
It sounds idyllic, right? You’re going to go overnight on a mini yacht (my words, not theirs) and gallivant around Florida’s Sarasota Bay on a beautiful summer day. That’s how I sold it to my wife, at least. See, if you’re not familiar with a pocket cruiser, it generally means a cabin boat under 30 feet length overall designed for boating in favorable, nearshore conditions. Many pocket cruisers prove small enough to trailer as well, which is a huge benefit for those of us who like to consistently see new ports of call. Now, for all you seasoned cruisers out there, you can probably already see where this story gets interesting. At 26 feet, 5 inches with just over a 9-foot beam, the Beneteau Antares 8 is on the small side for overnighting. This is why I led with the “mini yacht” yarn when I was selling this adventure to my wife. I needed someone to photograph for the story, and I needed her to say yes without overthinking it. So, after she overthought it for quite some time, she acquiesced, and we were off to Sarasota Bay.
When we first walked onto the docks, we had trouble spotting the Antares 8—until we realized it was tucked behind an Antares 11. Ten feet longer, the Antares 11 looks like a completely different class of boat. After dragging my wife away from that one, we boarded the Antares 8 and were immediately impressed.
The term “pocket cruiser” is an old one, referring to a cruiser small enough to fit in a vest pocket. Twenty years ago, pocket cruisers were a mainstay of boating, with plenty of boatbuilders providing trailerable cruising boats to a willing populace. Then, they fell out of favor. Now, Beneteau aims to bring back pocket cruisers with the Antares 8. We set out to learn how and why.

In the Pocket
My wife and I personally own a classic Mako of about the same length as the Antares 8, and we had been wracking our brains over how Beneteau would fit cruising amenities on the same footprint. The answer, of course, is a very deliberate layout.
The pilothouse-style design balances the deck space in thirds, with equal attention given to each. The aft third is all about angling; the Antares 8 we weekended aboard came equipped with the fishing package. Multiple rod holders, tackle stowage, and plenty of casting room allow this pocket cruiser to actually fish. The middle third is all about the pilothouse, with a fully enclosed salon complete with air conditioning (more on that later), below-deck sleeping quarters, a convertible seating/dining area, fridge and even a cooktop. I was amazed that Beneteau was able to pack so much into this size boat. The forward quarter is for the sundeck, bow rails, and anchor locker with a windlass.

After we settled in, I started to explore the helm. Some of the higher-end features on the Antares were blowing my mind. A bow thruster? Now I really did feel like I was on a mini yacht. With a single engine on a 26-plus-foot cabin boat, things can get a little hairy when you’ve got a tight docking situation, especially when you throw in a current and some wind. The Antares 8 proved an easy boat to handle dockside, though, especially with the thruster as an extra tool to use if needed.
Wanting to see how the Antares 8 handled sporty conditions, we made our way to the mouth of the inlet. It was a fairly windy day with a consistent west wind, so there was plenty of fetch to create some small waves to play around in. It’s not a dedicated offshore boat, yet the Beneteau handled the conditions admirably. And the best part was, my wife and I stayed completely dry while we gawked at the high-dollar homes along the mouth of the inlet.

Anchors Aweigh
While it was fun to test this new boat’s mettle, it wasn’t part of the assignment, so my personal indulgence had to come to an end. Besides being off mission, we were feeling hot. This wasn’t a 60-foot yacht with an oversize AC and a generator. This boat’s battery-powered AC struggled against midday summer heat. And with two small cabin windows, the AC was still the better option than the breeze. It was time to beat the heat the old-fashioned way: by beelining it to the nearest sandbar. Can’t do that in a 60-footer.
Not being used to the conveniences of a modern boat, I sent my wife up to the bow when we reached the sandbar. I assumed that at the very least she would be letting down the anchor from the remote at the locker while I backed down to set the anchor. Instead, I realized that the anchor windlass was entirely controllable from the helm, something that blew my classic-boat mind and made singlehanding the Antares 8 an absolute dream. I could drop the anchor and back down on it right from the helm. This was living!

