More open water lessons

A 47' monohull, in this case a Kaufman 47, really is more sea-kindly than a 35' Pearson. (And now I know what "sea-kindly means.) Two crossings of a lumpy Gulf Stream were a good lesson in LWL and displacement. But a monohull is still a monohull, it still rolls and yaws and tosses coffee cups around. I read often of those who insist that wisdom lies in buying the smallest boat you think you can stand, not the biggest boat you think you can afford. For me wisdom will lie in buying the smallest boat I think I can stand, as long as it is as close to 50 foot as I can manage to pay for. If circumstances have us leaving in a smaller boat, (it is better short than on shore) I will be very, very conservative about the kind of weather I'll tackle. And I will expect a lot of sleepless nights spent rolling at anchor.

Finding the way into anchorages and ports will take a little practice. Even when closing in on Port Everglades with lots of boats to follow, I would have been hard pressed to locate the entrance without a GPS. Sailing into Hauffman Cay in the Berry Islands, I could see no indication there was an entrance of any kind until we had nearly reached the inlet. By then there were some pretty "interesting" rocks lurking nearby. I'm sure it will get easier with practice, but the first few times I expect to feel a bit exposed. Day time for sure, good or at least passable weather, and have enough stores on board to heave-to several miles away and wait, a couple of days if necessary, for conditions to be acceptable. Entering a harbor really does look like it can be the most hazardous part of the journey.

I expected to be pretty immune to seasickness. A life long pilot and one time acro instructor, my inner ear has had lots of unusual motion training. I have never had a problem on Nomad. No matter. On both open water trips I spent at least a couple of hours blowing chunks. From now on...no drinking and use the patch. I don't know if that will eliminate my "rail time," but it can't hurt.

There is a lot to learn about the rigging and sail controls of any boat. Quetzal had a whisker pole that made a huge difference when sailing downwind, but setting it was a bit complex and it was heavy enough to do some damage if one didn't pay attention. Practice...practice.

Open water lessons

Though a lot of people are doing it, a 35' or shorter mono hull would not be my choice for a live aboard, open water boat. The motion in anything much more than almost calm seas is just too relentless. When the boat sets up a roll in following seas the only comfortable place to be is at the helm, but the workload is so high that about an hour at a time is all one can reasonably expect to endure. If it can't be a Cat I hope to have more than 40' of LWL under me, and now I am really curious as to what we will learn on the November sail in the 47' mono hull across the Gulf Stream.

Forward heads are as useless in a pitching boat as experienced sailors always suggested.

The inside of the boat must be dry. Leaks are not to be tolerated, the boat needs a dodger, and keep the companionway pulled closed in any sea that may toss water that far.

An autopilot / wind vane is absolutely necessary for a short handed crew. If it breaks consider it an emergency and get to the nearest port as soon as possible for repairs. Constant helming will exhaust a short-handed crew to the point of making possibly fatal mistakes.

Anyone who takes to open water without a GPS and multiple back-ups, thinking that "traditional" navigation will be enough, is out of their freaking mind. If possible have two GPS systems independent all the way back to a split power source, then have a couple of hand-helds with spare batterers. Paper charts are good for pre-departure planning, getting an overall idea of what is around, and a place to plot lat / long points that were read off the the GPS. Make sure there is an operations manual available as well.

More GPS, if there is one system to know on the boat backwards, forwards, every nook and cranny, it is the GPS. Display control, mapping, route planning, waypoint entry and eddit, scale, every bit, every button, every keystroke; know it cold. When the chips are down and good navigation decisions need to be made NOW - that is no time to fumble.

Never take to open water without several thermos bottles on board. Anything hot to drink or eat during a wet / chilly watch is manna from heaven.

Make the sails as easy to handle as possible. Stopping the boat, heaving too, or just slowing it down for a while to catch a meal, a nap, or so the crew can use the head, can turn a difficult, unrelenting bash into an acceptable, slightly adventurous, passage. But if it takes a half hour of hard work to reef the sail or set the jib, the tendancy is to not do it and keep going, and that is usually a bad choice.

