Another excellent clip from Jerry Higgins and his Bullseye Lia. The other sailor is Mike Higgins aboard his self-built catboat Jean Alden. —Eds

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by Doug Kelch

I have always admired traditional rigs with a special place in my heart for the gaff cutter rig. I cam close to buying one on several occasions, but they were always wooden boats that were older and larger than I wanted. In reading a number of books on traditional rigs that implied a traditional rig on a modern hull could be very effective, and reading about the amazing accomplishments of Charles Stock (70,000 nm in a 16-foot gaff cutter), I decided to convert my Montgomery 15 to a gaff cutter.

I hoped the conversion would result in a more versatile sail configuration without giving up too much of the nice performance of the Montgomery 15 Bermuda sloop rig. Charles Stock's analysis made me nervous as he predicted as much as a 10 degree loss in pointing ability. If this turned out to be the case the conversion would be a nice exercise, and would satisfy my curiosity, but would not be retained for any length of time.

I needed a new set up sails so I bit the bullet and did the design work using a combination of technical information, advice from knowledgeable people ( John Harris @ Chesapeake Light Craft, Jerry Montgomery, and Douglas Fowler Sailmaker), rules of thumb, and cosmetics. I patterned the overall sail plan after Charles Stock's boat and went with a low to moderate peaked gaff with two nearly evenly divided foresails.

The results?

Outstanding! I don't believe I lost more than 1 – 3 degrees in pointing ability but, with the increased power in the lower sail area, the velocity made good to weather is at least as good as the Bermuda sloop rig. The boat gets up to hull speed in a lower wind range than before and yet does not require a reef until 3 – 5 kts more wind than the original sail configuration.

At the Lake Havasu poker run there were very few boats who showed the ability to move in the light air as easily as the gaff cutter.

With the lower center of effort the gusts do not affect the boat as quickly as before and sailing range of wind speeds seems much broader. The first day of sea trials it was gusting near 30 mph and handled well without a reef. The boat heels less quickly in the gusts which makes the gusts seem less powerful.

Another M15 sailor invited me out to play in a wind forecast of 28 mph gusting to 40 so off we went. I was a bit later into the water than the other boat so we did not have any time to do a side by side comparison. However with just the small staysail and a double reefed main I was able to punch through the waves on Lake Pleasant, AZ ( 2 – 4 ft) and keep the boat speed between 4 and 4.5 kts. The local weather recording systems confirmed that the steady winds were 28 mph but only recorded gusts to 33 mph. It was so much fun that I sailed the 10 miles to the end of the lake and spent the night on board.

I attribute much of the performance to an excellent set of sails by Douglas Fowler.

Concerns? No concerns about sailing ability or cruising, but is does take longer to rig and get into the water. It has a removable bowsprit that cannot be mounted while on the trailer. The lower, spread out sail plan increases the turning resistance and she is slower through a tack. I am very very happy with the rig and look forward to the opportunity to cruise or race with other M15 s to complete the comparison.

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I finally got out to the lake after several months of family stuff, work stuff, honeydo stuff, and all-around-too-lazy-to-get-off-my-ass stuff that precluded any sailing adventures other than of the armchair variety. It was reading about Tony Bigras' adventures with Miss Cindy in the last issue of SCA that finally got me off my butt and making the trip to the lake. In fact, as I begin this post, I'm there right now-- At anchor in Why Cove, tapping away on my Macbook Pro. Here's a self-portrait:

I'm quite a handsome fellow, as I'm sure you will agree.  (I'm taken. ladies, thank you very much.)

I almost didn't launch today. The wind was picking up as I arrived at the boat, and for a moment, the former pilot in me cleared his throat and made rude gestures, trying to get my attention,  before I swatted him into the background.  Failure was not an option: I had already purchased  a substantial pile of fattening, salt-encrusted munchies and cheap red wine to provision for this trip, and if I returned home with too much evidence of my seagoing gluttony, the Admiral would surely have me keelhauled. No, I had the food, and the booze, I had to go out there on the water and consume it.  So I launched.

The sail to Why Cove was mostly uneventful. The wind was behind me, and running before it, I was wondering why I had the jitters earlier. It was quiet, the breeze was just enough to keep me cool, and other than the fact that the wind kept shifting as I rounded Windy Hill, life was good. There were two other sailboats out on the lake-- One was a pretty large boat beating towards me under genoa alone, a sight which I found kind of odd.  As I watched, the other boat got laid over by a gust and rounded up, genoa flapping madly.  He got it sorted out quickly and resumed his course. I kept watching as we passed, wondering if he'd get pushed over again, but he did not.  I shrugged.  One of those AZ gusts. A few minutes later, the other  sailboat, this time some species of open cat boat about 18' long, came around Windy Hill under a deeply reefed sail. We waved as we passed, and I rolled in my genoa bit as the wind became a bit gusty.

