‘Believe me, my young friend, there is NOTHING — absolute nothing — half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,’ he went on dreamily: ‘messing — about — in — boats; messing — about in boats—or WITH boats,’ the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh. ‘In or out of ’em, it doesn’t matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that’s the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don’t; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you’re always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you’ve done it there’s always something else to do, and you can do it if you like …’
— Kenneth Grahame, The Wind In The Willows
I’ve been painting a rather gloomy scene here, over the past couple of weeks. I sincerely need to “lighten up” this space, and the best way might be to write of something I enjoy: my boat, my fiberglass mistress, my “significant other.” It’s not only the sailing of her that I enjoy, but I actually enjoy working on her, taking care of her, the improvements I can make on her, and the projects that I can take on during the cold and inhospitable winter months on the Chesapeake Bay. In fact, I should introduce her formally: This is Halcyon, my yacht.
Halcyon is a Bristol 29.9, built in 1979 by Bristol Yachts of Bristol, Rhode Island. She was designed by Halsey Herreshoff – the grandson of “Wizard Of Bristol” Nathaniel Herreshoff, and a fine yacht-designer in his own right. She is just an inch short of 30 feet long, to comply with the size restrictions of the Midget Ocean Racing Club class, and boats of this design have taken on some serious storms and gotten home safely; I’ve heard from Bristol 29.9 sailors who have been caught out in truly wild conditions, one of whom said “I doubted myself, but I never doubted the boat.” I didn’t buy Halcyon to brave the Atlantic, but it’s good to know she’s that sturdy. I bought her because she’s big enough to make a fair attempt at living aboard, but not so big that I’d have a hard time handling her single-handed.
She’s only four feet longer than my previous boat, a MacGregor 26 trailer-sailor, but she is a whole lot more boat. Her lead-ballasted keel alone weighs more than the all-up weight of the Mac with its water-ballast tanks full. She’s beamier, too; the Mac is 7’8″ abeam, while Halcyon is 10’2″. She is much roomier inside, and she makes good use of that space.
A boat of this size is comparable to more than a car, and certainly it’s more than the kind of outboard motorboat that you’d take your kids out for water-skiing or wakeboarding on a bright July afternoon. It’s more like a weekend cottage, that just happens to be on the wet side of the seashore. Halcyon is not so big that I’m overtaxed, getting her ready to go out just for a couple of hours’ sailing on a nice day, but she is big enough for me to live aboard, comfortably, for a week or two – maybe more.
And she has “all the comforts of home” in the compact fashion that will fit aboard a boat. This is the “salon,” or main cabin; the dining table folds up against the forward bulkhead, when it’s not in use. And the left-side settee pulls out into a bunk nearly the size of a double bed. The head, or marine toilet, is just ahead of this salon, and there’s a forward cabin with a V-berth up in the bow. She has comfortable beds, comfortable seats around the dining table, indoor plumbing (the infamous “marine head”), a tiny but well-laid-out kitchen (or “galley” to the sailor – with a two-burner stove, an icebox, and a fresh-water sink), and a comfortable “porch” in the cockpit – with the ship’s wheel across the back of it. The spray hood, over the main hatch, and an awning that zips to the back of it, provide me with some shelter out there when the weather requires it.
Back under the cockpit, there is storage space for an inflatable boat (or “tender”), for fenders and dock lines, and for other “stuff” that needs to be brought along but doesn’t need to be kept in the cabin. There’s also a 15-hp diesel engine, and its 15-gallon fuel tank. Taking care of this engine, and of the plumbing and electrical gear on the boat, sometimes makes boat ownership seem like a Faustian bargain – but these skills and competencies are utterly needful, if I want to “sail away” some day. And I take satisfaction in learning these tasks, and doing them well.
Halcyon may not be enough boat to reach the full extent of my dreams. Last year’s review of the Bristol 29.9, in Good Old Boat magazine, described it as “an adequate coastal cruiser,” suggesting that I might be wise not to take her too far out to sea; but the marine surveyor who checked her out for me, prior to my buying her, re-stated my question about it as “Well, could you sail her to Bermuda?” His implication was that the boat could make it if I could handle it.
Halcyon is not “the perfect boat.” There’s no such thing as “the perfect boat,” short of one that you’ve adapted perfectly to your plans and needs and desires. But I enjoyed the summer, sailing her close to home; I’m enjoying the work I’m doing over the winter, things such as new cabin windows and new upholstery for the settees and bunks, to make her more comfortable. In the coming summer, and in the coming years as a matter of fact, I’m going to enjoy taking her farther and farther afield, and learning if I could be comfortable living full-time aboard my sailing yacht. And … simply messing around in her. Kenneth Grahame’s “Ratty” is right; there is nothing else half so much worth doing.
