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Building the Barbara Ann
Petite Riviere, NS (09/10/01) - Building a custom boat, especially
one as unconventional as this one, has
been an education. For the past two years, I've been spending much of my time as
project manager overseeing the construction, and I've spent many weeks crawling
through the lazarettes and engine compartment helping to string the nine miles
of wire running through her. When we started this project I didn't really
understand the fundamental difference between small sailboat and large sailboat construction. Smaller, simpler boats have self-contained systems that are easily
installed without impacting the whole vessel. Larger yachts have engineering teams
at the builder that do most of the machinery layout (and they have more room for
the systems). We have the systems of a 80' boat in a 52' package. When we
started, I thought the sixty page design spec was thorough. Now I know that it
didn't even scratch the surface of decisions and tradeoffs that needed to made
to fit all this stuff in the boat.
We started this project wanting a boat designed 100% for cruising. However, all the
previous boats I've sailed (Finn, 5O5, Scampi, J24, Baltic 37) were fast and
responsive and I was not willing to give that up. I just prefer to distance
cruise, not race. Barbara and I also like northern waters. I like to be on the
water in New England on nice days in January without frostbite. We live aboard a
lot. We slog through snow going up the dock. Sometimes I feel like I've sailed
or motored more in dense fog than any other condition.
We started the project with a fairly short wish list: we wanted a bigger bed
than the one in our Baltic 37. We wanted warm toes in January. We wanted a real
shower that requires no gymnastics and where the majority of the effort is
drying ourselves not the woodwork. And we wanted the support systems
(electricity, TV, water, air conditioning and heat) that would give us the
creature comforts of a slip while at anchor or at a mooring. We wanted freedom
from slip reservations weeks in advance.
We wanted a pilothouse to provide us with shelter while motoring on a hot day
with no wind in August or sailing in sub-zero conditions in January.
We wanted a chef's galley where my wife could work her magic and have space
for all her tools and ingredients.
Until we discovered that we really wanted a pilothouse, we were looking at
production Baltics, Swans, and Oysters. We wanted a boat large enough to cram in
all the stuff we wanted for liveaboard comfort, like a washer-dryer and
dishwasher, but small enough that we wouldn't require a crew. Most frequently
it's just two of us aboard and it's not unusual for me to do a passage alone.
The wish list expanded to include: an interior designed for two liveaboards
and two guests, a Disp/LWL comparable to a Baltic 47 (around 170), a SA/Disp at
least as good as most Baltics and Swans (around 21), and a draft no greater than
roughly six feet (with our previous boat we managed to dredge a few new channels
occasionally). We wanted sail handling that would work for me alone, hopefully
for the next twenty years and we wanted quality of workmanship to Baltic or Swan
standards.
Then I discovered the Aerorig and had the opportunity to sail on a 65 footer
and a 58 footer. After one day sailing an Aerorig, it's radical shape became a
thing of beauty to me. Just like the big, bendy, free standing mast on a Finn.
My decision was made to build a custom boat with an Aerorig. This led me to
Sparkman and Stephens who had announced an earlier Aerorig design. My first
meeting with the design team was in my home on the New Hampshire seacoast with
Mitch Neff and Greg Matzat. I was very pleased that they were interested
in the project even though it's not a 150 footer for an Arab prince. We were
underway. I asked them to design me a 46' boat, put in all the junk we wanted,
and then stretch it until it was light and fast.
I since have learned that we probably have done really well in this regard.
While most production yachts use a pretty stripped down racing configuration for
Disp, S&S tends to pack in everything in the calculations. Our Disp/LWL
includes every appliance, the entertainment electronics, Gailrider, immersion
suits, three anchors and chain, etc., etc.
To get the quality of workmanship we wanted, we selected Covey Island
Boatworks in Nova Scotia for the construction because of their reputation for
incredible craftsmanship on wooden boats. Construction was begun in the fall of
1999.
The pace of boatbuilding has been an awakening for me. Coming from the
telecommunications industry, I've seen whole industries rise and fall in the
time it's taken to build this one boat, but it's worth it in the end. The
craftsmanship at Covey is amazing. I feel that the quality of hull construction
and the joinery is every bit as good as any European builder that we could have
selected. However, I think the entire boat building industry could learn some
lessons about project management, engineering revision control, and
manufacturing systems. As high tech as it is, this boat is still essentially
hand crafted.
We're nearing the end of construction at last and we'll be launching in weeks
not months. All indications are that we'll be in Boston with her this fall and
if at all possible we'll be heading to the Caribbean via Bermuda. Later we hope
to spend a year exploring the Mediterranean. I invite you to join us
on these pages during our journey and see if S/V Barbara Ann meets up to the
loving care that's gone into her design and construction.
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