Are modern boats good value?

It’s a long, long time since I posted.  I must be getting mellow in my old age.

What got me thinking this morning, is reading (in the excellent Marine Quarterly) about Eric and Susan Hiscock’s first circumnavigation, in Wanderer III.  The boat cost them £3,300, which seems a risible sum these days.  However, I recalled that in 1952, boats were considered to be extremely expensive – compared with a house for example, the average price of which was £1,891, as I discovered when I did a bit of homework.

In today's prices, the hand-built, ‘one-off’ Wanderer III cost £80,322 – quite a bit of money by anybody’s standards, to be raised without a loan.  However, the Hiscocks had no children and, being the organised sort of people they were, had probably planned all this for a long time and carefully saved for the voyage around the world and the vessel that they needed to do it.  They knew they would be living on board for 3 years and in those days, not only was it a problem taking money out of the country, it would also have been a problem reprovisioning in a lot of places.  Tinned food would have been an expensive luxury in islands like the West Indies and the Pacific Islands. Thus their decision to buy a larger boat than their beloved Wanderer II.

The Second World War was not long over: rationing still existed in Great Britain and there was still a dearth of good materials available for boat building.  However, 60 years on, this great boat is still going strong.  True, Thies Matzen has replaced all the iron floors, knees, etc with bronze, but he writes of her: “Of course, she had to be well built, and she is. Wanderer III is traditionally planked and caulked and is well kept.”  And after nearly 300,000 sea miles, she is still crossing oceans – and not just in the Trade Winds:  Thies and Kicki have spent many years sailing south of 40°.

So how much would a new 30ft boat cost today, I wondered.  Well, apparently if I were to buy a 31ft Benéteau, it would cost me £83,000 ‘on the water’.  I gather that one needs to spend some £24,000 over and above the basic cost of the vessel to equip her for ordinary weekend sailing.  However, that probably includes a heap of electronics that we could do without; on the other hand, I suspect a lot more ‘real’ gear would be required to circumnavigate, so let’s take the £83,000 to be what it would cost – about half the price of an average house in the UK (I checked).  And we are talking about a cheap and cheerful production boat, here, not something designed for crossing oceans.  (I’m not sure if any production boat builders would build a 31ft boat for crossing an ocean, because most people appear to think that 40ft is the minimum one could take offshore. I’m way out of touch with production boats, so had to make do with my Beneteau as an example.)  However, in real terms, this somewhat indifferent cruising boat would cost more than Wanderer III.  It makes you think, doesn’t it?  

But what makes me think even more, is the thought that for all our technological improvements: will our Benéteau 31 still be tramping over the world's oceans in 60 years, having been a floating home to two couples for most of that time, and with only one major refit along the way?  Somehow, I very much doubt it.  There are still a large number of good, honest wooden boats alive and well and going about their business, particularly in Great Britain, where the climate is kind to carvel boats.  However, the modern sailor’s demands for space, comfort and large diesel engines will probably spell their demise long before the little ships themselves are no longer fit for duty.  Every now and then you read about them or see one up for sale: what a reflection they are on the honesty and integrity of their builders.  May they long be loved and cherished.

A strange fetish

Dave Z's comment recalled me to myself.  I have been musing muchly of late, but for reasons best know to my subconscious, have not inflicted such musings on an innocent world.

I've recently encountered one of the stranger boating fetishes on several occasions: this strange insistence that a cruising boat - pardon me, 'expedition vessel' - has to be built of steel.  For strength, you know.  Well, the only time I can think of the strength being of real value is when you run ashore on a solid object, from which you can easily access dry, and inhabited land.  What's the use of having a steel boat that takes longer to crush in the ice than that built from another material?  You still get crushed.  Or being marooned high and dry and largely intact on a reef in the middle of nowhere?  You're still marooned.  Oh, of course, you turn on your 'device' and magic the maritime equivalent of the AA to come and take you home.

