I grew up in a New England seaside town, my father an avid skipper aboard our 36-foot Allmand cruiser, Starlight. Many summers were spent inside the musty galley of this vessel. Half-used bottles of WD-40; salt-cured fishing tackle; dusty curtains older than the boat itself -- these were the practical objects which decorated my father's home-away on the sea.
When I saw that Madhat had put out an ocean-inspired fragrance entitled "Skiff" -- the familiar marine term for a small, typically-rowed angular boat (think "The Old Man and the Sea") -- I had a feeling this might be for me. It turns out Skiff was a fulfilling blind buy, both from a fragrance appreciation standpoint and an emotional one.
There's an almost varnish-like quality akin to the astringent woody signature of a Slumberhouse, but much smoother and at home in this interpretation of an early-morning row on the water; the boat's wooden core coated with this season's layer of paint. A sharp melony note - what I believe to be Alcohol C-6 Hexanol or something similar - provides a nice contrast to the other, mostly mellow, materials.
Darker, berry-like fruit is also found, though this note goes through more of an evolution over time.
There's an underlying sweetness which isn't easily placed. My guess is immortelle or fenugreek for their maple-like quality. At first, this feels a little strange in tone with the rest of the notes, but taken in concert with them, the sweetness builds out a musty quality which really does remind me of the inner galley of our old boat (mind you, it was larger than a skiff).
My boating experience was exclusively in the New England North Atlantic, but Madhat's website places this fragrance just offshore of Havana. I was puzzled by this for the first hour or two, but now find the more this dries down, the more I agree with geographical placement: overripe melons and berries begin to ferment in the progressive heat of a subtropical morning; Cuban cigars balanced on the gunwale trim -- unsmoked and naturally sweet -- begin to wilt and unfurl their strands of tobacco. But mostly, the scent floats into a slightly-salty, slightly-musky synergy of ambergris and seaworn wood.
After my father's passing a few years ago, my mother and I decided to sell Starlight. She had been on stilts for more than a couple seasons; required far too much work; had antiquated controls often difficult for even my long-time Skipper of a father to work with; and ultimately became a financial liability. For a time after my father's passing, I viewed my time on board the Starlight as something I took for granted in the ignorance of my youth; an outlook shaded by my recent grief. On the day the movers came, I stood aboard it one last time, coming to terms with yet another loss, but climbed off feeling a sense of relief and acceptance that someone else now had the opportunity to forge memories in this craft that housed so many of mine.
In short, "Skiff"'s salty, musty elements bring me right back to the best of my youth, and I'm incredibly grateful for that. On its own, Skiff is a mellow, enjoyable wear that even someone in a landlocked state may appreciate.
Shot in the dark here, but if you enjoy Dodo by Zoologist, do consider Skiff!