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In this new “Y-sterned” canoe, the well-known wood-and-canvas canoe builder Jerry Stelmok has taken a rock-solid design, the E.M. White 20-footer, and adapted it well for a broad range of uses. It can carry a small motor on its narrow transom, it can be rowed very successfully from two stations, it can be poled with ease, and, of course, it may be paddled. It can carry much gear and still handle well, which makes it ably suited for fishing, perhaps its best use. This boat may be built by those who have some boatbuilding experience, or it may be purchased as a finished boat from Stelmok.

Edward M. White was a superb canoe builder operating in central Maine in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. His wood-and-canvas canoes were and still are held in high esteem by many who use them. Contemporary canoe builder Jerry Stelmok, also from central Maine, whom many consider the dean of the modern-day wood-and-canvas canoe revival, builds boats to E.M. White designs. He builds this Y-sterned model by using his E.M. White 20′ canoe form and closing in the stern of the canoe above the waterline with a transom rather than a conventional stem. The stem, however, remains below the waterline (unlike a simple square-sterned canoe); the hull, therefore, moves through the water like a conventional canoe, with the added benefit of a transom.

Stelmok attaches the gunwales to the transom while the hull is on the form. Then the hull is pulled from the form in the usual manner and completed before canvasing. To build this boat in this manner, you must first build a labor-intensive form that gives the boat its shape and provides a backing for attaching planks to the steam-bent ribs. If you are lost at this point, this may not be the boat for you!

Island Falls Canoe

Unlike its square-sterned cousins, the West Branch canoe can carry a small motor on its transom while retaining the good paddling qualities of a double-ended canoe.

Stelmok has, in essence, substituted a transom for the conventional canoe end. His goal in doing so was to modify a well-proven canoe for low outboard power. He has put a 2-hp Honda four-stroke on it to great benefit, and says it will take a larger motor—but to the disadvantage of added weight. An electric motor would also work and would be quiet.

The idea for this boat, Stelmok says, came from similar although somewhat longer craft used by the salmon fishing community on New Brunswick and eastern Québec rivers. Rivers like the Restigouche and Miramichi have a uniform gradient and swift currents that make for fast descents and easily motorized ascents. So, a canoe with a small transom and small motor is a fine craft for fishing and navigating such rivers (on the Canadian rivers, both canoes and motors are somewhat larger). Stelmok refers to this canoe as his “West Branch” model, as it is so well suited to travel on that portion of Maine’s upper Penobscot River.

Stelmok typically equips the canoe with three seats—one in the stern from which the motor and associated gear can be managed, one amidships for rowing singly, and the third seat in the bow. From the bow seat one may: (a) fish if two people are fishing—two people may easily flyfish from this boat; (b) row if a second rowing station is equipped with oarlocks; (c) simply travel as a passenger.

This configuration of seat placement seems to be the best, although it makes it a better fishing than paddling canoe. It does paddle reasonably well, though, in part because the entry and exit lines of the canoe are nearly identical to a conventional canoe even though this boat has a transom.

Island Falls Canoe

The secret to the West Branch’s good paddling qualities lies below the waterline, where it’s a conventional canoe. Above the waterline, the topsides flare out to accommodate the transom.

Whereas the standard E.M. White 20-footer is 12 1⁄2″ deep and has a beam of 39″, Stelmok has stretched these dimensions a bit to improve its capabilities to carry a motor and fishing gear. He makes it 14″ deep and 42″ wide. Another small but significant and clever addition Stelmok adds are the spray rails. These are pieces of wood running longitudinally, nearly the length of the boat, and attached after the canoe has been canvased. Their purpose is to push splash from waves and chop away from the boat. Stelmok attaches spray rails to a variety of his boats and speaks highly of them. They make his Y-stern a much drier boat in windy conditions and on large lakes than it would be otherwise. In cross section the spray rails are roughly triangular.

Another excellent accessory in this boat is its floor rack. The rack consists of several slats of wood running longitudinally on the bottom of the inside of the canoe. Its purpose is to protect the ribs from the wear and tear of all the fishing gear, gas tank, etc. Gist: the floor rack takes the abuse, not the canoe (it can be removed for cleaning).

Canoes are reasonably long and sleek; they row reasonably well if rigged properly. Stelmok has taken advantage of this feature on the Y-stern by affixing a special “outrigger” oarlock near the middle seat. This outrigger was a 19th-century innovation and is currently sold for about $250 by the Shaw and Tenney Company (paddle and oar manufacturers of Orono, Maine). The outrigger oarlock flips outward when in use and back inboard when not. By flipping it outboard, one gains 3–4″ of width per oarlock, so when in use the oarlocks are about 48″ apart, an adequate width for rowing. Stelmok recommends 8′ oars (7 1⁄2-footers if the outrigger oarlock is not used) and generally uses those with spoon blades. The boat can be rigged with a second rowing station at the bow seat so two people could comfortably fish from this boat. And there would be ample room for all their gear.

Island Falls Canoe

Builder Jerry Stelmok poles the West Branch canoe through shallows. The 20′ E.M. White canoe, of which this boat is an adaptation, “has always been an exceptional poling boat,” says Stelmok. Note that oars are at the ready.

Stelmok’s boats are steeped in tradition and his craftsmanship is nothing short of superlative. The boat is canvas covered, the canvas filled and painted as is traditional for this sort of craft. It is then trimmed with either cherry or mahogany, which adds a lovely touch. Hardware (e.g., oarlocks) is generally bronze and the planking affixed to the ribs with brass tacks unless a customer anticipates saltwater use, in which case one should substitute copper tacks for brass.

Although Stelmok usually builds this boat as a 20-footer, it would work as an 18-footer, too. As a 20-footer, weighing between 110 and 130 lbs (depending on options and trim), it must be trailered, rather than cartopped.

Costs of building this boat would vary regionally and according to supply of basic materials like cedar for ribs and planking, etc. Stelmok has few problems finding good, clear stock in Maine and knows his mills and suppliers well. Whether one could be successful with suppliers in Nebraska or Algeria is open to debate.

The many capabilities of this special canoe make it an unusually attractive building project. But, beginners beware: You will need to start by building a form on which to build your canoe; then you must build a steambox in which to steam ribs for bending; and finally you must canvas your boat—not a job easily done well by beginners. But, if you are comfortable around a boatshop and all its tools, you’ll find this craft well worth the effort. The return (of pleasure) on the investment (of time) is an excellent ratio.

What a handsome craft this is to look at! The long, sweeping lines of the West Branch make it a delight to build, to be around, to show off, and to row, pole, motor, or paddle. If you have any concerns, though, about building this boat, you might consider taking a course with Stelmok, who teaches at WoodenBoat School in Brooklin, Maine.

In summary, this is an excellent, versatile, capable boat—an adaptation of a much-loved and highly respected design that is more than 100 years old. Although well-suited for fishing, it could have many uses. It is amply seaworthy for most lake and for gentle river travel. Go forth and build!

Cedar-and-canvas canoe construction is a laborious process at the setup stage; the building jigs are heavy and labor-intensive, and not ideal for one-off construction. But it’s rewarding, and readers wishing to learn more can read a multi-part series on the process in WoodenBoat magazine Nos. 141–143.

The West Branch Y-Stern Canoe is available from Island Falls Canoe for $6,900. Classes are available.

There seem to be two kinds of small daysailers. One kind keeps the water as far away from her crew as possible for her given size. These boats have high sides. The crew sits inside, to be insulated from the elements. I think of them as cozy, happy boats.

The other kind assumes that the crew will be more intimate with the water and puts them very close to it. The crews of these boats are in the action, and of the action, in close contact with wind and waves and boat. They’re an integral part of the workings of the structure. These boats have low sides, with lots of deck to keep the water out. I like all kinds of boats. But these are the exciting ones for anyone who loves sailing.

The Ipswich Bay 18 falls into the latter camp, though not so much that bathing suits are required. Like the Snipes, Comets, and Lightnings that I grew up with, she’s low-sided with lots of deck and a footwell rather than a cockpit with seats. That makes her lighter, of course, and easier to build. It also puts her crew close to wind and waves, which makes even a short evening sail on a small lake feel like a vacation.

Photo by Vernon Doucette

The Ipswich Bay 18 is a decked sailing dory reminiscent of the small racing boats of the Massachusetts North Shore of the first half of the 20th century.

