I've seen a transPac 52 with a tiller , if you have arms like Popeye .
Ha! Sailing one of them around Lake Ontario would be like driving a Formula 1 car in a mall parking lot, I suspect. It's also hard enough to round up a crew of five every week on the Viking, can't imagine trying to staff one of those...
Viking 34 is a lovely boat , Its great that you go sail with dad. My Dad was a powerboat guy, love the hydroplane races and the Labbatt cup stuff . He liked sailboats ok, but could not get his head around the costs of keeping one competitive . He also didnt drink so sailing ......
It is a very pretty boat, which is definitely his priority. He could easily afford something much larger and newer, but his preferences are simple and old-school. Also had to be built in Ontario, as his brother worked in that industry out of Niagara for many years.
As for sailing with Dad, it's a long a complex relationship. When I was younger, he really wanted me to race with him, but he could also be a bit of a Captain Bligh when racing, lots of red-faced yelling and swearing and literal stamping of feet (he was known for this around the club, it wasn't exclusive to me, to be fair). For teenage me, that was a bit of a fun-killer, so at a certain point I basically told him to get bent and didn't race with him for years and years.
A big part of us moving back to Ontario from BC a few years ago was for me to spend more time with my parents, now well into their seventies. So I decided to let bygones be bygones and accepted his offer to do the weekly club races. Turns out, he's mellowed massively, and now I'm the one who has to bite his tongue when I catch myself barking orders because the grinder on the starboard side screwed up a tack or the foredeck crew is a bit slow about getting the pole on. We all have those moments when we hear ourselves sounding like our parents (especially when dealing with our own kids), but to discover I have a bit of the Captain Bligh myself was a bit of a shock and something I've had to consciously swallow occasionally.
As for drinking and sailing, one story my dad likes to tell of sailing with his dad is how they'd head out to do a lap of the islands with four on board, my dad and his brother (far too young to drink), and my grandfather and one of his buddies. They'd have a full two-four in the cockpit on departure, would return empty, and you could trace their route by connecting the dots between the bobbing stubbies they tossed in their wake. Different times, for sure...