Side seating is a subject which comes up frequently in the emails I receive. Previously I have made comments about a simple arrangement which suits Phoenix III, Phoenix 15, First Mate and Flint very well, and is simple to fabricate. However, I have not included construction details in any of my plans, so I'm going to give some information about the system which I prefer.
This photo shows removable side seats in the Phoenix III built by Paul Hernes, the fellow for whom the boat was designed in the first place. Paul made deluxe versions as you can see!
The seats are a loose fit and rest on wooden cleats glued and screwed to the face of the stern sheets and the aft edge of the main thwart. For my own use I would probably use 19mm x 19mm (3/4" x 3/4") for the cleats but the size is not critical.
This was Paul's approach based on the idea I had given him. At this stage he had short support cleats under the fore and aft ends of the seats, but I'll discuss other options later.
Here you can see the magic of the arrangement. By bringing the the two seats into contact along the centreline of the boat at the same level as the main thwart and the stern sheets, there is a bunk flat high above any bilge water, with plenty of storage space underneath.
I don't remember how wide Paul made his seats, but for my own use I think I'd go for 305mm (1') wide, giving a bunk flat 610mm (2') wide. 559mm (22 inches) is considered a standard minimum in boat design, so here you get two extra inches of luxury! In the case of Phoenix III, Phoenix 15, First Mate, and Flint, the sleeping lengths are 1861mm (6' 1-1/4"), 1910mm (6' 3-1/8"), 1766mm (5' 9-1/2") and 2132mm (7') respectively.
Another approach is to use plywood seats with (say) 42mm x 19mm (1-7/8" x 3/4") framing.
19mm x 19mm (3/4' x 3/4') cleat against stern sheets bulkhead of Phoenix 15
...and against the aft face of the midships thwart
Plywood side seats with timber framing...
...slid together to make a full-length bunk flat
So as you can see, the provision of side seating and an effective bunk flat is a simple and light-weight proposition. Having said all of this, I still prefer to sit down in the turn of the bilge when sail, where one's weight is more effective as ballast than anywhere else other than hiking out beyond the weather rail. People find this hard to believe, but it can be easily demonstrated on paper.
David Lillistone comfortably seated in First Mate (on the bottom) towards the end of a long sail
Some of you may remember me having written about 'Whimbrel' a long while back. This embryonic design generated a considerable amount of comment and interest. Since my last article about 'Whimbrel' a lot has changed in my life, but my feelings about 'Whimbrel' have remained the same.
I was approached by a fellow back in 2009 from memory, who asked me to modify the plans for the 'San Francisco Great Pelican' to make the boat buildable using the 'Stitch-and-Glue' technique. Looking at the plans in detail convinced me that a totally new design was a better way to get a practical result. So the 'Whimbrel' idea was born.
The man who commissioned the project was unexpectedly posted overseas and so the urgency for a completed set of plans evaporated. However, I remained interested in the concept and tinkered for a year or so. My workload and life changes required me to shelve the project, but I have recently gone back for a second look.
Whimbrel images as she was last time I posted. The inwards-tapering footwell has been changed to a more open, parallel-sided set-up.
In the intervening years I've experimented with alternative cockpit and cuddy hatch layouts, and even a full-keel version without leeboards, but at the moment I have settled on a slot-top cuddy and a conventional self-draining cockpit. I'm in the process of drafting building plans at a leisurely pace. Here are some renderings of what will be the version in the plans.
Whimbrel with her free-standing masts set
Cockpit layout from above
Another shot from above showing self-draining cockpit, the free-flooding well just forrard of the stern transom, the spot in the foredeck where the free-standing mast rotates into a self-draining centreboard-case-like arrangement. This provides a deep bury for the heel of the mast and allows the tabernacle to be quite low and unobtrusive.
The mast case arrangement showing foam-filled spaces adjacent to the bow transom and then stowage spaces either side of the case between bulkhead #1 and the forrard cabin bulkhead. Each of these lockers are subdivided by horizontal floors which can be seen in transparent white. The upper spaces are anchor/deck lockers accessible through hatches in the foredeck, and the lower spaces are for dry stowage accessible from the cabin through openings in the bulkhead. The construction of these parts is very simple and they add tremendous structural strength.