The wind was pretty fluky. It kept changing direction and intensity. I rolled in genoa, I rolled out genoa. I jibed about 20 times. All this goofing around with sails was interfering  with some quality munchie eating time, but I persevered,  and ran the entire distance, dripping with pickle juice,  stepping on spilled goldfish crackers, to a waypoint I had made that marked a good approach into the cove. My brilliant plan was  to attempt my first anchoring under sail alone. When I hit the waypoint, I hove to and prepared the anchor and rode for my imminent arrival. Once I was hove too, I realized that the wind was gusting pretty good-- But I did not reduce sail,  anticipating less wind once inside the cove. 

I fetched the anchor off its bracket on the pulpit and brought it back to the cockpit, leading the rode outside of the shrouds. I fed the 10 feet of chain into a 5 gallon bucket, and positioned the anchor for a quick deployment from the cockpit.  Then I set course into Why Cove.  I noticed a large party barge anchored inside the cove, and several jet skis were blasting about inside. Plus I could see a couple of bass boats.  Why Cove was busier than I had ever seen.  I was a bit nervous about all the traffic interfering with my planned anchoring adventure, but pressed on.

Right about then, I got hit by a serious gust of wind that flattened the boat.  She went over much faster than I had ever experienced, and was in seconds  shipping water over the cockpit gunwales.  I watched the sails slap the water as the wind sang in my ears.  Through the open companionway, I saw the Stuff Stowed To Starboard make a graceful flight to to kiss the Stuff Stowed To Port. All of this occurred in slow motion, of course, and I was kind of surprised to find myself analytically estimating how likely I was to start shipping water in the cabin as I hung on for dear life. Eventually I remembered to cast loose the sheets, and the boat popped right back up, none the worse for wear, though El Capitan was having mild Heart Palpitations.

I quickly got the boat hove to and dropped all sail.  To hell with this anchoring under sail crap.  I'm firing up Mr. Tohatsu and getting out of this screwy wind.  We chugged past the houseboat and jet skis and made our way into Why Cove without further drama.

Once I got to my anchoring spot, I dropped the hook and let out a generous scope. Dinner and Cocktail Hour went as planned.  Soon it was bedtime. As I drifted off to sleep, I reflected on what had happened.  In retrospect, my mistakes were obvious:

• I should have paid a bit more attention to my inner voice when contemplating whether or not to launch.

• When running, it never seems as windy as it actually is. I sailed along blissfully, shoveling trail mix into my gaping maw, without a clue how strong the wind actually was.
• Seeing the other boats rounding up, and under seriously reduced sail, should have given me a clue, but it did not-- I was too busy stuffing my face with a large (and vexingly drippy) sandwich.
• I always wear a harness when I am sailing with the kids, and when I'm moving about on the deck.  I wasn't snapped in when I got knocked down, despite the obviously flaky conditions.  I should have been-- If I had fallen overboard, I would have been blown offshore, and it was a long way to the other side of the lake. As soon as it became apparent that the wind was stronger than I expected, I should have snapped in.
• I left the companionway open.  Should have closed it, no matter how much that would have interfered with fetching various food items.
• As is my usual custom, I did not fasten the latches to hold the daggerboard in place.  If we had gone much past 90 degrees in the knockdown, the daggerboard could have slid up into the cabin.  That would adversely impact the righting moment, (ya think?).  I believe I will fasten the holddowns every time from now on.  It only takes a minute, and might preclude having to explain to Sweetie why I made the kids swim across the lake after the boat sank halfway across.

Nonetheless, nautical catastrophe was averted, no thanks to the idiot-in-command.  Next time I'll be more careful.

Here's some pictures of the non-gnarly part of the sailing adventure, starting with the world's finest computer desk:

A peaceful Arizona anchorage, with bonus saguaros:

To the bottom right of the above picture is the nook that Felicidade & I stuffed ourselves into as recounted in a recent SCA article. Bessie the Lake Kraaken was perched on the hill on the right side of the picture.  I braved cow poop and spiky things to climb to the top of the hill  to get cell phone coverage and report in to the Admiral. 

The lake is so high, it's overflowing.  A lot of formerly dry stuff is now drowned, and eager to snatch any passing sailboats and send them to a watery doom. Here's a rather creepy looking tree:

That's all for now, the Honeydo list beckons.  Fair winds!

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Famous small-boat adventurer Frank Dye has died.

