Demonstration imagery
Forty-eight residences stand thirty-eight metres above the water. The bay lies east, so the day arrives over the water and leaves over the ridge, and the building sits between the two like a sundial.
This is not a tower on a beach road. The headland rises thirty-eight metres before the building begins, which is high enough that the bay reads as a surface rather than a wall, and low enough that you can still hear it with a window open.
Forty-eight residences share the ground. The largest plan runs to 217.40 sqm, and that figure is measured, not rounded: where a number appears on these pages, someone stood in the room with the instrument that produced it.
Ninety seconds by the water. We did not estimate that: we walked it, lobby door to first plank, with a stopwatch running, and 90 seconds is what the watch said. No shortcut, no brisk pace, ordinary shoes.
It matters because a pier you can reach in ninety seconds is part of the residence, and a pier you reach by car is a destination. The morning boats, the evening rail, the walk back up with wet hair: all of it happens inside a minute and a half.
Demonstration imagery
Demonstration imagery
Harbor Station is 6 min from the door. Near enough that the city is an errand; far enough that the errand ends. The headland does not pretend to be remote, and it does not pretend to be central. It is six minutes from the platform, and that is the whole claim.
Every view on this site is named for what it is, because a view is the one thing a floor plan cannot show and a sentence can misrepresent. So here is the ground truth we write every page against:
And because a sentence is still only a sentence: every residence is filmed in 4K from its own windows before you visit. The view you see on film is the view you stand in.
Viewings run Saturday and Sunday, 09:20 to 17:40. Because every residence is filmed in 4K before you visit, the first decision can happen at home, and the visit can be spent standing in the two or three that earned it.