Small boats like this seem so simple. But, of course, the simplest boats are the hardest to design and the easiest to get wrong. The IB 18 worked out just fine. She sails with great drama but little worry, depending on your mood. She’s essentially a short, flat-bottomed scow—only 12 1⁄2′ waterline length—with a long, broad, overhanging stern and a longer spoon bow. The broad, flat stern gives her all kinds of stability and makes her somewhat more forgiving of fore-and-aft trim (though you want to be careful of dragging the transom), and the long bow keeps her dry and buoyant and provides her a reasonable turn of speed. These kinds of boats used to be fairly common among development race classes, including the Massachusetts Bay waterline classes on the North Shore. Those boats provided much of the inspiration for Dan Noyes when he designed the IB 18. There’s also a little Alden Indian (a highly refined one-design dory) in her sheerline and some Town Class (another decked dory, still popular in Marblehead) in her hull shape. Dan Noyes would like to see her become a new North Shore one-design class.

The family resemblance to all these boats, especially the waterline classes, bodes well for the IB 18. The early North Shore racing boats also grew into a whole series of Inland Lake Scows, though they have squared-off bows. Boats like this can be very fast; I remember water-skiing behind a 28′ E-scow in a lake in northern Michigan when I was 11 or so. Dan Noyes reports that the IB 18 planes easily in a breeze. That’s easy to believe, and I look forward to getting her out soon in more than the 8–10 knots that I had to play with.

Photo by Vernon Doucette

The IB 18 is, essentially, a flat-bottomed scow-shaped hull with firm, round bilges. She’ll lean on those bilges in a breeze, giving the boat good stability.

Even in the light breeze I had, she was great fun. She has lots of sail area in a huge main on a 21′ mast and a very small jib, 145 sq ft in all, on a hull that weighs 360 lbs. But the main’s not so large that the sheet is ever hard to handle: ease it a fraction of an inch at a time to depower, or drag it in under the snubbing cleat on the centerboard trunk for a little more action—and the jib, sheeted to open cam cleats, can be handled almost as an afterthought. With her wide decks there’s nothing in the way. Lie down if that’s the mood of the afternoon, or rig hiking straps and get your weight outboard and power her up.

With little distance between centerboard and balanced rudder, and her flat bottom, she spins within her length, but still steers easily and precisely. Just a thumb and forefinger are needed on the hiking stick—very sporty. Yet surprisingly, she tracks quite well, enough so that the tiller can be clamped under a buttock to leave both hands free.

Alone, in 6–8 knots of air, hiked out flat and main fully powered up, you can get moving fast with her rail almost down, her centerboard trunk spitting just a little, and her stern wave just starting to separate from the transom. She sails like a thoroughbred. But you don’t have to work that hard. Ease the sheet just a fraction and relax. Few boats are this versatile. Part of the versatility comes from the weight of the hull, coupled with her flat and heavy bottom. The boat is heavy enough that she reacts slowly to crew weight. She nods rather than lurches when a person walks around on her decks. She weighs about double what a full-grown crew member might weigh. That means the crew contribute to her motion—or stability—instead of dominate it. With two people on board and an 8–10 knot breeze, I doubt that anyone would have to worry about spilling beer on the deck. The first reef would go in at about 12–15 knots of air. But in any kind of a real breeze, given appropriate sea conditions, I doubt she’d ever make a reasonably experienced crew nervous.

In a chop, I suspect she’d be fastest to windward heeled well over, like a scow. With her broad beam, it doesn’t take much heel to start her centerboard coming out of the water. If I were to have an IB 18, I might consider bilge boards instead of a centerboard to keep more foil in the water at a greater angle of heel. That would get the centerboard out of the way of the crew, too. It would also be tempting to put the rudder (or rudders, if we gave in to bilge boards) in a trunk. That would make building the boat harder, but launching and trailering easier and safer.

Photo by Vernon Doucette

The wide side decks and footwell cockpit allow for quick hiking in a gust. This is an exciting solo boat that can carry two or three passengers, too.

Although the IB 18 looks like she’s all deck, the footwell is over 6′ long, and plenty wide enough to keep from banging knees with the person sitting opposite. I’ve always found wide decks like this very comfortable, with lots of lounging space, room to walk around during a longer sail, plenty of space under deck for dry stowage. On quiet days, canoe seats can provide back support; on more exciting days there’s nothing to get in the way of hiking.

Daniel Noyes is an industrial designer by training. He understands the art of matching structure to function, and the importance of making the building process fit the end product. He also understands boats. He spent summers in college working in aerospace composite materials, including vacuum-bagging foam-cored high-performance daysailers and raceboats. But he loves traditional boats as well. He put in six years building dories at the Lowell Boat Shop, and at the Pert Lowell Company—state-of-the-art industrial production shops in their day—before designing and building the IB 18.

Impressed with the logic and simplicity of dory building techniques, Noyes adapted them to the wood-composite hull. Dories are production-built boats. The IB 18 was developed to make it faster for a professional to build a series of hulls, or easier for a reasonably experienced home builder.

Photo by Vernon Doucette

Close to the water. Author Dan Segal, at the helm, says the IB 18 reminds him of such noted one designs as the Comet, Snipe, and Lightning.

Being “dory built,” the boat requires no full-sized lofting. Instead, patterns and a batten are used. All the hull molds share the same pattern, and the same 12 1⁄2-degree radius, and all the topside planks are ripped to the same 3-degree bevel. The hull is built upright on a strongback using pre-cut temporary half-molds to lay the planking against. Noyes says that it took him about an hour to cut out the sixteen molds needed.

As one would expect, the IB 18 is an interesting mix of traditional and more modern materials. The bottom is 3⁄4″ marine plywood. The topsides are strip-planked cedar. The deck, 3⁄8-inch marine ply, is canvas covered and painted, just like those boats I grew up with. Unlike those boats, there are plywood bulkheads bow and stern to create flotation tanks.

She is built from the bottom up. Half-widths are marked on the plywood, and the side shape faired with the batten. The temporary half-molds are overlapped and placed port and starboard to the edge of the bottom, then bolted in place. The transom and stem are hung. The bottom is bent to the predetermined rocker on the strongback (called a bed in the dory world). The planks are hung from the garboard up and epoxy glued. The bulkheads are added to the open hull, then sheer clamps, deck beams, and the centerboard trunk. Next the plywood deck is cut out, nailed and glued down, and epoxy-coated. The deck edge is then trimmed, in the standard manner. Noyes will sell finished boats, hulls, or parts. He also has building plans and pattern tracings available for amateur construction.

The Ipswich Bay 18 is built of plywood and cedar strips— materials readily available to the amateur builder. The boat will ride easily on a trailer, and will be easily stored in a modest garage.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. If you have more information about this boat, plan or design – please let us know in the comment section.

Walter Baron, of Old Wharf Dory Co., designed the Lumber Yard Skiff (LYS) with commercial watermen in mind. It had to be simple, easy, and quick to build, and rugged enough to live at least 10 years in constant hard employ. He would build it of readily available materials—underlayment plywood for the topsides and bottom, clear spruce 44s for the stem and sternposts, and any suitable hardwood for the rails and shoes. Baron has since discovered that skiffs built with these materials have lived longer than he anticipated—and have done so without the benefit of coating the wood with epoxy. Paint on the outside, oil on the inside has been the rule, though some owners have had the outside fiberglassed.

He offers a 16′ standard LYS, a 16′ LYS Sport, and a 20′ LYS—plans or completed boats—and now prefers meranti marine plywood for the topsides and bottom and clear fir for the frames. He fastens the boats with stainless-steel screws and Sikaflex marine adhesive.

Baron, who’s been building boats for about 30 years, can knock together a LYS in about 40 hours, if he needs to hurry. A rank amateur with basic woodworking skills might double that time. When he’s finished, he’ll think that every minute was well spent, because the boat probably will exceed his expectations. Like most simple designs, especially ones that are easy to build, the LYS required more thought than we imagine. Baron took his inspiration from the Brockway skiffs, which were built by Earle Brockway in Old Saybrook, Connecticut, and well regarded along the coast from Connecticut eastward through Cape Cod.

Photo Courtesy of Old Wharf Dory Co.

Walter Baron’s Lumber Yard Skiff is so-named because its materials can be procured from local lumberyards. The boat is rugged, inexpensive, stable, and meant for a variety of purposes—from fishing to recreation.

“I designed these boats using plywood models built to scale,” Baron said. “The sheer is the hardest part.” Even workboats should be attractive, so Baron took great care in getting the sheerline just right. Drawing an attractive sheer on a flat-bottomed boat isn’t the problem here. Having that sheer look right in three dimensions is another thing altogether—they can get all wonky. Baron solved this problem by making a model.