I got “married” last year – meet my fiberglass bride! …
Love the boat, hope you get a lot more use out of her.
Why not go in for a bluewater boat and explore the world?
Check out the photo journals (lots of pages for each at the bottom) http://www.petersmith.net.nz/
That’s not me but an older man who followed his dreams. Amazing photos, plan to go myself one day.
Thanks, Rowan, obviously I love Halcyon, too. I am headed toward the bluewater boat, but taking it step by step – and Halcyon is a very good boat for the current step: seeing if I could indeed be comfortable living aboard a boat for an extended period of time.
Halcyon is an excellent boat for the Chesapeake Bay, which is a big enough body of water that I could enjoy the next several years exploring its nooks and crannies. She’s big enough, comfy enough, and well-enough equipped, to be a decent “stand-in” for the size and style of blue-water boat that I might get when I am ready to sail away “for keeps.” At the same time, she’s not so large that I’m challenged single-handing her, and she cost maybe a fifth of the price of a good, same-vintage, “bluewater” boat.
I haven’t committed myself to the blue-water cruising life, not yet. I still have some responsibilities, here at home (most notably my Dear Auntie, and my own house that I’ll have to clear out and sell before I cast off for good). So Halcyon is perfect for me now, and I’ll sail her until I come to the point where she “isn’t enough boat” for me.
She looks like alot of boat to me. Your a Lin and Larry fan as am I. If I remember right they circumnavigated in a 24 foot boat; granted a very well designed little boat. But you´ve definitely got the right boat; just a matter of you feeling comfortable enough with the challenge.
Years ago, I had the privilege to accompany another sailor on a short sail in a 24 foot Bristol. My 23 foot Irwin was noticeably lighter; the Bristol is just simply a heavier boat. We took it out in front of the beach, and it had no problem maintaining the same distance as a ? moderate wind tried to push us onto the beach. The boat took some time to get up to speed as we tacked back and forth but all that weight didn´t want to stop on a dime either. This was down in the Keys and the kid who owned the boat was a noticeably confident sailor. If he didn´t let drugs end up ruling his life, maybe he has sailed the Caribbean; the boat and him were up to the task.
Now you say that you have an essentially 30 foot Bristol; I can only imagine how much more boat than the 24´. Maybe it would be counterproductive to your sailing goals to keep thinking about another graduation, and if space is the problem, how about a house boat? hahaha
True enough, Senior Manchild – the Bristol 29.9 is a lot of boat for its size and the money I spent for it. And its littler, older brother, the Bristol 27, has gone the long way around with more than one adventurer – or so I’m told.
As for the Bristol 24 – I saw one offered for a very reasonable price, the other day, on the Chesapeake Bristol Club website. That is a really nice little boat, and it’s solid and seaworthy as well. As is her bigger sister – I should say “her bigger sisterS” because Bristol Yachts made quite a line of fine vessels.
I’ve put nearly $6000 into Halcyon this winter, over $3000 in the new portlights and nearly $3000 in a new suit of sails. She is in better than “really good” condition for sailing the Bay. With more experience, I may get her and myself up to the point where I’d trust her for “chasing the long rainbow” – enough experience might persuade me to take her through the Panama Canal and onward to the Marquesas.
But … you know … when everything is “in place” for me to Sail Beyond The Sunset, I will very certainly have the wherewithal to get the kind of “bluewater boat” that Rowan mentioned above. After the 2011 Annapolis Boat Show, I’m quite honestly seduced by the Cabo Rico 34/36 – or the Kaiser Gale Force 34 – or the Crealock 34 built by Pacific Seacraft – or, well, let’s just say, I would have no compunctions about “trading up” when the day arrives.
(Thank you for your “hahaha” after “how about a house boat?” It proves that you were taking it in the same spirit of sarcasm that I might have chosen!)
Its always nice reading about someone living out their dreams. I always dreamed of building my own submarine while growing up but the govt. doesn’t look too favorably on someone who insists on arming themselves with a nuclear cruise missile. I also dreamed of flying through space but chose to live out my dream of becoming a poet in my spare time even though I’ve had to constantly fight off my wife’s attempt to control what I read, write and watch on tv.