A view into the cabin showing the heads of the raised, slatted bunk flats, the open space just ahead of them for trinkets, and then the openings into the lower lockers each side of the mast case.
Bunk flats viewed looking aft towards the main cabin bulkhead and the port side.
I'll post again when the plans are getting close to completion. Let know what you think!
Here is a twenty second clip showing First Mate sailing to windward on an enjoyably fresh day. This should give some indication of a number of things - the benefit of a sharp entry when it comes to spray suppression, the effectiveness of a well cut balance lugsail (in this case 76 sq.ft.), and how pleasant it is to sit low in the boat with one's weight concentrated in the weather bilge.
Note that the skipper is sitting forward against the main thwart, so that his weight is in-line longitudinally with the centre-of-buoyancy, ensuring that the boat trims correctly.
Video courtesy of Ian Hamilton - First Mate skipper David Lillistone
I am approaching sixty-five years of age and for most of my life I have spent my nautical leisure hours sailing a dinghy of one sort or another. Dinghy sailing has added greatly to my understanding of a range of subjects, and other than the experience of being a spouse and a parent, sailing has been my central passion.
A recent three-day trip allowed me to add to my dinghy cruising experience in a manner which may be of interest to others who are reaching an age where comfort and shelter send out a Siren call to dinghy sailors who have reached an age of decrepitude. One of my sons accompanied me and my equally decrepit friend Ian, and he suggested that we pair of oldies would benefit from something more comfortable to sleep aboard that a pair of light-weight sailing dinghies. Dave's suggestion was that we should take along my Phil Bolger-designed 16 ft diesel lobsterboat to act as a mothership.
Phil Bolger Lobsterboat powered by a Yanmar 1GM10 diesel of 8 hp (continuous rating)
The Lobsterboat as drawn by Phil Bolger with an open interior, strip-planked smooth hull, and powered by a long-shaft 15hp outboard. With the designer's consent, I built mine with a glued-lapstrake hull, a cuddy, and an inboard diesel.
Ian wasn't impressed with the idea of taking along a motorboat, but I could see the advantages given where we were intending to go, so I told him it was going to happen whether he liked it or not.
The initial plan was for the camping gear, food, and water to be carried in the Lobsterboat and that we would all take turns sailing the dinghies. The combination looked good because the Lobsterboat cruises very happily at five or six knots despite her semi-displacement hull, and she has a big propeller well suited to towing if required.
The dinghies were a Flint and a First Mate - both being 15 footers (or very close to) - Flint is a rowboat which sails well, and First Mate is a sailboatwhich rows nicely!
Flint showing a 59 sq.ft. sprit-boomed Leg-o'-Mutton sail as used on many of Phil Bolger's small sailing craft
First Mate with a 76 sq.ft. Balance Lugsail
Flint is currently rigged with a 59 sq.ft. Phil Bolger generic sprit-boomed Leg-o'-Mutton sail left over from a previous boat, while I wait for the 'as designed' gaff-headed sloop rig to arrive. The combination of a tall rig set on a heavy composite mast and a sail without the capacity to be reefed meant that the idea of sailing Flint down the bay for four hours into a blustery south-easter was not practical. So, we set off with Flint under tow, and David sailing First Mate. Strike one for the Lobsterboat...
We were sailing into the lee of Green Island here and the water was relatively flat - but outside the lee things were pretty boisterous!
The conditions outside the harbour were 'character building', with a strong wind right in or teeth. Dave sailed hard on the wind, but the combination of a strong headwind and an outgoing tide meant that we were making slow progress. Nobody wanted the sailing to stop, but in order to get to our destination before dark, it was decided to cut short the sailing at a point just under one quarter of the way to our anchorage. This situation demonstrated just how beneficial the mothership concept was turning out to have become. We were all time-limited, and therefore did not have the luxury of anchoring-up somewhere until the conditions improved. But with the Lobsterboat and her muscular Yanmar diesel, we were able to continue - straight into the teeth of the playful south-east wind while towing both sailing dinghies. Strike two for the Lobsterboat...
As always seems to be the case, the camera makes the sea look more calm than it actually is - as you can see from Flint leaping over a wave, it was rougher than it appears.
