily for all of us, there must have been something in the water—or in their DNA—because Connor, JT, and Kyleigh hit it off almost immediately. Our icebreaker was the time-honored Essex tradition of catfishing with a top-secret ingredient (I’m pretty sure a catfish would swallow a roll of pennies if offered). After catching a couple of ugly, croaking catfish and sharing big, celebratory high-fives, we were all pretty juiced up. Then there was coloring and a movie in the air-conditioned salon of the McGraths’ boat.
Catching up in the lower galley/dinette area with Sarah and John, I popped my head up into the salon to see Connor resting his head on Kyleigh’s shoulder as the sun-drained trio vegged out to the magic of Minions. I snuck my iPhone around the corner to capture the impromptu moment. If the goal was to kindle a new generation of friendships, this was one of those mission-accomplished moments.
The next morning, the first words out of Connor’s mouth were: “When am I going to see my friends again?” He wouldn’t have to wait long. We spent hours the next day splashing around the pool, trying our hand again at catching the “big daddy catfish,” and sharing another meal together. By the time the check came, we’d properly caught up on life and played far too much “I spy.” Kyleigh happily held Caleb while Connor and JT had each other laughing deliriously during staring competitions. Old friendships solidified. New ones formed.
Driving home, my thoughts turned to John Sr. and how much he would have enjoyed seeing our kids playing together and enjoying his chosen pastime. I can imagine him smiling, raising a glass, and finding the perfect words to commemorate such a great weekend. I guess that’s what leaving a legacy is all about.
Who knows, perhaps one day our kids will get together on their boats, tell stories of happy childhoods on the water, and pass our pastime on to their kids. It’s a long way off, but we’re off to a promising start.
This article originally appeared in the October 2025 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.