But sarcasm apart, and I admit I was being a teensy weensy bit sarky there, why this fetish for steel?  Sure, I know that you can hit solid things a lot harder with a steel boat and get away with a few dents, but isn't the object of the exercise not to hit anything so excessively solid?  How many people do you know who have lost their boats because they weren't built of steel?  How many times have you hit a solid object with something other than your keel?  I've been aground more times than I care to think about, but it's invariably the keel that has taken the major impact.  Now, if you are sailing around in a delightful barge yacht, or traditional Chinese junk, you will ground on something less solid than steel (although the junk, with its watertight compartments, would take a bit of sinking), but on the other hand, with such shallow draught you are less likely to hit anything and if you do, you can step off the boat and set to on your repairs.  And if you are sailing such a quirky boat you probably don't regard it as an 'expedition vessel' (or take yourself ridiculously seriously).  Because, at the end of the day, isn't this what it's all about?  The steel boat, built brutally strong and undoubtedly with rope reels on deck, fore and aft, is a statement.  "Look at me: I'm about to do something really, really heroic."

But a 29ft, wooden yacht sailed the NW Passage last year.  (Yes, I know that's not quite the same as doing it 20 or 30 years ago and they had plenty of support, but it's still not to be sniffed at.) The late-lamented Shrimpy was sailed (somewhat carelessly, it has to be said) on to a reef and was patched up in a couple of days. 

40 or 50 years ago, nearly everyone was sailing wooden or (later) fibreglass boats.  They sailed without radar, GPS, or any other of the aids that nowadays most people require to cross the Irish Sea.  Their charts were limited in number and out of date.  There were no cruising guides.  If they had engines, they were unreliable: no forecasts, rarely tide tables.  But they sailed safely and happily around the world and generally didn't end up stranded on reefs.

So I'll continue to say that my perfect boat will be built largely from wood, thank you very much.  And I'll get rid of that extra draught, so that running aground is less of an issue.  And have something light that bounces rather than being self-destructively heavy.  And all the time that I'm not running aground (or being crushed in the ice) I will be sailing something built out of a material that is pleasant and easy to maintain or alter, and intrinsically beautiful.

So what is the ideal cruising boat?  Well, most of the time we are not under way, so she has to be a comfortable home.  When we are underway, then she has to be seaworthy and reliable.  You want her to look after you, and that is one of the reasons that, when the chips are down, I don't want a multihull.  Then, she has to be inexpensive to run.  Steel is a bit of a problem here.  Wood/epoxy - honestly built - is probably your best.  Ferro-cement has a lot going for it.  A decent carvel-planed wood boat from long-lived woods won't let you down.  Horses for courses.

But now and then you see a design that makes you shout: YES!

Look at this sweet, little ship:

SWAGGIE

by John Welsford

LOA 5.5 m - 18 ft 2 in
Beam 2.4 m - 7 ft 10 in
Draft .8 m - 2 ft 8 in
Sail Area 22.5 sq m - 247 sq ft
Headroom 1.7 m - 5 ft 6 in
Headroom under dome 2 m - 6 ft 6 in
Displacement 1200 kg - 2650 lbs bare ship, rigged
Displacement 1750 kg - 3850 lbs normal full load
Displacement 1900 kg - 4180 lbs maximum safe

A mighty, miniature long range cruiser

Swaggie: (Australian slang) A tramp, or itinerant who carries his bedroll, or “Swag” upon his back.

My client loves small craft and has long had an ambition to cruise a very small cruiser that would be capable of blue water voyaging from his home on the Southern Coast of Australia. For those not familiar with the area that’s roaring 40s territory and there are very long stretches of coast without shelter or refuge. In a storm the best option is to get as far out to sea as possible, close the hatch and get into your bunk but of course few very small cruisers are designed to survive this sort of treatment.

We’d corresponded about ideas for more than a while, and we seemed to have similar ideas if slightly different approaches so I drew a study proposal and sent it off to see what he thought.

Bingo, a cheque arrived by return! Hit the jackpot and rang the bell!  So here is Swaggie!

The basic premise of the boat is that she is sailed from inside. Her Junk rig is the key to this, the sail being able to be hoisted, reefed and sheeted from the main hatch means that a conventional cockpit and sail handling areas are not really required. This is a huge help as at less than 18 ft she is not big enough to have both a useful cockpit and a spacious cabin, seeing as she is a cruiser and needs to be comfortable the cabin is the priority.

Her accommodation is as follows:

Double bunk forward, sorry but the big free standing mast intrudes but the bed is still better than most you will find in a boat this size. There are large lockers underneath the double with room for a substantial battery bank, 25 gals of water and dry storage for extra clothing and stores.

There is sitting headroom over the after end of the double, a small locker port and starboard, a galley bench one side at the after end of the bunk and a general purpose bench on the other with storage under both.