You can't spend too much money on good foul weather gear. On a 6 day passage around Long Island, in the summer, we were in our gear more often than not. If there is a hell it is not hot, it is wet and cold.

Have pity on anyone suffering from sea-sickness, do whatever you can to help them get over it. Your turn will come.

Custom work

We made a new Bimini Cover for Nomad, then added a boom tent / sunshade. Both were "home made," though the Bimini cover came as a kit. Funny how "custom" implies one thing, "home made" just the opposite. And yet, if one is careful and has (or acquires as needed) a necessary level of skill, "home made" can exceed both factory and outsourced "custom" work.

The other interior work we have done on Nomad could also be considered "custom." It to was "home made" as well. And it came out looking at least as good as the factory work in the boat. It seems to me that, unless one has the resources to buy a very high end boat to begin with, the factory work of most boats is pretty pedestrian. Not shoddy exactly, (don't look too deep behind covers, doors, or into bilges) but not what I used to think of when I heard the word "yacht."

Nomad, in fact, is a much better boat now than it was we we first found her up on the hard and covered in blue shrink wrap. Not only are her systems working better, water, engine cooling, and electrical - but she is simply cleaner, dryer and better looking to live in. It has taken, and continues to take, considerable effort. Not only in pure labor but in learning the skills (like sewing and splicing for me) or the mechanics (diesel maintenance was new). But in the end the boat is better than factory, more capable, more comfortable, and to some extent, uniquely "ours."

It is one of the things I like about owning a boat.

Life Jackets

As a life long swimmer, once-upon-a-time active SCUBA diver, also-once-upon-a-time certified life guard, I have developed a bit of a disdain for life jackets. Its not that I think they are bad, or never useful, anything like that. But I do tend to think that we rely on them too much. The idea that putting a life jacket on a child is somehow better than teaching that child how to swim is, to me, both inane and irresponsible. If one is not comfortable enough with the water to learn how to swim, perhaps one should not venture out on a small boat in the first place? A life jacket should be a secondary aid for someone who likes being in and around the water and has the skills to be comfortable in that environment, without a life jacket. And, given that I sail on a lake it is likely I could swim across on any given day, or at least swim half-way across, I tend to be a bit cavalier about having a life jacket near by. I mean, really, when the weather is so hot that about all anyone is wearing is a swimsuit anyway, there isn't a whole lot of difference between jumping off the boat to go swimming and falling off the boat to end up swimming. I recently watched 4 grown adults toss life vests into the water before they would jump in to paddle the 20 feet or so between our boat and theirs. Are you kidding me?

Last weekend we were coved out when a nice little (well, not so little) TRW rolled the lake in the dark, wee hours of the morning. Wind blew, lightning flashed, covers flogged, our little boat pitched and tossed...and I was out on deck dressed only in a light pair of pants. As I wrestled with the lines and pulled down the covers, it occurred to me that...

1) the water looked black and uninviting,
2) staying on the boat as it rocked and rolled was not a given,
3) being flung off the deck could easily include some kind of injury, (I'm still not sure that stanchions, vertical sharp metal sticks bolted to the deck, somehow add to the safety of a boat.)
4) swimming in a pair of pants would take some effort, (particularly in the waves that came with the storm),
5) finding a shore, even one as close at hand as we had in the cove, might not be easy in the reduced visibly of driving rain,
6) and that maybe I should have grabbed my life vest instead of my pants.

I still think life vests should be regarded as aids to swimmers. But I think I'll be keeping mine a bit closer to hand from now on.

Cats

I was in Ft. Lauderdale for a day and Brent from the Catamaran Co. showed me a couple of boats they have at the pier. Being Lagoon kind of folks the two bigger boats he showed me were 41 and 38 feet. Both are truly nice boats but I have never sailed on a Lagoon and would certainly want to spend a few days living on one before writing a check.