Working on the theory that wood—even plywood— will take its natural course when you bend it around a specific point, Baron established the shape of the topsides and the bottom at the same time. He wanted a fine entry so the skiff would provide a decent ride in a chop, and he wanted substantial beam aft to make it stable for hauling traps and to reduce the influence that shifting weight has on her handling. With these criteria in mind, he located the point of maximum beam well aft. A moderate delta shape is the result.

After he bent the plywood topsides to the shape he wanted, he had to determine the arc he’d have to cut into the topside panels, as they lie flat on the floor of the shop, to permit a gently rockered flat bottom. One way to do this is to scribe a straight line, bow-to-stern, on the topside panels when they’re bent around the spreader. This line will be perfectly parallel to a level floor The rocker (longitudinal curvature) can then be added. Cutting along this line gives the panel the exact arc it needs to fit the bottom to the LYS. After Baron was satisfied with the shape of the boat, he enlarged his tracings onto full-sized ply- wood sheets—two 1⁄2″ sheets per side on the 16-footer, and two-and-a-half 3⁄4″ sheets per side for the 20-footer. Baron uses butt blocks to make panels of the appropriate length. He got the stem and two sternposts from a single 12′ fir 4 4, the bevels of which he’d determined from building the model. Baron made the transom from two pieces of 3⁄4″ meranti.

Construction starts with the components assembled bottom-up. The stem and sternposts act as the buildingjig. You don’t need a strongback. Simply fasten the side panels to the stem and sternposts, install the transom, and insert the spreader. You’ll need a Spanish windlass to draw the topsides together, especially at the stem. Baron said that installing the chine logs is the most difficult part of the process, because bending them into the shape described by the curve of the topsides can crack the wood. Baron has varied the thickness of the chine logs to ease this process. His instructions will help you decide the proper dimensions.

After you’ve installed the chine logs, you’re ready to fit the bottom. Lay the plywood sheets in place and trace their shapes along the outside. Cut to the lines, join the pieces with a butt block, and the bottom is ready to install. Fit the hardwood shoes to the bottom, turn over the boat, and install the frames, knees, and rails. You’ll cut the side frames from 2″ X 8″ clear fir and the rails from 5⁄4″ X 3″ Brazilian redwood or other suitable hardwood.

Courtesy of Old Wharf Dory Co.

Construction is simple and straightforward; here, the after ends of the side panels have just been cinched in tight to the transom and fastened.

Of the 150 or so skiffs Baron has built, some of them have side decks and some don’t, depending on each owner’s preference. Side decks definitely add class to the overall design, especially if you varnish the coamings and rails or paint them a contrasting color. Clam diggers seem to prefer a deck, because it gives them a relatively stable platform on which to rest their buckets.

Side decks or not, the LYS has an unmistakable personality—a presence on the water that begs for attention. Baron and I got together for a short run aboard a 20′ LYS that’s owned and used heavily by a clam digger who works one of the plots granted to local watermen to raise and harvest clams. Moored bow-to in a slip at Wellfleet Harbor, proud bow standing clear of her “modern” plastic companions, she left no doubts about her purpose. Like most things designed around a function—the original Austin Mini of 1959, for example—the LYS gets under your skin. “What a cool boat,” I said to Baron.

Courtesy of Old Wharf Dory Co.

The plywood hull has been fiberglassed and inverted, and is being given side decks.

Her cockpit is nearly 21⁄2′ deep and makes a person feel safe. As I climbed aboard, I stood for a moment on the side deck. The LYS curtsied slightly and then rose to her level stance. Her flat bottom made short work of damping that tiny bit of roll there in the slip, and later in the confused seas and motorboat wakes of the outer harbor she proved to be equally adept.

Although the LYS is perfectly content at displacement speeds, she planes at about 12 knots and will stay on plane at about 10 as you back off the throttle. A 75-hp Tohatsu outboard powered my ride and could push her along at 20 knots or more in flat water. In the washing-machine conditions we experienced, exceeding 15 knots seemed foolish. As you can imagine, a flat-bottomed boat pounds in the rough stuff if you don’t slow down. On the other hand, the ride of the LY S 20 was good for her type. In the turns at speed, she leans in the way a V-bottomed boat does, just not as steeply. If you shift a substantial amount of weight to one side or the other, she will carve a turn on her chine the way a West Greenland kayak does.

Though I saw her only in photos, the LYS Sport 16 would be my choice if I ever decided to build a boat. Dressed up in a varnished mahogany steering console, bright rails and cockpit coaming, and with side decks and a relatively large foredeck (kind of an extension of the breasthook), she’s fit to carry her skipper and mate to the yacht club for dinner. On this model, Baron narrowed the transom a bit, which gave the LY S Sport a 4.5″ rocker (the standard 16 has a rocker of 2.74″ ). The bow is a little higher, too, and the package just seems more elegant. Baron charges $8,950 (less motor and trailer) for a fancy Sport 16. The bare hull is $3,250; plans are $50. A bare hull for the standard 16 sells for $2,650, and the bare 20 for $3,850. Plans for these are also $50.

Courtesy of Old Wharf Dory Co.

The completed skiff can be operated with simple steering, or a console can be added (see previous page).

I don’t know where you’d find such versatile, able, and handsome boats for less money spent on materials or less time spent building. The price of a new outboard—70 hp maximum for the LY S 20 with console steering, 50 hp for a tiller-steered 20; 30 hp for a tiller-or console-model LY S 16—will far exceed the price of the boat, even if you pay yourself at $50/hour shop time. Each model’s flat bottom and reasonable weight ease trailering, launching, and retrieving. The clam digger who loaned us his boat told me that he’s carried as much as 2,000 lbs of clams aboard his 20-footer. Other commercial users have related similar tales of exceptional payload, so you shouldn’t worry if you want to transport a crowd of family and friends to an island for a picnic. The LYS can handle it— and a whole lot of other jobs as well. When it wears out, take a chainsaw to it and build another one—you’ll still be ahead of the game.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. Plans for the LYS are available from Old Wharf Dory.

Take a shapely traditional boat, add an artist’s eye and a practical touch, update it for the way we live now, and you may have found tomorrow’s classic. This is the case for Iain Oughtred’s Acorn skiff. More than that, the design worked so well that it became a turning point for the creator’s career. Now in its seventh refinement, the Acorn, in its various sizes, remains one of Oughtred’s most popular designs. Acorns can be found from Oughtred’s native Australia to his adopted Britain, and from the West Coast of the United States to the East Coast, where its workboat roots are found. It will, no doubt, continue to be built for years to come.

Back when Oughtred first designed the boat in the early 1980s, he also compiled an annotated directory of wooden boat builders in Britain, finding some 300 around the country struggling with precious little encouragement. The directory and the boat helped raise awareness of wooden boats there. Maynard Bray, writing in WB No. 56, described the Acorn as an ideal lapstrake plywood boat for an amateur to build, “a sweet-lined, slippery little jewel.” The magazine also described her construction and has sold her plans ever since. “It gave me the funds and encouragement to continue [designing] when I might have stopped,” Oughtred reminisced.

The traditional type on which the Acorn is based is the Whitehall, which takes its name from Whitehall Street in New York City, where former Navy apprentices started building the type in the 1820s in the same general shape as pulling gigs or wherries. These boats had long, sharp bows, plank keels, rising floors, slack bilges, and flaring sides. “The after sections were slightly hollow at the garboards, and the transom was heart shaped,” historian Howard Chapelle wrote. Soon, they were built as stock boats and used by many people needing to move about America’s harbors, including ships’ chandlers, insurance adjusters, and pilots—and also for sailors going ashore to boarding houses and brothels. They rowed well and were sometimes sailed.

Photo by Kathy Mansfield

Designer Iain Oughtred’s Acorn 13 has evolved from a series of designs, starting with a 7′ 10″ dinghy. With his 11′ 8″ Acorn, he used a finer hull for rowing and sailing, and the 13′ version of the Acorn is simply the 11′ 8″ version stretched by spacing the construction molds a little wider.

Inspired by the refined Whitehall shape, Oughtred gave the Acorn skiff a clean entry, rounded bilges, a classic sheerline with beautifully tapered planks, and a wineglass transom. The shape of the sheer, with its low freeboard, provides two comfortable rowing positions, and the boat’s narrow waterline beam and lean hull sections aft under the transom’s curves give her good directional stability and a good turn of speed under oars.