It was late in the afternoon when we reached out destination, but as soon as we were safely anchored, Dave rigged Flint and went off sailing around the anchorage and beyond. Our harbour was excellent as a anchorage, but it was so well protected that we only got light and flukey wind, and the sailing was less than exciting.
About a mile from our intended anchorage
Mothership safely anchored , allowing for an evening sail in Flint
What became immediately clear to all three of us was just how pleasant it was to have a roomy, stable boat upon which to set up our accommodations. In our part of Australia the UV levels are cruel to humans much of the time. In our dinghies we rely on sun-screen and protective clothing, but in the Lobsterboat we had the tremendous benefit of a bimini and a cuddy cabin. We all sufferred from the sun over the three days on the water, but it would have been much, much worse without shelter. Yet another strike for the Lobsterboat...
The Lobsterboat and Flint. In the late afternoons we attached shade-cloth around the western-facing end of the bimini.
We spent a pleasant few days exploring - mostly in the sailing dinghies, but when we weren't sailing it was very convenient indeed to have access to the shore by way of rowing.
Flint acting as a tender
I'm expecting to get hold of some more photos and video, but in the meantime, here is a short Youtube clip of the outing...
Since publishing the previous article about Fleet and Fleet, and their respective performance under outboard power, I've been asked by several people to report on performance under oar power.
Flint was designed from the outset to be a dedicated rowing boat - the power and sailing options were after-thoughts. She rows beautifully in my biased opinion.
Fleet on the other hand has a hull-form which is not optimised for rowing, but because of her light-weight and lean hull, she does got surprisingly well - certainly much better than the typical aluminium outboard skiff (they are about as bad to row as you could imagine - even compared with an inflatable!
Here is Fleet in the only worthwhile clip I possess:-
Next is a nice clip from a Flint builder in Italy (I think) - such a pleasant little clip:-
These two clips should be viewed in the context of the previous post if you haven't read it already
My
introduction to “reading” the shape of a boat’s hull by viewing a lines drawing
came from watching over Dad’s shoulder as he read copies of “The Rudder”, Motor
Boating’s “Ideal Series”, Howard Chapelle’s “American Small Sailing Craft” and
other such documents. I guess I was about five years old at the time, and it
wasn’t too long before I had a practical introduction to a table-of-offsets
when Dad started to loft the lines of William Atkin’s Nancy, a 15ft 6in LOA modified sailing dory of 5ft breadth, and
13ft 6in length on the waterline. My part was to read out the offsets as Dad
marked everything on his full-size lofting. I didn’t understand what the
numbers meant, but I knew they were somehow very important.
Full-size lofting taking place in my workshop around 2003. Basically, expanding a set of lines from the scaled paper drafting to full-sized pencil and ballpoint drawing on white-painted plywood.
Full-size
lofting taking place in my workshop around 2003. Basically, expanding a set of
lines from the scaled paper drafting to full-sized pencil and ballpoint drawing
on white-painted plywood.
As years
went by my free days were spent sailing a Charles MacGregor-designed Sabot at the local sailing club and
generally living a salt-water life, enjoying the freedom afforded to kids in
the early sixties. But in the evenings I found myself drawn more and more
frequently to the stash of books about boats which lived in a particular part
of the wall of bookshelves in our TV-deprived house.
The drawings
which attracted my attention most were the outboard profiles and the
sail-plans. To me it appeared that the lines drawings were only for higher
beings than myself, and they meant little to me.
Moving on fifty or
sixty years, I now know that a boat drawing without a set of lines is like music
without notation. Yes, music can be played by ear, and a boat can be built by
eye or half-model – but for most of us, a set of lines is the key to
visualising and understanding the shape and behaviour of a particular boat.
A typical lines drawing, showing waterlines, buttock lines, and hull sections. I also draw diagonals, but they are not shown in this particular drawing
But just as
I know people who are amazed that I can’t ‘hear’ a piece of music by looking at
the notes on paper, I find myself puzzled when someone who has a set of plans
for one of my small sailing or rowing designs asks me if she will take their
15hp outboard!