There is a lot of storage in this area, a long voyage with two crew needs a lot of stores and provisions, so I have designed in enough space for lots of water, stores, equipment and spares.

Aft of that, and still under the low part of the cabin are port and starboard armchairs, its important to have some really comfortable places to sit when off watch or just relaxing and these are as good as you will find, handy to the bookshelf and the galley stove, near the on watch person but separate enough to nap in when taking a break from the helm.

Step aft slightly and there is a single bunk down each side, sitting here your eye will be up at window level, with your hand on the inside tiller you have 360 deg vision and a view of the sail through the Polycarbonate “astro” dome in the main hatch. You can sit in here in full control of the vessel and be totally sheltered from sun, wind or rain.
More water tanks and extra storage goes in under those bunks and the armchairs, I’ve allowed for 180 litres of water which is consistent with the boats planned 30 days with 2 persons range.

Cruisers spend a lot of time anchored in company, the boats functioning as floating accommodation while their skippers explore paradise, and such mundane issues as privacy for body functions need to be considered. I have drawn in a portable heads of the type sold for caravan use, stowed in under the after deck it can be drawn forward into the cabin, used and slid back without disrupting the rest of the boats functioning.

Similarly it would be practical to divide the boat across the fore and aft cabin sections with a curtain to allow a sponge bath for a modest crew.

There is also space in the same area for a valise packed inflatable liferaft, compulsory for some countries if the boat is to be sailed beyond territorial waters.

Her deck layout has a large anchor well up at the sharp end in which the main anchor and warp can be stowed, a cabin top organised so that a custom designed 6ft 6in dinghy can be carried on the forward part of the cabin top where it protects the big skylight while at sea, and a flat between the cabin and the transom which is large enough to lie down and stretch out on, or to sit up and steer with the outside emergency and self steering tiller if the weather is clement. For nice weather I would carry one of those little folding beach chairs and fit some cleats to stop it sliding around, real comfort in any sized boat.
She has a permanent pushpit railing aft which not only reduces the chances of man overboard, but trebles as the mainsheet horse and the self steering vane mounting.

I have drawn wide enough side decks to allow access forward and suggest that a secure line be run forward around the mast and back so anyone going on deck can be secured by a safety harness at all times.

The hull form is that which my smaller Houdini design has so well proven, a narrow flat bottom, steep deadrise chine panels and well flared topsides, the fine entry gives a nice easy motion and the cross sectional shape gives a gentle roll with very high ultimate righting moment, both safe and comfortable in a boat that is intended for long voyages where one cannot duck into a sheltered spot when the weather turns foul.

Construction is simple two skin ply over sawn frames and stringers, very easy to build and extremely tough, there is nothing here to bother a keen amateur with reasonable tool skills, Her ballast is 450 kg of lead some 550 mm down below the waterline, and heeled to 90 deg she will lift something like 60 kg with her masthead which is a huge righting moment for a little boat.

Swaggie's plans are detailed for real beginners, very basic woodworking skills, a good attitude and an ability to read is about all a Swaggie builder will need to begin with and the other skills will come as the project progresses. I anticipate a lot of builders will be people who find themselves trapped in a soulless desk job which condemns them to commuting for hours in heavy traffic, living in a thin walled and crowded apartment and dreaming with longing of the freedom of the seas, golden sands and warm breezes.

The space and resources needed for building a Swaggie are not beyond the city dweller, and with determination the dream can become reality. I am really looking forward to reading of the adventures of Swaggie builders who have made the voyage to paradise. It's not so far away!

Now if this little boat doesn't make your knees buckle - at least slightly - then you have no soul.  This is not one or your little big ships - loadsa displacement, but still only a tiny boat.  This one displaces what you need for your water and food, but is not in essence a heavy vessel.  Of course, I have a couple of cavils:

The dome: fine for seriously bad weather, but for anything under F9 or about 10 deg C, fit a Hasler pramhood, details of which can be found in Practical Junk Rig.  There is no better way of keeping a lookout underway, or a perfectly-ventilated cabin in harbour.

Why not build her with a full-width cabin?  She would be even bigger below and, with a junk rig, you only have to go forward to anchor.  Security on deck isn't a big issue.

I shall have more musings on building vs buying.  My opinions are not exactly what they used to be on this vexed issue.