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Here's another brilliant clip from small-boat sailor Jerry Higgins:

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Special thanks to reader Mark Peaty who made these brilliant 3-D renderings of SCAMP. His letter is below. —Eds

Dear Editors,

That was cruel of you teasing us with the SCAMP article, in the latest issue, but not having the plans available yet. The thought that this might be the boat I had been looking for kept nagging at me. I finally had to get "to work" on it by modeling it in 3D. Attached is a PowerPoint show that has an animation and several renderings of the model. I've sent it along so that you could share it with John Welsford and if so desired you could put it on the blog to temporarily appease others that are looking forward to building SCAMP.

The model does not include any of the small bits and pieces like cleats, halyards, ropes, etc. I was going for a conceptual look that I could use to help visualize with and not a photo realistic model for rendering purposes. I simplified the front of the cabin on deck to allow water to drain easily and added two rails along the benches for the rowing seat. Most everything else is taken directly off the sketch page in the magazine.

The model has some of the pieces in place with actual thickness of material, other pieces I still need to put more work into. It does allow for on-screen checking of dimensions to +/- 1/2". I could put a couple more views together with approximate dimensions if that would be helpful.

When I finish a couple of other actual projects I hope to get started on building SCAMP. My model indicates that SCAMP will have a roomier cockpit than the Venture 17 I used to have and I know it will be a lot more stable than the Styrofoam Snark I used to have. It will also fit into the back of my pickup truck which saves me the hassle of dealing with a trailer.

I hope you enjoy looking at the pics.

Mark

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A four plank aside half-decked Apple, gaff cutter rigged with tumblehome transom, sailing in the Alps
photos courtesy E. Reinhard.

Apple yawl dayboat, main and mizzen rigged with balanced lug sails and conventional transom
photo courtesy Tom Dunderdale, Campion Sail and Design

Apple yawl dayboat
photo courtesy Tom Dunderdale

Apple yawl dayboat
photo courtesy Tom Dunderdale

Peter Lord's 5 plank Apple 'Vips' with modified interior and his own carbon fibre spars and sail plan,
courtesy of Wojtek Baginski taken during the Raid Finland 2007 when he crewed for Peter Lord

Stitched and ready for glassing - Peter Lord's most impressive 5 plank Apple lugger with his own customized internal layout and rig. This hull is one of a number of variations based on the original 4 planker, including one with greater flare to the topsides and 3 inches more beam

courtesy Peter Lord

Vips in good company at Raid Finland, the lineup from left to right, Welsford, Oughtred, Herreshoff, Campion, Michaleck
courtesy Wojtek Baginski

Apple's Lug Yawl Sailplan- see her designer's comments below

'Pearl 16, a day sailer or beach cruiser, half-decked, with multichine stitch and tape or glued clinker-over-stringers construction. The hull is of 6mm ply, the deck and cockpit of 5 or 6mm, with centre-board and dagger-board options. The cockpit has various permutations, from deep and open, to reduced volume, through to self-draining, but all with built-in buoyancy. Pearl, with either a lug main and mizzen, gunter yawl or gaff cutter rig, is beamier, flatter floored, fuller transomed than Apple, with lead and water or water ballast.'

Here's Pearl's midsection redesigned for sleeping floors per my request

'George Holmes’ design the ‘Ethel’ of 1888 was digitised then stretched by Selway Fisher - who then drew up their own stitch-and-glue strake pattern for the hull, which I used when constructing the first one.

I further modified the appearance of the design during construction to produce the boat in the photo by altering both deck camber and sheer, and building a different deck and cockpit layout - with in particular the narrow, sweeping side-decks and coamings - as well as a new high aspect-ratio semi- pivoting daggerboard, a high aspect ratio lifting rudder and a wider, more practicable tiller (all necessary as I intended racing the boat), and altered the rig twice - both during construction and a few months after. Most construction details are different, too. Further detailed changes were listed in ‘The Boatman’ review in the October/November issue of 1992.

The final appearance of the boat - though not the hull - is different to both Fisher’s digitised design and the original ‘Ethel’. Fisher’s modified version - which he named the ‘Lillie’ - follows Holmes’ original layout of deck and cockpit, low aspect centreboard and non-lifting rudder, but with his own rig; and it is this which he offers in his on-line catalogue - though illustrated with a photograph of the changed deck and cockpit of my boat.'

"Though the gloss is no longer -some eight years later - as deep as here, you can still see your own face in the
original finish."