When we were set, my wife hit the mini fridge for a libation as we settled into a bluebird Florida sandbar afternoon. We met some very nice Kentuckians who came ripping in on a Freedom Boat Club pontoon and were discussing having some more “Cuban Sushi” that night.
“Cuban Sushi?” the wife asked.
“Yes,” the husband answered, “the stuff with the fish and the peppers and all that.”
“Oh, you mean ceviche! We can get some more of that,” the wife said.
True story. And forevermore in our household, “ceviche” and “Cuban Sushi” will be interchangeable terms. Funny how quickly life changes like that.
Shortly after, another boat showed up with the most aquatic Labrador I had ever seen. It was just deep enough that the dog couldn’t stand, so it swam from person to person, patrolling the area.

Dine and Doze
After a thoroughly enjoyable afternoon full of socializing, snorkeling and soaking in the Gulf waters, we said our goodbyes, I weighed anchor (from the helm, what luxury!), and we were on our way. We had a dinner date at an on-water restaurant in the bay. But first, a quick cleating lesson was in order.

Growing up a farmer’s daughter in South Georgia, my wife doesn’t have as much experience boating as I do. When we take our Mako to the Bahamas, we always have a crew full of friends who are seasoned boaters, so the guys are always the dock crew. In this case, we were a crew of two, so I needed my wife to learn to cleat off lines in a hurry. I taught her “the right way” as I had been taught from one of my sailing uncles, and we soon found ourselves the sole vessel in front of a fully occupied on-water restaurant with a strong current running and a crosswind. It was a high-pressure situation for my wife. She’s wound tight as it is, so the restaurant gawkers didn’t make things any easier for us. Luckily, I had my secret weapon: the bow thruster. We threw out our fenders, doubled back to go in nose first, then let the current nestle us in perfectly on the port side. My wife tied off a couple of perfect cleats, and we were strolling down the docks to dinner, cool as cucumbers. The gawkers were desperately disappointed not to see a Qualified Captain moment.
Read Next: Beneteau Antares 11

Fortunately, the restaurant manager sat us at a table right in front of the Antares 8. Perfect for capturing some golden-hour views of the boat and relaxing with a coastal dinner. When we were just about finished, I went to the boat and turned on the air conditioning, which bothered absolutely no one because it doesn’t make any sound. By the time we were wrapping up dinner, the sun was low and the temperature was comfortable inside the cabin, with the AC humming along on enough battery power to get us back to port.
We hooked back up to shore power at the dock, grabbed a shower at the hotel marina, and settled in for the night. How was the sleep? I’ll say this. You can’t expect your best night’s sleep on a pocket cruiser, but you also can’t expect any of the adventure of overnighting on a small boat without a little discomfort. We would do it again in a heartbeat, especially to the Bahamas, where the Antares 8’s shallow draft would allow for endless exploration of secluded coves and beaches. That would give us the opportunity to kick back, drop a line, reel in a big one, and make some fresh Cuban Sushi right on deck.

Essentials for Overnighting on a Small Boat
If you’re expecting a stately king-size bed or a stand-up shower from a pocket cruiser, you’re going to be disappointed. It’s essential to recognize a boat’s strengths and weaknesses so that you can set your expectations.
For example, consider bringing an air mattress. The “bed” that you’re going to be sleeping on is just a converted cushion, and “high-density marine-grade foam” is a far cry from a mattress and box spring. Recognizing that it might not be your best night’s sleep, bring all the essentials to make coffee in the morning. My wife brought her French press and made home-quality coffee on the Antares 8’s small cooktop. You’re also going to want to bring toiletries because smaller boats tend to have freshwater washdowns rather than enclosed showers. Bring linens or a sleeping bag, and an overstuffed pillow to accommodate the lack of give in the cushions if you’re going sans blowup mattress, and be prepared for the AC to freeze you out when it catches up.

We dined at on-water restaurants, but you’ll want to pack light prepared meals if your destination is more remote, which I think it should be. This boat’s real strength is in its ability to get into tight anchorages and get you off the grid in search of some adventure, so bringing a few essentials and finding some secluded mooring buoy to overnight should be on the to-do list of any Beneteau Antares 8 owner.