By using epoxies and modern building methods, Oughtred’s plans stipulated very light construction. The lapped joints of her plywood strakes, when glued together, act like stringers, stiffening the hull longitudinally. With eight strakes per side and no frames or stringers, she’s light enough to be lifted on top of a car and transported. The knees and floors are laminated, so no steam-bending is necessary. Oughtred first designed an 11′ 8″ version, primarily as a rowing boat. With the Acorn 13, which is set up for both sailing and rowing, the forefoot is a little deeper and the transom smaller, and any loss in buoyancy aft is made up by having a longer boat where passengers can spread out. The designed building frame has been raised slightly, with molds shifted farther apart, making the building process easier, with just seven strakes a side. The plans, much revised, now include full-sized mold patterns so no lofting needs to be done. The beautifully drawn seven sheets of plans also give hull lines, a table of offsets, construction plans, sail plans, spar and rigging details, and drawings for both straight-and spoon-bladed oars. Detailed instructions and notes are included.

Oughtred suggests a nominal 1⁄4″ plywood for the hull, using okoume with mahogany or other hardwood outer veneers, or perhaps solid mahogany if a tougher hull is required. She can also be traditionally built, strip-planked, or cold-molded. Much of the complexity of a traditional boat has been cut out: she takes about 160 hours for an experienced person to build, with an additional 30 hours for the sailing version’s spars, daggerboard and trunk, and rudder.

I first saw an Acorn 13 skiff in Scotland, near Inverary on the banks of Loch Fyne, on a day when the blues and greens of the mountains shaded down to iridescent hues on the loch, and the water lapped on the pebbles of the beach across from a castle. A sailing skiff seemed to waft along on no breeze at all, and there was a spontaneous movement of people walking down from the lochside pub to have a look. The talk seemed to turn from boat construction to whisky, and it was only later that I learned that the boat had been built by students and Oughtred had fitted her out himself, making the floorboards, thwarts, spars, and other fittings from a very close-grained Douglas-fir that in its earlier life had been used to hold whisky in a Scottish distillery. Its golden color was perhaps partly the long, slow maturing of wood and whisky together.

Photo by Kathy Mansfield

Plywood lapstrake construction not only makes the boat lightweight buy also keeps the interior uncluttered and easy to clean.

The boat, named HOOLET, Gaelic for a little owl, looked perfectly at home on a loch, and her elegant, classic rig also packed in plenty of traditional detail. There were adjustable parrel beads on the jaws of her gunter spar, and the halyard and downhaul lines led down to belaying pins set in forward thwart, which supported the mast. I’d used belaying pins on a schooner and a medieval replica, but I found they worked fine on small skiffs, too.

The rudder fitted and lifted quickly, leaving a single-hander time to concentrate on the daggerboard in shallow waters: we were to find that very useful in a strong wind. But for the moment, there was little breeze, and even though four of us piled into a boat built for three, we ghosted along nicely, slipping past becalmed yachts and tacking almost under a bagpipe band playing on Inverary’s pier. With a sail area of 48 sq ft, she’s probably a bit overcanvased, but we were happy to have that extra power. She would have slipped along beautifully singlehanded. Her long, narrow waterline gave good directional stability but meant it was best not to put the helm over too quickly or too far when tacking, rather like her traditional forebears. There are several rigs to choose from in Iain’s designs: gunter, spritsail, and standing lug. All are fun to use and no doubt give the boat different sailing performances and characters.

There was another chance to sail HOOLET, this time after a night of rain and with a gale forecast for later in the day on the boisterous west coast of Scotland near Loch Melfort. First, I rowed her. She pulls beautifully, as mannered and elegant as the finest Thames skiff from farther south, quickly picking up speed and maneuvering neatly. But it would be a pity never to sail this boat. She can be well behaved with a small sail, a reef, or an extra passenger, but she came alive as we rounded the point into a very stiff breeze. She also proved Maynard Bray’s comment about the original Acorn skiff: “Make no mistake—she is neither particularly stable nor particularly burdensome. If you’re looking for a boat that you and your passengers can clomp around in, stay away from this one.” Oughtred suggested she’d suit retired Moth skippers in a good wind. Her round bilge meant that she was less stable when boarding her, but now she was up and flying, steady and responsive as long as you remembered not to spin her but to sail her around in a tack. Her clean interior made moving about easy, the crew sitting forward of the centerboard trunk. Iain is himself an excellent sailor, and his boats are built to his standards.

Only once have I succumbed to the danger of writing about beautiful boats—the danger being, of course, falling for the boat you have described. It was all about Oughtred’s Acorn 13. The feeling starts with a deep longing, subjective comparisons with alternatives, and eventually the checkbook comes out as another boat is added to the family fleet. There is always an excuse—and in this case it was like buying a work of art that had a practical use. Our daughter happened to be along at Inverary and was just the age to covet the control of her own boat. Plus, we lived near a river, not a lake, so a good rowing skiff would be ideal for summer evenings after work, with sailing a weekend option. The gunter rig would be easy for lowering under bridges. And what a jewel of a boat it is….

The Acorn 13 has the Whitehall type’s fine ends below the waterline and a lovely wineglass-shaped transom. To make the 13-footer, the 11′ 8″ version’s construction molds are simply spaced more widely. Sprit, lug, and gunter sail plans are available, each with identical sail area.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. Plans are currently available from The WoodenBoat Store, P.O. Box 78, Brooklin, ME 04616; 800–273–7447; www.woodenboat.com.

Shearwater might well be the best all-round pulling boat at the WoodenBoat waterfront—at least she was, before we installed a centerboard trunk.

When Joel White drew this elegantly simple 16′ double-ender, he recalled the traditional boats of western Norway. (At first, he named the new design “Joelselver.”) The hull’s narrow breadth at the waterline permits a slender immersed shape. Above the water, Shearwater’s sides rake outward, which provides buoyancy and reserve stability for the able little boat. The strongly raked sides also produce sufficient breadth at the rails for efficient long oars. Deliberately low freeboard reduces windage, and wind is a persistent enemy of oarsmen. Shearwater makes good speed when pulled with moderate effort, and she carries (glides) well between strokes.

A slight touch of rocker (fore-and-aft curvature) to the keel gives maneuverability, but this skiff retains adequate directional stability. Shearwater can turn quickly, and yet she handles well in a following sea. Boats with dead-straight keels and sharp ends might get us to windward quickly, but they often transform into tripping and broaching monsters when we’re running off.

Photo by Benjamin Mendlowitz

Shearwater, shown here under oars with her push-pull tiller stored aboard, rows beautifully. Her rig might be considered auxiliary propulsion, while the oarsman is the primary engine.

This plywood-lapstrake skiff goes together easily. WoodenBoat School students built our boat in less than two days. The eight sheets of building plans include full-sized paper patterns for frames and other components. Lofting, that is re-creating the hull lines at full scale, is not required…but paper has a nasty habit of shrinking, stretching, and slipping. Unless you work in a climate-controlled shop, you might want to redraw the lines on the floor or on sheets of white-painted plywood.

The act of lofting is inexpensive, educational, and clean. Many of us consider it good fun. Perhaps most important, it allows us to build the boat in our minds before cutting into costly mahogany plywood. For a friendly primer on this subject, see the “Lofting Demystified” section of Greg Rössel’s book Building Small Boats (WoodenBoat Publications, 1998).

The hull’s strakes (three per side) hang on three laminated frames. This glued-lapstrake hull almost demands the use of epoxy as an adhesive—for its gap-filling properties as well as its strength. While the epoxy cures, we’ll temporarily secure the strakes with steel drywall screws driven through the laps along the entire length of the hull. Let’s not forget to remove these ferrous fastenings, and to fill the resulting holes, sometime before painting. Where the strakes cross each frame, we’ll employ bronze screws. These fastenings of eternal metal will remain in place for the life of the boat.

Joel White drew a standing lug rig to provide auxiliary propulsion for Shearwater. This simple arrangement offers low-centered, easily controlled power and short spars that can stow in the boat for trailering. Unlike most modern rigs, it requires no standing rigging (stays, usually of wire rope, that support the mast). We’ll need only a little store-bought hardware. Just two blocks (pulleys) are specified on the plans.

Photo by Benjamin Mendlowitz

Rigged for sail, Shearwater makes a handy camp-cruiser. The one shown here, a larger, deeper 18′ version of the original, explored islands in Maine in mid-August.