'Electra: with a lower, flatter and fuller floor, the lines of this canoe yawl could be likened to a compromise between George Holmes' Ethels 1 and 111, but she is longer - with more freeboard - slightly beamier and certainly more burdensome with a sharper, deeper bow for better windward work as well as a drier, more comfortable performance in a steep chop. For 7 plank multi-chine or glued clinker. Stable yet fast, attractive and able, light yet strong, the seven plank aside hull goes together reasonably quickly to give a satisfying traditional appearance with modern materials. Sealed tanks run under the side decks for a good part of the hull to provide buoyancy and strength. Provision has been made for 55 kg of water ballast if required. These hulls give a true planing performance if sailed hard, whilst retaining the noted sea-kindliness of the double-ender if sailed more gently.'


all material courtesy Tom Dunderdale/Campion sail and Design, unless otherwise noted



Tom Dunderdale's elegant distillation of the British workboat, especially those from Cornwall, Kent and Sussex, really caught my eye. His flagship boat is the Apple and her plumb bow, lug yawl rig and raking transom hit home for me, but there are many iterations/variations. Conceived with an eye to tradition, the designer states:

Apple is a sweet-sheered, originally yawl-rigged, balanced lug day-sailer that has a surprising turn of speed. From her plumb bow to her raking transom, she has very much the air of a traditional boat, but her lines reflect modern thinking more than might at first be apparent. With the original small yawl lug rig layout she is exceptionally easily controlled with finger-tip-light steering at any degree of heel, showing the inherent balance of the hull form and will heel to some 40 degrees without driving the gunwale under when hard on the wind, remaining well mannered and docile. The flair of the forward sections tends to throw spray clear and she is surprisingly dry when sailed hard. Off the wind in a breeze, she lifts smoothly onto a plane without effort or fuss. In lighter airs, she slips along in a most satisfying manner, and will even sail herself for short periods if the sails are balanced carefully. For those who regularly sail in light wind areas, the large light weather mizzen makes for a truly stunning performance. And when the wind dies in the evening, she will row surprisingly well as the quarters are well lifted, the beam moderate and the weight surprisingly light thanks to the glass/ply/glass construction. Should a more sedate approach to sailing be required, the Apple will easily accommodate sand or shingle ballast bags as she has considerable carrying capacity without spoiling her sailing lines, and such disposable ballast ensures that easy manhandling ashore is not lost. Integral water ballast tanks can be built in to the decked version, too.

Apple was designed as a rewarding, handsome, open day-sailer for large lakes, rivers and sheltered estuary waters, one that could be built in a modest single car garage on a very modest budget yet would engender a real pride of ownership, with an ability and performance to entrance and enthuse her crew, most especially when sailing in company with modern craft, and not demoralize them with indifferent or poor sailing qualities once the novelty of sailing something 'traditional' has worn off. In her original open form, she is not, however, designed for cruising exposed coastal waters in strong winds - which is in keeping with other open or even partially decked designs, traditional or modern, old or new, including some supposedly able 'cruising' dinghies and dayboats - as it would be asking too much of such a light and almost totally open boat - and such a simple, inexpensive one - and probably of her crew, too. [But note that with the substantial reduction in open cockpit space as well as increase in weight to give the necessary momentum to punch through head seas, the decked, ballasted version is more suitable for open waters. The inherent exceptional balance of the design makes for far sweeter, easier handling than the hard-mouthed antics of some portly dayboats when over-pressed, whilst the ballast provides surprising power and stability with the crew inboard. There's a general absence of slamming when driving hard through a short hollow chop with little thrown spray or when weaving through a confused head sea and partially luffing the crest and then bearing away down the back, whereas a full bowed 'U' sectioned boat in such conditions will stamp and slam if not stop, throwing spray, thin sheets or, if they're really unfortunate, solid lumps of water at her luckless crew. In such conditions, a dry, well-tempered boat truly shines, and Apple is just that.] Within the constraints of the design, there really is little on the water that approaches her - she is handsome, able and distinctive.

Digging a little deeper into the Campion website (a word of warning: at first navigating the website is a bit like learning to drive in a foriegn country, challenging, but worth the effort) I discovered a wide range of delightful small boats, most of them with a traditional feel, and all drawn with the amateur builder in mind, using modern materials and construction techniques. With some of these designs, Tom offers a dizzying array of options, allowing the builder to tailor the boat he builds precisely to his needs. In addition to the Apple, I especially like the Pearl and Electra designs (see design notes above). I am so taken with the Pearl in fact, that, notwithstanding great designs by Oughtred, Welsford, Vivier and a covey of American designers, I'm ordering plans of Pearl. Of course, it'll no doubt be a long time building, and I need to get my O'Day in this year. I've been corresponding with Mr. Dunderdale, both as a collaborator 0n this article and as a potential design client, and have found him forthcoming, generous and erudite.

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