Back in
about 2003 I was asked to draw a design for a fifteen-foot rowing boat which
was to be used by a very experienced waterman when he needed to row to the
mainland from his island home on Moreton Bay, Queensland, Australia. Moreton
Bay is a wonderful and varied paradise for boat people, but one of its notable
characteristics is the ability to generate a particularly short and steep wave
pattern. This new rowing boat design needed to be shaped to handle such
conditions.
The
resulting design, called Flint, has
turned out to be very popular with home-builders. In fact, I use a Flint as my recreational boat-of-choice
at the moment. Sheis 14ft 10in x 4ft
3ins and weighs in at as little as 40kg (88lbs). The boat is arranged to carry
a small outboard for those who for whatever reason need that facility, and
shortly after the plans were released, I started to receive letters and emails
about using motors larger than the 2 to 2.5 horsepower units I recommended in
the plans and instructions. Much time was taken up in writing emails to potential
builders, explaining why excess power was counter-productive
In order to
be an efficient rowing boat, and to be able to sail effectively with the
optional sailing rig, the lines drawing for Flint
shows considerable keel rocker, and the buttock lines (i.e. the bottom of
the boat in profile) sweep upward at a significant angle to the waterline,
terminating above the water at the stern transom.
In order to
satisfy the many people who still insisted on using larger outboards, I drew
another design - based on Flint - which
has almost zero keel rocker aft of amidships – she is called Fleet, and will run happily at speeds of
up to 20 knots (23 mph) in good conditions. More importantly, Fleet will run quietly and smoothly at
her sweet-spot of about 12 knots (14 mph). At such a speed she is covering
ground to windward at nearly four times that of a similar sized sailing boat. A
potent and efficient magic carpet for an explorer who has limited available
time.
Flint is
14ft 10in x a fraction over 4ft at the outside of the hull planking – Fleet is 15 ft x 4ft - and both are made from the same pile of
plywood and can carry similar loads. But from there the similarity ends. Flint is sweet as a rowing boat,
close-winded and fast under sail, and cruises nicely with a two horse-power
motor throttled back to the point where noise is not intrusive – under such
outboard power she sits in proper trim at about 5.5 knots (6.3 mph).
Late last
year my boating friend, Ian Hamilton, and I had a wonderful opportunity to
carry out a series of tests, comparing the speed and behaviour of a Flint and a Fleet while using a range of motor sizes on both boats. The
conditions were perfect, and because there were two of us, we were able to
photograph and video the action, as well as recording the GPS-derived results
in a note book. What a tough job – but I guess that someone has to spend a
couple of days on the water playing with boats in the interests of science…
Although we tried a
range of engines, I’m only going to discuss in detail the results from the two
engines which I consider to be a good match – in efficiency and utility – for each
of the designs. These engines were a 2hp Honda four-stroke; a 4hp Suzuki
four-stroke; and an old 4hp
Yamaha two-stroke. Fleet has a
planing hull appropriate for higher speed operation, and Flint has a displacement hull as is appropriate for her row/sailing
hull-form.
The reason
that I was particularly interested in discovering the performance
characteristics of Fleet with a 4hp
motor, was because that is the size of motor I had in mind at the time of
drawing the boat – but it was one size I had no performance reports about. One
of the reasons for my curiosity is that 4hp/2.9kW is the maximum size motor one
can use in my State without having to register the boat.
Engine
Flint – one adult
Flint – two adults
Fleet – one adult
Fleet – two adults
2 hp Honda BF2
6.8 kts/7.8 mph
6.2 kts/7.1 mph
7.9 kts/9.1 mph
7.1 kts/8.2 mph
4 hp Yamaha 2-st
9.7 kts/11.2 mph
8.3 kts/9.4 mph
11.2 kts/12.9 mph
9.9 kts/11.4 mph
9.8 hp Tohatsu 2-st
-
-
21.3 kts/24.5 mph
18.5 kts/21.3 mph
The speed data shown in the table is exciting to me,
because it demonstrates just how efficient a lean, light-weight outboard
utility can be, and how the law of diminishing returns works in reverse when
the size and weight of power plant is reduced.
A spin-off which came from our testing is that we had
two boats of the same length, breadth, and weight, being powered by identical
engines, with the only significant difference being the bottom shapes from
amidships aft to the stern. This allowed a photographic comparison of the
longitudinal trim of the displacement and planing hulls under power.