Take some care in sewing and setting the lugsail. It appreciates having sufficient draft (don’t cut it too flat), and it likes to have the halyard secured to the yard in just the right place. Casual experimentation during the first few sails should reveal the proper setup. Keep sufficient tension in the luff (the sail’s leading edge) by tightening the downhaul (a short line at the forward end of the boom). As the yard comes down at day’s end, it does so head-first. Grab hold of that stick before it takes aim at your head. Minor cautions aside, this rig seems reasonably tolerant of inattentive setup.

After we become accustomed to the Norwegian-style push-pull tiller, Shearwater sails fast and handles well in light and moderate air. As the breeze comes on, the helm gets heavy and the bow begins to punch through waves. It’s time to strike the rig. Joel knew well the foolishness of pressing a low, narrow, undecked skiff in strong winds. He viewed this skiff as a pulling boat, with auxiliary sailpower.

WoodenBoat’s Shearwater spent two years as a pure pulling boat. Then, yielding to temptation, we commissioned the addition of sailing gear. The resulting clutter of spars and the hydrodynamic drag caused by the centerboard trunk degraded the boat for rowing.

If we look at Shearwater’s bottom, the narrow slot into which the centerboard retracts appears harmless. In fact, it generates considerable drag. A long time ago, I rowed and sailed prototype fiberglass skiffs that had been laid up without gelcoat (the opaque, and often colorful, outer layer of pigmented resin seen on most ’glass boats). The translucent hulls allowed us to study water flow and wave formation as we looked out through the hulls while sailing—educational, and far more entertaining
than network television.

Photo by Benjamin Mendlowitz

Shearwater is a lithe, easily built adaptation of a traditional Norwegian design—the oselver, or Os estuary boat.

As the boats moved through the water, we observed extreme turbulence in the after ends of their centerboard trunks. When we’re rowing, energy to drive this undulating light show must come from us. Even the strongest man can produce, at full effort, but a fraction of the power available from wind or mechanical contrivance.

After we learned the magnitude of increased drag, sailors worried about loss of speed—even when they were not racing. Oarsmen begrudged wasting their limited energy. In order to reduce drag, we sometimes covered the offending slots with neoprene flaps secured with bronze half-round and screws. Today, I’m told that we might use Mylar tape (slit longitudinally with a sharp knife after being applied to the hull). Perhaps you’ll consider rigging your Shearwater only for rowing. We tampered with perfection and spoiled it.

Although she’s not big compared to other 16-footers, this boat has plenty of room for solitary beach cruising. We’ll row through the morning calm and sail on the afternoon’s breeze. When we hit the beach, we can roll or drag the 150-lb cruiser up and away from danger. After supper, we’ll lift out the thwarts, and the floorboards will make for a comfortable bed. If we’ve rowed a long stretch at a fair pace, sleep should come easily.

Shearwater’s glued-plywood construction will withstand drysailing more handily than her solid wood cousins. She’s lighter, too, making for a more nimble recreational craft.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. Plans are available from the WoodenBoat Store for $75 (as of 2022).

In the 1950s, Howard Chapelle drew an 18′ sharpie power skiff. He called her Campskiff. She was designed for the low-powered 5–10-hp outboard motors of the day and was intended to take her crew into the backwaters and creeks of the Eastern estuaries. For her hull planking, Chapelle called for 1⁄2″ cedar or mahogany. The bottom was planked with the same material, but was a full 7⁄ 8″ thick. For ward, the lines drawings show a full hull and a stem that just settles in at the waterline. Her proportions are nearly perfect.

Some 30 years later, designer Karl Stambaugh revisited the design, and the resulting Redwing captured the intent and all of the grace of the earlier sharpie. A close study of the two boats shows some well-thought-out improvements. With a LOA of 18′ 6″ and a beam of 6′ 6″, Redwing is bigger than Campskiff. She also has more freeboard and a finer entry. From any angle Redwing’s sheer is lovely, which is no easy feat for a flat-bottomed skiff. The house, motor well, and gracefully curved coaming complement the hull shape and add greatly to the boat’s appeal and function. The designer points out that Redwing is a light boat, 850 lbs, but she will carry heavy loads. With a motor, fuel, and batteries aft in the well and crew sprawled out in the cockpit, it will be necessary to place ballast forward, maybe several hundred pounds of it, depending on what gear is aboard, in order to trim the hull. The bottom of the stem should ride just below the waterline when the boat is at rest. Thus trimmed, handling in tight quarters even with a breeze up should be fine.

Photo by Bill Thomas

Karl Stambaugh’s REDWING 18 is a plywood boat based on a Howard Chapelle design of traditional construction. Stambaugh designed his version “to make her easier to build while keeping the traditional appearance of the Chapelle design.”

Stambaugh’s Redwing is built of plywood. The first boats to this design were assembled “glue-and-screw” fashion; a “stitch-and-glue” version was later drawn. If you build stitch-and-glue, you might find the relatively quick assembly time and the bombproof filleted joints are worth the hassle of working with all that epoxy and filler. Once the hull is finished, the lion’s share of the remaining work is “traditional” plywood boat building. It’s fun stuff.

Marine-grade okoume is a near-perfect material for this type of hull. The boat’s sides are built of 12mm plywood and the bottom is created from two layers of the same material. The outside is sheathed in ’glass set in epoxy, and the results are strong and tight—just the thing needed for a cruiser that might live on a trailer. The side planks come together at a beefy, solid-wood stem. The house and deck, like the hull, are built from 12mm plywood. The deck is sheathed with Dynel cloth set in epoxy, but the weave is not filled. This makes for a strong, watertight finish that mimics the appearance of a canvas deck but requires little maintenance; and it won’t leak. The cockpit has wide seats curved to match the hull’s shape. These, coupled with high coamings, offer great comfort and space to spread out and relax while underway or tucked in for the night.

Photo by Bill Thomas

Redwing might be the ultimate gunkholer. She’s designed for exploring thin and narrow waterways—places too tight for a sailboat to tack. At the end of the day, she provides ample camp-style accommodations.

Stambaugh has worked up a simple, electric propulsion system for Redwing. A small, stock 2-hp electric motor, the kind designed to be bolted to a cavitation plate, is mounted in the motorwell and driven by batteries stored forward, under the berth. With the exception of the custom-fabricated mounting bracket for the motor, all the components are off-the-shelf items. As configured, the range is about 40 miles at a leisurely 3 knots, which is a perfect speed for exploring creeks, small inland lakes, or quiet backwaters.

Most builders will probably choose to power Redwing with an outboard motor nestled in the sound-insulated motorwell. A 9.9 four-stroke is ideal, but a smaller engine will serve. One of the advantages of the 10-hp engine is that most come with electric start and a small trickle charge alternator. Steering harnesses that work with these engines are stock items, a real plus for the builder. At about two-thirds throttle, Redwing will move quietly though the water at 6+ knots and burn a half gallon of fuel per hour. On a boat as uncomplicated as Redwing, I’d keep the systems simple. A well-maintained outboard, one battery, running lights, and (just in case) an electric bilge pump are about all the complication Redwing or her crew should have to endure.

Photo by Bill Thomas

Designer Stambaugh estimates the materials cost for a Redwing 18 at about $5,000 (not including power). This figure assumes high-quality materials and finish.

Another place to avoid complication is with the cabin layout. There is a lot of room to get creative with the arrangements on an 18′ boat, but on Redwing there is room for a full-sized and comfortable V-berth, a head tucked under a seat, a fair-sized galley flat, and plenty of organized storage. Stambaugh has drawn a hard dodger for Redwing that blends in perfectly. It extends over the companionway and runs aft to the motorwell, fully sheltering the cockpit from rain and sun, without blocking the helmsman’s view or stifling the breeze while at anchor. As drawn, this awning complements the boat nicely, turns the cockpit into a living space, and can be removed easily and stored ashore if it’s not needed.

It’s the contemplated voyages in Redwing that really capture my imagination. Though designed for sheltered waters, she is capable of dealing with moderate wind and chop. Watch the weather and plan carefully and, as with any boat, be aware of her limitations. That said, I have seen Redwings along the coast of the Carolinas and on Georgia’s south coast, the Sacramento River Delta, and on Chesapeake Bay. I know of one being built in southern Maine, and I’ve seen one on Lake Michigan—trailered in from some landlocked state. The possibilities along the Florida coast alone seem limitless. Thanks in part to their shallow draft of 1′ 0″, these boats can and do get around.

