From the float to the boarding step to the wide side deck, climbing aboard the William Hand was easy. On the other hand, I had to step over a fairly high sill and duck through the height-challenged door to reach the pilothouse. That little bit of effort rewarded me with sights and smells of another era. Just as I remembered from my first visit a year before, the woodwork glowed like the finest U.S. Grade-A Light Amber maple syrup, the chrome-plated instrument bezels scattered spikes of reflected sunlight in every direction, and the six-spoke chrome-plated steering wheel still made me think of Vitruvian Man. The vintage instruments set into a chrome-plated panel on the dashboard were in place when the current owner bought the boat. They may be original, or at least from the correct period. A vintage brass binnacle, housing a rebuilt compass from the 1930s, sits forward of the dashboard, and its height, I discovered later, let me "see" the heading while I scanned the water in front of the bow. A taller helmsman may not be able to do this, because the compass probably would be out of his peripheral vision.