Fleet above and Flint below
The drawing above shows the profile view of both hulls. Length, breadth
and depth are just about the same, but the bottom shape from the midsection aft
indicates major variations in performance.
Fleet at 8.5 knots (9.8 mph)
Above - Fleet running under the urge of
a 4hp Suzuki four-stroke, making 8.5 knots (9.8 mph) at part-throttle – the
engine being new and still in the early stages of the running-in process. Trim
is good, but in a small boat like this, crew placement is critical.
Fleet at 8.5 knots (9.8 mph)
Above - another shot of Fleet running at 8.5 knots (9.8 mph). In
both photos the boat is running cleanly, and is probably consuming around
2.5hp. Not much energy being wasted making spray.
Fleet running at 9.8 knots (11.3 mph)
In the photo above, I'm at the tiller of an old 4hp Yamaha which is pushing Fleet at a GPS-measured 9.8 knots (11.3 mph). The boat is carrying two men weighing a total of 171 kg (376 lbs) plus anchor, chain and a few gallons of drinking water. You can see just how clean and flat the wake is, and I find it amazing that the boat is doing this on 4 horse-power. Now things changed! We put the exact same motor on Flint to see what would happen with a displacement hull. Most people would not think a 4hp engine to be excessive power, but read on...
Flint being pushed by an old 4hp Yamaha
Here we
see Flint being also being driven by
a 4hp motor – in this case an old Yamaha. Note the completely different
fore-and-aft trim, caused not by crew placement, but by hydrodynamics. A
substantial amount of the engine’s power is being converted into spray and
wave-making. This is borne out when you look at my speed and power tabulation -
Fleet is fully 1.5 knots (1.7 mph)
faster than Flint with the exact same
engine and the same skipper – a 15.5% difference.
Another shot of Flint
displaying what happens when a hull optimised for displacement speeds is
provided with more power than she requires. If you look carefully at the angle
the aft gunwale makes with the water and then refer to my profile drawings, it
is easy to deduce that even though the bow is cocked high in the air, the aft
bottom of the boat is nearly parallel with the water’s surface.
Although Flint looked most inelegant when pushed
by a 4hp motor with an open throttle, she should not be written-off as a
power-boat.
Flint at 5.5 knots (6.3 mph) powered by a Honda 2 hp BF-2 at reduced throttle
Here she is looking efficient and capable, running at
5.5 knots (6.3 mph) pushed by an eighteen-year-old Honda 2hp air-cooled
four-stroke. The engine is throttled well back to a comfortablelevel of sound and
vibration, and the boat is running sweetly. I am not a powerboat person
by inclination, but there is great pleasure to be gained by running along
quietly like this, and you can cover a surprising distance in a short time –
all on a cupful of fuel.
Flint at 6.8 knots (7.8 mph) - 2 hp Honda at full-throttle
But even with the 2 hp motor, the boat starts to look
out-of-place when all two of those horses are let loose, getting the boat up to
6.8 knots (7.8 mph). One-and-a-half miles per hour faster than before, but the
pleasure has gone out of the experience – noisy and lacking the slicing motion.
Flint looking purposeful and dignified under sail.....
....and nestled into her surroundings under the gentle power of oars.
So what are the lessons illustrated by this
interesting little series of experiments?
·Two boats of similar proportions, weight
and displacement, but with differing bottom shape in profile, will operate in
vastly different ways when pushed beyond displacement speeds;
·It is folly to use a motor which is larger
than recommended by the designer, if your boat has a displacement hull (unless
she is a tug);
·A long, lean planning hull can be
extraordinarily efficient when driven by a motor which is unusually small by
current power-boat standards. Even a confirmed sailboat person such as myself
can derive lots of satisfaction from the effortless speed, economy, and low
noise-level of such a boat. A gentle way of covering distance in a short time,
without conspicuous consumption;
·Theory is wonderful, but gaining proof
through gently controlled experimentation is a powerful way to demonstrate
results.
The two boats – similar size and weight, but very
different performance.
The very first Phoenix III built - Paul Hernes' Willy Wagtail
(photo courtesy Paul Hernes)
Mike Schuit wrote asking:-
Sorry if the answer to this question is common knowledge already, but I’ve been wondering about the nomenclature of the P3... was there a P1 &P2? What were those like and how different are they from what appears to be the final product? Will there ever be a P4? (the post is on the "Ross Lillistone Builder's Group Page on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/groups/RLBuilders/ ).