Photo by Bill Thomas

The motor lives in an enclosed box, and is nearly silent. Cruising speed is about 6-9 knots, depending on choice of power.

Suitable cruising grounds abound, and if they lie far from home, a midsize car has plenty of muscle to get the boat, her gear, and her crew to the water. Redwing offers plenty of adventure in a manageable package. Keep the gear simple: a stove that can be used below on the galley flat or moved to a cockpit seat, a dishpan for a sink, and a cooler make a fine galley. I think I’d replace the V-berths with a large berth flat, which offers more sprawling room. When such a flat is outfitted with fold-up seat backs, it provides comfortable seating below. If you cruise in cool environments, there is room for a small wood heater to chase away any dampness and to boil the morning coffee. For adequate ventilation, there should be at least four opening ports in the cabin sides. Two small bronze opening ports mounted in the forward end of the house might also be welcome in warmer climates.

Photo by Bill Thomas

At only 850 lbs, Redwing is of an ideal weight to tow behind an average car. But she’s also capacious, and will carry a couple and their gear on an expedition.

Redwing works in so many ways. She is not a big boat, but she does offer the trailer-bound boater a literal (and littoral) world of options. She is economical to build and almost miserly in her fuel consumption. She is comfortable in a simple, uncomplicated way and easy to maintain. Owning a boat like Redwing would, I think, prove to be a joy and not a burden.

Plans for Redwing 18 include nine sheets, and the construction specifications include both glue-and-screw and stitch-and-glue. A full-sized frame plan is also available.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. If you have more information about this boat, plan or design – please let us know in the comment section.

Bill Hayward loves to explore rivers. His method for For the design of this boat, it is hard to believe that doing so involves the use of efficient and environmentally responsible propulsion, and his favored designer is Paul Gartside of Sidney, British Columbia. His first collaboration with Gartside was a 20′ pedal-powered boat, which he took on an 18-month journey from Alberta to the Gulf of Mexico, up the East Coast, into the Hudson River, then on to the St. Lawrence River and finally to Halifax, Nova Scotia. For his most recent voyaging boat— WAYWARD—he resorted to the use of an engine-powered 24′ 3″ hull that is also the result of a collaboration between owner and designer. Hayward wanted a boat for a journey through some of the rivers of the United States and eventually for a cruise on the canals of Europe. As of this writing, Bill had taken the new boat on the upper Mississippi from St. Paul, Minnesota, to St. Louis, Missouri. From there he traveled up the Illinois River to Chicago and into Lake Michigan. An overland trip by trailer took the boat to Halifax. The canals of Europe still beckon.

Photo by Wyatt Lawrence

An easily driven hull needn’t be unattractive, as designer Paul Gartside has proved with WAYWARD, which relies on a 25-hp outboard for propulsion.

For the design of this boat, it is hard to believe that Hayward could have done better than to choose his friend Gartside. The designer and builder, who emigrated from Cornwall, England, to Sidney, turns out one lovely design after another. A visit to Gartside’s web site will give you some idea of the scope of his work, his attention to detail, and an extensive lesson in boatbuilding. Under “frequently asked questions,” for example, you will learn what books he recommends and you can read his detailed information on boring shaft holes, installing shaft tubes, strip and lapstrake planking, and leathering oars.

From the beginning, the dream and the reality of this boat had what this writer feels is an advantage over the majority of powerboats on the water today. The owner recognized the advantage of designing for displacement speeds. It is quite possible that the Earth’s atmosphere cannot support healthy human beings with the present level of pollutants being dumped into it. Our increasing use of fossil fuels for pleasure puts an ironic twist on the literal meaning of recreation. By traveling at 6 or 7 knots rather than at planing speeds, Hayward will easily double his mileage and thus cut his boat’s level of polluting in half. He finds as well that noise is minimized and comfort is optimized at this modest cruising speed, and he seems to get there just as fast.

In my own campaign to promote modest power and speed in boats, I frequently hear the argument that equates speed with safety. Specifically, the owner wants a boat that can hightail it for the nearest shelter when a thunderstorm bears down on him. This may be a good plan for the crew of an overloaded aluminum johnboat, but the weatherwise skipper will not be caught by surprise. A well-designed boat will allow him to ride out a squall in complete safety if not absolute comfort. This boat and skipper can take care of themselves.

Photo by Wyatt Lawrence

Gartside’s client, Bill Hayward, favors cruising in inland waterways. He has already taken WAYWARD through the upper Midwest and was preparing to send her over to Europe for extended canal explorations.

With a length of 24′ 3″ and beam of 6′ 4″, WAYWARD is narrower than average. This contributes significantly to her efficiency, allowing her to be pushed easily with a 25-hp four-stroke motor. The trade-off is a bit more rolling in a beam sea. This, according to the owner, has been an entirely acceptable compromise, since she was not designed as an offshore boat.

The lines show a fine entry. She will not slap and pound as she works upwind. The lines aft show a good compromise between running straight to a deeply immersed transom, as in a true planing boat, and rising to meet the transom at the waterline, which is the ideal for slow-speed work. The slightly immersed transom is narrow and will not create significant drag, yet it will provide additional buoyancy to hold up the motor and straighten the lines enough to give an extra knot or two of top-end speed.

The skeg extends below the hull a generous 8″ aft. This seemingly simple addition will be a big help in directional stability, but it can be hard to get right. Powerboats steer by swinging their sterns to port or starboard. If the skeg is square-ended and close to the engine, it will feed turbulent water to the propeller, causing it to race in a tight turn. The designer has given a slant to the aft edge of the skeg and called for a taper as well. The owner reports no problems.

WAYWARD’s hull is planked with 5⁄8″ strips of Western red cedar and sheathed inside and out with 17-oz biaxial cloth set in epoxy resin. As long as every care is taken to assure that water cannot penetrate the sheathing, this construction technique will allow the round-bottomed hull to go together relatively quickly and economically. There is no framing as such. Floors, bulkheads, and joinery combine to stiffen the hull. Decks are 1⁄2″ plywood, and the housetop is laminated of three layers of red cedar, eliminating the need for beams. Windows are made of 1⁄4″ laminated safety glass.

Photo by Wyatt Lawrence

An enclosure keeps the four-stroke outboard out of sight, where its quiet operation won’t disturb the peace of a morning and where it won’t interrupt the lines of the hull.

A diesel inboard installation would have nearly doubled the mileage of this boat. It would be the best choice if efficiency were the only criterion, but the advantages of the outboard are significant. These include a considerably lower cost (particularly when the whole installation is considered), a quieter engine, and a more open cockpit arrangement. Diesel fuel is not always easy to find, especially when cruising inland waters.

A motorwell is always more complicated to build than an open-transom installation. One reward is quiet operation, and I’ll bet you can hear the bow wave as easily as the motor. Also, the well at least partially hides that big gob of technology perched on the stern. Motors ought to be tilted up when the boat is moored, in order to avoid marine growth in the cooling passages, and this is especially true in salt water. Failure to do so can result in expensive repairs. Unfortunately, WAYWARD’s engine rises when tilted, and the cover that encloses the tilted engine will be a big presence. The owner felt that the top section of the enclosure did not fit with the sleek lines of the hull and cabin, so he removed it.

Motors in wells often suffer from poor ventilation, causing them to stall, particularly when shifting at idle speed. When the boat is moving forward, exhaust through the propeller hub is carried quickly astern, but at idle speeds or in reverse, fumes can fill the enclosure. The designer has provided a vent hatch at the forward face of the well, a simple solution should this problem occur.

A low profile usually not only makes a boat better-looking but also reduces windage, so there is no attempt here to gain standing headroom under the shelter. A sliding hatch allows the crew to stand up while cooking. Steering is by either of two sticks linked together along the starboard side, one under the shelter and one outside. The preferred steering station is the after one, with the helmsman standing on a raised section of the cockpit floor. Stick steering is not quite as intuitive as wheel steering, but it has the big advantage (especially in a narrow hull) of taking up considerably less space.

Photo by Wyatt Lawrence

WAYWARD’s cockpit is well thought out for direct contact with the surroundings, and yet protection from the elements. Her accommodations are simplicity itself.

In the cockpit, four stanchions support an array of solar panels. The structure forms some shelter from the elements as well as convenient handholds in rough going. The owner has added canvas and clear plastic panels to this fabrication, adding considerably to the protection it affords. The solar panels were not as necessary as was originally thought, as the engine’s charging system was able to provide most of the power needed to keep the batteries topped up.