Then he showed me a Gemini 105Mc. Deb and I had looked at the 105 as a very interesting boat, until we boarded one in Annapolis the first time we were there. It appeared flimsy, lightweight, small and trailer-park like. We got off that thing as quickly as we could and never looked back...until yesterday. I'm not sure why the boat didn't strike me as quite so bad this time, maybe a couple of years of actually learning how to be a sailor? It is still small, but this time small strikes me as not so bad a thing. A 14 foot beam looks pretty proportional on its 33.5 foot water line. (I have to admit that, to my eye, some of the bigger Cats are looking decidedly "square" with beam / length ratios looking a little out of control.) And though 33.5 feet of LWL is shorter than we think would work for a live-a-board monohull, there is plenty of interior room in the Gemini with a nice master cabin that has a good view. (As opposed to the V-birth on a monohull, or the aft cabin on a Center Cockpit boat.)

Also, according to Brent, the Gemini is a fun sail. Its light weight and keel boards make it a fun ride on the water. "Are you a sailor or do you drive a condo," were one of his comments. It has the stability of a cat when on the hook, and (boards and rudders up) it draws 18 inches. All good things for a couple looking to sail where Deb and I want to sail. But...

The bridge deck is low. I mean really low, like 6 inches. Maybe the pounding will be no worse than on a mono with hard turn to the bilge, I just don't have enough experience to know. The sail drive is butt ugly when up out of the water, and it doesn't clear the water by much. Any wave action and that thing is going to be splashing in and out of the water constantly. The inside still has the fit and feel of a trailer, nothing like Nomad. I can't imagine that it can carry much of a load gracefully, though maybe the low bridge deck keeps you from piling on the weight. Seeing the bottom flat on the water would surely discourage you from putting that next box of spare parts on board.

I don't know, a Gemini or a pretty, 40' monohull? Having not yet sailed on a Gemini, I think I would lean to the monohull.

More lessons from Nomad

Not in the watter yet but getting close, Nomad's off season refit goes on. The aluminum holding tank failed. A new plastic model is in the works. This makes sense. Since buying the boat we have struggled to get the "head smell" under control. I replaced the head to tank hose, we have tried endless different chemicals, but stink can escape from holes too small for liquid to flow through. There is hope a new tank will give our noses a break.

The water heater failed as well. This also makes sense. Nomad's little engine slowly lost coolant but I could never figure out where it was going. While trying to get the water heater working I discovered that insulation blanket inside the metal cover was completely soaked. A new 10 gallon unit has been installed in the place of the old 7 gallon model.

We gave up on the idea of replacing the head sink faucet and shower head with marine units. The cost was out of sight for what appeared to be the cheapest of plastic parts. Home Depot supplied better quality units at 1/10th the cost. All that was needed was a few adapters to splice the dissimilar plumbing together. (Boat plumbing still strikes me as the lowest of low rent solutions. Soft plastic fittings and hose clamps? Really?)

We have gotten pretty bold about tearing things apart. Boats, after all, are pretty low tech. Routine A/C wiring and fiberglass work appear to be as complex as it gets. The rest is bolt, unbolt, or refinish.

Lessons from Nomad

We have been doing some serious work on Nomad. As a result of having so many parts off I have learned a thing or two about what I want to see on an ocean going boat.

I was surprised to find that Nomad had no backing plates under the bow pulpit mounts or lifeline stanchions. The washers used at the factory had crushed their way into the fiberglass. We put 1/4 inch mica blocks under the bow pulpit mounts and used fender washers under the lifeline supports. On any ocean going boat those items should be mounted as solidly as possible, with big, glassed in backing supports that can take a hell of a load.

Swim ladders must have steps. Round bars of bar steal are just too slippery to be of any use. Even on a calm lake to climb back aboard after a dip is to risk a broken limb. In a rolling sea fully dressed? No chance. Note: swim ladders are made of some hard stuff...punching holes in it will take effort and the best drills available.