Here is my brief reply:-
Hi Mike, The original Phoeinix (1) was designed and built by my late father back in 1970. She is now coming up 49 years of age, and is still going strong, and still in our family. She is 15' 2" x 5' 11" built batten-seam multi-chine with marine plywood planking over Western Red Cedar stringers. No epoxy - resorcinol, nails, and screws.
She was originally rigged with a deck-stepped mast and a sloop (or "Knockabout") rig of 103 sq.ft. She has a lovely shape which manages to look traditional, but without trying pretentiously to appear that way. Many of the designs around these days try hard to look traditional, without it coming naturally as a by-product of their shape and layout.
Phoenix II was a design exercise on my part as part of my self-education, and never built.
Phoenix III was what came of that exercise when I was sort of forced into producing a buildable design for Paul Hernes (the builder of the first example). It was not Paul who forced me, by the way, but my old, deceased friend, Doug Laver. He told Paul I'd design the boat for him, even though nobody had bothered to tell me!
There is a Phoenix IV in my portfolio, but I haven't decided whether to make her public, because I like number III, and she is easy to build.
Phoenix (I) with her original rig. She was about 17 years old at the time of the picture.
Phoenix as she is now (photo courtesy Steven Lillistone)
Phoenix as she is now (photo courtesy Steven Lillistone)
Phoenix II - I do have drawings as well, but the half-model gives the idea.
Mike wrote back:-
"Also curious, if you would be willing to share, what sorts of alterations you are thinking of for the P4, if it were ever to come to pass. Completely respect your choice as a craftsman and a businessman if you would prefer to keep that under wraps, though".
Well, a number of years ago I drew a "New" Phoenix III hull - a sort of, "what I would have drawn originally if I had known then what I now know". The centre-of-buoyancy is a little further forward, and there is a bit more flare up forward. Also, the quarters are not as firm as on the original.
All of the above changes were aimed at producing a hull which has less need of being sailed flat. I would possibly have designed some of these features into the original Phoenix III, but I was trying to keep the number of hull planks to a minimum to make construction easier for a newcomer to glued-lapstrake construction. The resulting wide planks needed to be "developable", which means their shape when bent and twisted into position on the hull had to be a segment of a cylinder or cone at every point of along their lengths. This placed some limits on the three-dimensional shape I could design into the hull - particularly in the forward sections.
Here you can see the fine forward sections of Phoenix III - very nice for getting to windward in a chop and staying dry, or for rowing. (photo courtesy of Al Burke)
When I started to draw a "New" Phoenix III, I decided to disregard the need for developable planks, and the constraint they place on hull shape. In order to achieve that freedom, I judged that I would need at least eight planks - instead of the five on the original design.
The lines of the "New" Phoenix III. Note that the curved black line at the bottom of the picture do not represent the other side of the boat - they are the developed shapes of the diagonals.
A very basic rendering of the hull shape
A very basic rendering of the hull shape
The new hull shape is pleasing to my eye, but when I ran some hydrostatic calculations and some hull resistance predictions, I discovered that the original boat was as good or better than the new one. Having discovered this, I reflected upon my egotistical thoughts, and decided to leave Phoenix III exactly as she was when I first drew her back in 2003.
I do have another embryonic design for a 15 foot boat, but she is not a replacement for Phoenix III. She is a different boat - heavier, beamier, and with a layout similar to that used in Periwinkle. This boat is derived from a 17 foot hull I have in the works, but shorter by two feet, and about 3 or 4 inches less beamy. She also has very slightly less freeboard than the 17-footer. Don't hold your breath waiting for these designs to be published, though...
Proposed 15ft x 5ft design
What really matters to me (and I am very biased about this) is that more "Sail and Oar" boats start populating our waterways. There is a wholesomeness, independence, and versatility wrapped up in the sail-and-oar movement, and I believe that such boats and the associated activity is good for the body and soul. Day-sailing, beach-cruising, rowing, picnicking, expeditioning - all carried out in something which you can make with your own hands, for relatively little money.
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