Fuel tanks located under the cockpit seats are generous because of the boat’s intended use and give a range of 220 nautical miles.

The short, stout bowsprit for handling the anchor makes great sense, particularly for a singlehander. The anchor can be set and retrieved from the cockpit if necessary.

WAYWARD’s accommodations are basic, and that’s as it should be. Complicated systems add expense, weight, and the likelihood of time lost to repairs. She has a generous freshwater tank under the V-berths, and a holding tank under the cockpit seat. A sun-heated shower has been a great comfort.

There is plenty of room for singlehander Hayward’s needs, although a couple undertaking his ambitious voyage would want to be a good fit. WAYWARD should be great for weekending and for day trips, and the grandchildren could nap peacefully to the sound of the bow parting the waves.

We have been obsessed with fast powerboats for so long that good efficient designs are hard to find. WAYWARD is a good example of what promises to be an exciting new era as we adjust to new environmental priorities.

Any designer has to balance the owner’s intentions with his own sense of proportion and style—and Gartside delivers on both counts with WAYWARD. The cabin echoes his larger powerboat designs while remaining in proportion and appropriate to the use. Accommodations are all that’s required and no more. Above all, she’s an easily driven hull that will be economical and stylish at the same time.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. If you have more info about this boat, plan or design – please let us know in the comment section.

I’m sitting in my truck in a parking lot just off I-95 in Lewiston, Maine, awaiting the arrival of Ray Frechette, of Great Falls Boat Works, and his Core Sound 20. It’s a beautiful day—not a great deal of wind, it’s true, but the air is fresh after weeks of sticky humidity, and the sky is blue and full of the promise of an early fall. We are meeting here, before going down to the coast for an afternoon of sailing, because it is a mile or so from one of Ray’s garages, in which he has a Core Sound 17 that he wishes to show me; as he put it on the phone, “that way you’ll see the two boats and know that, really, they’re the same, just stretched.” I have seen pictures of the CS 20 on the designer’s web site, but when Ray pulls in off the road I am unprepared for the sweetness of her lines.

I have never been too keen on hard-chined hulls, considering them to have a tendency to slab-sidedness and flat sheers—all well and good on a flat-bottomed rowing skiff, but on a sailing boat? For today, my bias turns out to be ill-conceived: the Core Sound 20 has a sweet sheer, a gentle-radius curved deck, and, with her hull painted cream with contrasting red bottom paint and dark green covestripe, is anything but slab-sided.

Designed by Graham Byrnes, the Core Sound 17 was a development of his earlier Spindrift 10-footer and Bay River Skiff 17. The latter, inspired by the traditional work-ing skiffs of the Hatteras area in North Carolina, was conceived in the late 1980s as a “good utility boat that could be rowed, motored, and sailed. A boat that was rugged, yet not too heavy, and could be used for both line fishing and crab potting either commercially or for pleasure…. The bottom shape is a moderately shallow V form, with a shallow V running aft. This allowed very shallow draft without the inherent problems of flat-bottomed boats, such as pounding and poor directional stability.”

Photo by Jenny Bennett

The Core Sound 20 is easy to beach, and its centerboard trunk is offset to one side of the keel to prevent stones from wedging their way into the slot, where they can foul the board.

Then, in 1994, Byrnes was approached by a new client who wanted to sail a Bay River Skiff across parts of the Gulf of Mexico. Faced with the prospect of sending the boat out into “real blue water,” Byrnes decided to develop the design: “Skiffs, as a type, have the inherent tendency to produce boats that may be wet due to their low freeboard, straight stem, and flat bow sides…. The BRS is far drier than traditional skiffs [but] will take spray and tend to carve through a wave. The points of design [that were] kept [were] the ease of planing and stability downwind, as well as the cat-ketch rig.”

The resulting design had developed convex forward sections with a deeper V, which, being more buoyant than the skiff-type bow, “rides over waves and takes nicely to large bluewater conditions.” Furthermore, says the designer, “the higher freeboard and additional length in the foredeck, combined with full-length side decks, make this an extremely dry boat with exceptional load-carrying capacity.” The boat, launched in 1995, was named the Core Sound 17. In the ensuing 12 years, 200 plans have been sold, and at least 171 boats built.

Since then, the Core Sound has been both stretched and shrunk—to the 20 and the 15—but at all sizes, the premise has been the same: to create a simple, strong, load-carrying boat that can be towed on a trailer, rowed, motored, and is an especially good performer under sail. Growing up with racing skiffs in Australia, Graham Byrnes has little time for boats that do not sail well. “I don’t believe that amateur builders should be consigned to building little plodders; why design down for them? What’s the point in building a boat if all you end up with is something that goes out on the water and just ‘sits’ there? You want a boat that’s going to look good and be safe, but that’s going to actually go somewhere.” In this last respect both the Core Sounds have proven themselves time and again—perhaps nowhere better than in the Everglades Challenge races in Florida Bay when, in 2005 and 2006, the designer beat all comers in his Core Sound 17 (by more than eight hours in 2006); in 2007, in a one-off Everglades Challenge (EC) 22, he shattered the record by a further nine hours.

Photo by Jenny Bennett

The cat-ketch rig is simple and efficient, with no standing rigging. The sprit-booms fitted to each sail are well clear of the crew during tacks and provide excellent control on all points of sail.

The boats are light—with rig, the 17-footer weighs as little as 350 lbs, and the 20-footer, 500 lbs—and achieve respectable speeds in very light airs; but, thanks to their hull design, they are also remarkably stable and capable of carrying full sail in 25-knot winds. At hull speed, the 20 races along at 6 knots, but it will plane in as little as 10 knots of wind and has been recorded doing 12 knots.

Ray Frechette has been building glued plywood boats for many years. By the time Byrnes won the Everglades Challenge, he had already built a couple of Core Sounds. Anticipating more interest after the sensational victory, Ray asked Byrnes to design a building jig for him to speed up production. Last year he launched the first jig-built 17. She differs from her sisters slightly: Ray explains that Byrnes had “wanted to fine up the bow to give a drier boat when planing; he also altered the stern a bit to balance it. The downside is that with the finer bow you can only stow 8′ oars along the centerboard trunk and under the foredeck; in the earlier model you could get in 9′ oars, which are definitely a better length.” (Oars 9′ long can be accommodated by stowing them alongside the seats.)

Built not just for speed but also for day-sailing and camp-cruising, the Core Sounds have impressive storage space within the watertight side benches, beneath the foredeck, and aft between the transom and stern bulk- head. There is a place for everything and, in the 17 that Ray shows me, there are optional raised floorboards up for ward to give yet more (but not necessarily dry) storage space beneath, as well as a large sleeping platform. With an optional spray dodger-tent, the boat, despite its length of only 17′, would have ample space for two adults to take a weekend or even a week away.

Photo by Jenny Bennett

At between 500 and 600 lbs fully rigged, the Core Sound 20’s light weight and shoal draft make her an easy boat to launch from a trailer.

Having been introduced to both the 17 and the 20, I set off with Ray and his 15-year-old son, Josh, to go sailing. We head for the public launching ramp in Portland, Maine, and within 20 minutes of our arrival Ray has stepped the two aluminum masts, straightened out the running rigging (all the while apologizing that he has not yet rigged this particular boat with “jiffy” rigging), bent the sails on to the mast tracks and sprits, and we are ready to launch. There is still little wind, and I am secretly anticipating an afternoon of drifting, perhaps even rowing back to the ramp late in the day. But we are here, and the weather and company are fine, so we back away from the dock.

At first my suspicions seem vindicated—we are sailing, yes, but apparently not at any great speed. Then Josh pulls out the GPS and, to my astonishment, in perhaps 4 knots of wind the Core Sound 20 is cruising along, closehauled, at 4.4 knots—yet there is no fuss, no noise, no effort; the helm is balanced, the boat stable. With only 155 sq ft of sail, I could perhaps be forgiven for expecting little of the boat. But combined with the lightweight hull, the cat- ketch rig is both efficient and versatile. The low center of effort produces less heeling motion; the sail area is well balanced fore and aft, and in gusts the masts will bend to flatten the sail and depower the rig. In most winds, the sails can be left sheeted in to tack themselves and, with no booms, there’s no fear of being hit over the head if you forget to duck. Downwind, the rig is beautifully balanced sailing wing-on-wing, and—I’m reliably informed by both Ray Frechette and Graham Byrnes—when running in a strong wind if you let the sails go forward of the beam, it will stabilize the boat. On the rare occasion that you miss a tack and momentarily find yourself in irons, you simply back the main and the boat pivots smartly away from the wind. Sailing into a beach or dock downwind, the sheets can be let go and the sails will fly forward of the masts. To heave-to the mizzen is simply sheeted in, the main allowed to run free. Finally, both sails are rigged with double-ended sheets so that the helmsman always has an end close to hand—whether sitting to leeward or windward—and there’s never a need to lean across the boat to grab a sheet when it’s least convenient.

