Three hundred people will share the same yacht, and none of them will own it alone. Maybach Ocean Club is a private members club built around a single ship, Beyond Horizons, a 155-meter vessel that runs 508 feet from bow to stern.
Each member gets four weeks a year.
That’s 28 days in one of 30 suites, on a ship that follows the sun between the Mediterranean and the Caribbean while the club carries the crew costs, the upkeep, and the fuel bills that usually land on one owner’s books.
It’s a country club that moves. Summer puts it off Portofino; winter moves it to the Caribbean. The membership stays fixed at 300. The address changes with the season, and the members fly to wherever the ship already is for their weeks.
A members club with a ship at its center
Membership starts with an initial fee, then annual dues on top, year after year.
The club doesn’t publish the entry figure. There’s no number to quote here, because the club itself hasn’t set one in public, and the rumored figures in the launch coverage aren’t numbers the club has confirmed anywhere.
What the dues buy is stated plainly enough: the yacht’s operation, its crew, its maintenance, and its service.
Membership runs for the long term, too. It can pass to the next generation or transfer to a new member, subject to the club’s terms and approval, so a place inside the 300 isn’t locked to one person’s lifetime.
The first 50 to join formed the Founding Member circle, a tier that closed before the end of October with preferential pricing and priority access to the most wanted weeks on the calendar.
Thirty suites, all cut to the same measure
Design comes first aboard this ship, ahead of the itinerary and the social calendar, because the rooms are the product being sold. Mercedes-Benz Design shaped the vessel with the club, and Heller Studios handled the interiors.
Every suite runs about 800 square feet, each with a private outdoor deck.
The rooms are styled as a reflection of the coastline passing outside the glass, with continuous ocean views treated as part of the floor plan. Thirty suites at that size set the ship’s social scale: the yard’s plan puts 72 guests aboard at a time, plus six guest cabins.
Those rooms lean social.
A beach club wraps around an infinity pool, and the lounges, media rooms, and gym sit inside the same deck plan instead of being scattered as afterthoughts.
Summers in the Mediterranean, winters in the Caribbean
The route follows the weather. Summer belongs to the Mediterranean, with Portofino and Porto Cervo named on the itinerary, and winter belongs to the Caribbean, where St Barth and St Lucia anchor the colder months.
The calendar fills around the ports: Cannes during its film festival, the Monaco Grand Prix, dinner ashore in Capri.
Jet skis come out in clear water between stops. Members step aboard where the ship already is and step off weeks later without a winter berth to arrange or a refit to supervise, and that absence of chores is a large part of what the dues buy.
A three-star kitchen and a Swiss wellness house
Dining runs through Alain Roux and The Waterside Inn, the three Michelin-starred restaurant in Bray, England. Roux’s kitchen sets the table aboard, and each new port changes the ingredients on it.
Wellness belongs to Chenot.
The Swiss group has run preventive health programs for more than five decades. It will operate the fitness, spa, and wellness spaces aboard, built on the Chenot Method and staffed by its own people.
The program mixes the active with the quiet: functional strength work, mobility, and Pilates beside recovery treatments, nutrition planning, and longevity assessments, with members joining as deeply as they choose on any given day.
Progress carries between stays. A member’s program at a Chenot property ashore connects with the one aboard, so the second stay starts where the first one ended instead of starting over.
A second ship carries the toys
Beyond Horizons won’t travel alone. A dedicated support vessel sails with her on every voyage, carrying the jet skis, the water toys, the tenders, and a helicopter.
Keeping the gear on a second hull frees the main ship’s decks.
It also puts members ashore, or into the water, without turning the mother ship into a storage yard.
Maybach’s own history helps the idea land. The house powered boats back in the 1920s. A century later it put its name on this club, and the car side of the badge still shows in the ship’s design language.
The ship is still a plan on paper
None of this floats yet.
Lloyd Werft Bremerhaven is the selected yard, chosen under a preliminary agreement signed in June 2026, and the final build contract is scheduled to close by the end of 2026. No keel has been laid. The renders and suite plans are the product right now, sold against a ship that exists as a program, a yard slot, and a set of polished images.
Delivery and the maiden voyage are targeted for 2029, on paper. Treat that year as a target, not a date.
Big yards slip. Final contracts move. This one’s contract isn’t signed yet, and the yard announcements around the project have already pointed at a winter 2029/30 commissioning window, which is a softer promise than a maiden voyage in a named month.
That gap is the trade at the center of the club. Join now, and the entry fee buys a founding place in a 300-person circle, priority on the calendar, and a voice in how the club takes shape.
Wait, and the ship either proves itself on the water or it doesn’t. The decision gets easier either way.
On land, Maybach sells a car that one buyer takes home. At sea, it’s selling the same badge as a shared calendar, 28 days at a time, to 300 people who will never all meet aboard at once. The yacht is the clubhouse. It just crosses an ocean to reach the next port.