Nomad's companionway steps, which hinge up to get to the engine like many boats, has no latch to hold them in place. On the lake it is an item I am likely to leave as is. On a blue-water boat everything that opens or moves or swings should be latched in place.

The hull / deck joint on Nomad is held together with self tapping screws set on about 9 inch centers. Okay for a lake boat, but during this last bit of work I discovered several of the screw heads pulled through the deck flange with some gaping of the joint. Oversize hardware and some new sealer fixed her up. On my next boat I want to see bolts with big washers on each flange, glassed in. That joint needs to be solid.

Once again it seems to me that boats are not assembled with the kind of robust quality I would have expected in an item intended to face some pretty hostile environments. Little things, but Deb and I are going to spend literally hundreds of hours this spring, fixing a list of "little things."

Nomad is a 1986, factory boat that has spent her whole life in fresh water. Given the amount of work needed just to keep her (or get her) in the shape I find acceptable, just how much work would be involved in an early 1980's salt water boat? If we buy such a boat as our home will we spend a year in the yard, spending money like mad, trying to make it into something we feel secure living on? Should we move "age" up near the top of the list of things to consider? Quality of maintenance, not year of manufacture, is what is important when it comes to airplanes, and I am sure the same is true of boats. But I can look at an airplane and its maintenance logs and get a good feel for what shape the machine is in. (A skill that didn't keep me from taking a job flying a Poppa-Oscar-Sierra Citation V!) I'm not as confident I can do so with a sailboat.

Chicago Boat Show

My thoughts on boats continue to evolve as we get deeper in and closer to the decision to pull the trigger on this thing. (3 years into a 5 year plan.) Catamarans are still my favorite platform but, unless I get a job on the East Coast, I fear they are just too expensive. We could probably afford one if we wait long enough, but therein lies the rub. I'm not sure how much longer I want to wait.

So, with the tide appearing to favor a mono-hull, what are the things what matter, and the things what don't? The first "thing what matters" is size. With an exception or two I think anything much less than 40 feet is just too short to call home, and anything over 46 is unnecessary. Catalina frames the tape measure, with the 375 lying just over the "too short" call and their 445 just short of "unnecessary." With boats in that length draft doesn't seem to be much of a "deal killer."

A modified fin keel with a skeg hung rudder seems the underwater shapes for good passage making when things get rough. Though truth to tell I am having trouble keeping the "modified fins" and "modern full" keels separate. I think one sort of morphs into the next depending on the specific boat / designer. I am not a fan of the racing fins and balanced rudders. I know they mean "performance" but it looks to me like they also mean "easily damaged" and "expensive to repair."

Though Deb and I will spend more time on the hook than we do underway, (just like everyone else)I like the idea of a boat whose design parameters emphasize sea keeping and passage making. I'll give away a little floor space in the V-birth for a boat that doesn't pound or a knot of hull speed for a boat that is stable in the wind and waves. I like a cutter rig but would do away with a bowsprit, though I like the way Nomad looks with hers. Still, one often pays for the length of the bowsprit when at the dock, so why not have that length in the water? And I always wondered as the wisdom of having a rigging load tied to the boat at or near the waterline and right at the bow.

Even though I sill would like a Cat, I often ponder the issues that come with not being able to track well to windward. (Unless you get one with boards.) Deb and I plan on making the East Coast home. Going to windward would seem to be the task at hand at least half the time. Something to consider with various mono-hulls as well.

Cockpit locations no longer matter much, though a completely open transom seems a poor idea on a cruising boat. I have become fond of twin helms.

Separate shower stall (with overhead hatch please) is close to a deal breaker. Water maker, probably. Big fridge, not really but a little ice maker would be nice. And make mine a close to being energy independent as we can get, solar and wind.

And make it sooner rather than later.