Within minutes the Core Sound 20 has proven herself and Ray, Josh, and I settle in to enjoy our afternoon. On a reach, we play with the optional mizzen staysail that gives us an extra 100 sq ft of sail area, and, in these light airs, another knot or so of speed; we beach for lunch at Fort Gorges, running the boat up the shingle but not worrying about getting small stones in the centerboard trunk because it is offset and not touching the beach; and we sail back to the ramp late in the afternoon to load the boat back on the trailer ready for the tow home. It has been a pleasure, and I find myself wondering if I can somehow arrange a windier outing on another day—or maybe Graham needs crew for the 2008 Everglades Challenge?

Both boats are built stitch-and- glue using plywood, 3⁄8″ on the bottom and 1⁄4″ on the sides. Masts are three-piece aluminum, require no standing rigging, and can be stowed in the boat.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. If you have more info about this boat, plan or design – please let us know in the comment section.

If you have seven days to race 90 nautical miles through the Canadian Gulf and San Juan Islands in a small craft powered solely by sail or oar power, this is the boat to enter. A Mower dory has been the top-finishing sailing craft in one such arduous race—called the Shipyard School Raid—each of the past two years.

Then again, if racing the clock doesn’t appeal, but you’re looking for a classy yet practical camp-cruiser for extended gunkholing—and perhaps an amateur boatbuilding challenge—this could very well be your boat.

The 18′ plank-on-frame Swampscott sailing dory is not only good-looking; it also sails fast and rows tolerably well. And nearly a century after its racing hull was conceived by noted yacht designer Charles D. Mower (pronounced with a long “o,” as in “lawnmower”), the Mower dory is still competitive.

Photo by Matthew P. Murphy

The 18′ Mower Dory is an evolution of the beach-launched fishing boats of Swampscott, Massachusetts. Fishermen were skeptical of these boats when the type debuted in the early 1900s; these dories gained respect rapidly, however, for their windward ability and dryness.

“It was built to be a Raid winner,” said dory co-owner and Raid racer Quill Goldman. Raid organizer and yacht designer Tad Roberts concurs that “the Mower dory is a competitive Raid boat because it can be rowed very quickly when required and sails really well in both light and heavy wind—in fact, she sails better than most with an experienced crew.”

Inspired by a fellow racer’s Mower-designed 21′ X-dory, Goldman and his friend and business partner Richard Lyons picked the 18′ Mower dory out of the lineup of small boats John Gardner presents in his well-known book Building Classic Small Craft, Vol. 2 (International Marine, 1984). “I remember paging through the book and thinking, ‘That would be a great boat,’” Goldman said.

Then the two co-owners of Barefoot Wooden Boats— a boatbuilding, restoration, and charter company—set about making modifications to the Mower dory plans based on their requirements for long-distance racing. Goldman and Lyons swapped the leg-o’-mutton main for a sliding gunter rig, added a kick-up rudder blade extension and a second set of oarlocks, and called for sheathing the plywood bottom with Kevlar for superior abrasion resistance upon beaching.

The Silva Bay Shipyard School on Gabriola Island, British Columbia, which graduated both Goldman and Lyons in the early 2000s, is where the men turned to commission two Mower dories. Students at the school built one Mower dory, SWORDFISH, in 2005–06, and another, BARRACUDA, one year later. Further modifications to the second boat included lowering the profile of the center-board trunk so it was flush with the thwarts, enabling a second rowing thwart to be installed forward of the first.

When rowing long distances as a team, Goldman and Lyons find it most efficient to sweep only two oars with rowing stations staggered, switching sides when their arms tire. When under sail, the jibsheets are long enough for the helmsman to handle from the stern, so the dory can be singlehanded.

“It’s really versatile, the way it rows, the way it sails,” said Goldman. “It’s light enough that two people can drag it up the beach and push it back in the morning.”

“And the unstayed rig is so simple, one person can ship and unship the mast,” added Lyons.

For this review, we sailed and rowed SWORDFISH on Port Townsend Bay, the finish line for the 2007 Raid. Surprisingly, the Mower dory wasn’t as tender as it looked, as we found when switching places and tucking in a test reef. The helm was responsive in a light breeze, and the hull rode high and light. (With the centerboard up, the Mower dory draws only 4″ to 6″, depending on the load.) The wide laps made for a quiet ride. And the hull’s graceful curves drew admiring looks along the waterfront, as the sheerline of a Swampscott dory is bound to do.

Photo by Matthew P. Murphy

This Mower dory carries a gunter rig. The class was originally powered by a low-aspect sail plan—a so-called “leg-o’-mutton” rig.

Charles Mower was destined to become design editor of The Rudder magazine in the first decade of the 1900s, but he was only 23 in 1898 when he designed a 21′ racing dory for the Swampscott Club. What came to be known as the X-dory was highly competitive against the Alpha dories of Salem, Massachusetts, and the Beachcomber dories of neighboring Marblehead. Although it was Mower’s first commissioned design, it has stood the test of time.

This 18′ Mower dory is essentially a scaled-down X-dory, John Gardner concluded after the more than 40-year-old blueprints came into his hands in 1978. “In fact, it appears that Mower had one basic dory hull that he considered to be the ultimate Swampscott dory hull,” he wrote in Building Classic Small Craft. “In adapting it to a number of varying requirements he made some minor and superficial changes, but always without altering the fundamental characteristics of his original 1898 design for the Swampscott Club.

“The success of the X-dory was so outstanding that there was little incentive to attempt to improve upon it, and good reason not to risk spoiling it, even to a minor extent.”

In readying the plans for publication, Gardner notes that his principal departure from the original Mower blueprints was to suggest the addition of a rowing thwart “and the other minor changes that will make it possible to row this boat.” Gardner also recommends the addition of flotation if the vessel will see recreational use, especially by children. He is convinced the Mower dory’s beaminess (at 5′, it is 8″ to 10″ wider than the average rowing dory of the same length) makes it a stable sailing craft. And he points out that a number of sailing rigs may work equally well on the hull, as the dory’s extra beam and her side decks and coamings mean it can safely carry more sail than narrower dories of the same length that are entirely open.

There is one shortcoming: in his blueprints, Mower included but one sectional view of the dory and only a few basic dimensions. Gardner included some additional drawings of his own in his book, but a full set of plans does not exist. “Apparently he [Mower] expected that prospective builders would be familiar with standard dory construction,” Gardner noted.

This assumption gave Al Brunt pause. “I wasn’t that familiar with dory construction to begin with,” said Brunt, the head instructor at Silva Bay Shipyard School who oversaw construction of the two Mower dories. “I sort of had second thoughts when we were lining up to do the first Mower with the limited plans we had. [But Gardner’s book includes] a table of offsets, and that’s all you really need.”

Brunt said the dory was a good teaching boat, requiring a variety of techniques such as both sawn and steam-bent frames, and a plywood bottom combined with cedar-planked topsides. “Some pretty awkward angles” required full-sized mock-ups, including one detailing where the transom meets the bottom and garboard planks. Again and again, the instructors, students, and owners put their heads together to problem-solve design issues in true team fashion. In the end, Brunt said, “it was a wonderful, challenging project figuring everything out.”

Amateur builders considering the Mower dory are directed to Gardner’s The Dory Book (International Marine, 1978; Mystic Seaport Museum, 1987), which contains an extensive section called “How to Build a Dory,” including instruction on how to read a table of offsets.

The last word goes to builder Brunt, who is mightily impressed by the performance of the boat he’s twice taken from drawings to varnish. “It certainly scoots,” he said of the Mower dory. “It’s surprising how quick it is. It sails like a witch!”

John Gardner recorded numerous boats for amateur construction. He published these in two volumes of Building Classic Small Craft. The Mower dory appears in the second of these books.

This Boat Profile was published in Small Boats 2008 and appears here as archival material. If you have more info about this boat, plan or design – please let us know in the comment section.