What's hidden under water

IT HAS ALWAYS SEEMED a little strange to me that one of the most important parts of a sailboat is usually totally hidden from view. When you look at a traditional cruising sailboat in the water you can’t see what’s below the waterline: that fairly deep keel that extends a long way fore and aft.  Neither can you see what what’s hanging from the bottom of a racing boat, or a modern cruising boat, that deep narrow keel that looks more like an airplane wing than part of a seagoing yacht.

Those people who know boats will have a good idea of what’s under water, of course. Just looking at the shape of the hull will tell them what to expect. But people who are new to the sea won’t know that a long, full keel will make a boat act very differently from one that has a small fin keel.

There are many people who will tell you that a fin keel means speed, while a full, old-fashioned keel means slow going and bad pointing; but the late Bill Crealock, a well respected yacht designer, once told me:  “A racing boat accelerates quicker, but there’s no reason why cruising hulls can’t be just as fast over long distances.”  And indeed, his words were proven when one of his best-known cruising designs, the Westsail 32, came first in class in the regular race across the Pacific from San Francisco to Hawaii.

Few boats are built with traditional keels these days, and some modern cruising designs have evolved keels that are neither fish nor fowl. They’re a compromise between the efficiency of a fin keel and the directional stability provided by a full-length keel.

To help restore the lost tracking ability that is such an advantage in long-distance cruising, they often have a skeg built on the after-end of the hull, to which the rudder is attached. The shortened keel is marginally more efficient in hydrodynamic terms, but the steering is quite a lot more tiring in terms of short-handed amateur crews, particularly the popular mom-and-pop teams.

There seems to be nothing terribly wrong with this compromise arrangement, apart from its propensity to snag stray ropes and lobster pots on the skeg and unprotected propeller, but sometimes you have to wonder whether it’s really necessary to depart from the traditional full-blooded cruising design that served so well for so many years.

The Westsail 32 I mentioned above is an offshoot of the double-ended Colin Archer type, for example—a Scandinavian lifeboat and pilot vessel.  Their ability to tow two fishing boats off a lee shore in a gale was legendary.

And I can never help smiling when I hear people say fin keels are faster.  If 5 knots is slow, is 6 knots fast?  Aren’t they both slow? Cruising is primarily about safety and dependability, comfort, and seakindliness. Although much faster speeds can be useful in avoiding bad weather, cruising is not primarily about speed. That’s what airplanes are for.

Today’s Thought

There  is more to life than increasing its speed.
— Mahatma Gandhi

Tailpiece

“Still got your horse?”
“Nah, he was too polite for me.”
“Polite?”
“Yeah, every time we came to a jump he insisted that I go first.”

(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)

Deep-sixing the keel

OWNERS OF J/80 SAILBOATS must be feeling a little shaky these days. They’re wondering if their keels will fall off. And with good reason, because one actually did fall off a J/80 in the recent Farallones Doublehanded Race at sea off San Francisco. The boat turned turtle immediately, and the two-man crew was lucky to be rescued by the Coast Guard after an hour in the cold water — and then only because one of them dived under the boat to retrieve a hand-held radio and transmit a Mayday.

The J/80 is one of Rod Johnstone’s metric designs, of course. It’s 8 meters long. That’s 26.3 feet in real money. And there are more than 1,000 of them in various parts of the world. It has a 1,400-pound lead fin keel with a bulb, attached to the hull stub with seven 3/4-inch stainless steel bolts. But it wasn’t the keel bolts that let go, apparently. It seems the bottom tore out of the fiberglass hull.

The manufacturer describes the J/80 as a “family rocketship.” All I can say is that it’s a good job the whole family wasn’t on board when this ship went rocketing toward the sea bottom. This wasn’t the first time a J/80 has lost its keel.

Ironically, because it’s advertised as a family daysailer/weekender, the company places great emphasis on safety. It boasts: “The J/80 is certified for Design Category B of the EU Recreational Craft Directive which states that qualifying boats are designed for waves up to 13 feet high with winds to 41 knots, or conditions which may be encountered on offshore voyages of sufficient length or on coasts where shelter may not always be immediately available.”

The yachting Press apparently believed them. Sailing World’s reviewer, quoting Carl Schumacher, said: “ ... you could actually think about taking it in a race offshore.” The reviewer added that it was “safer and better suited for sailing offshore than other modern sport boats tested.” Practical Sailor said in a review: “We wouldn’t be afraid to take the boat into the ocean.” Well, gentlemen, maybe you should be afraid.

The manufacturer’s response to this accident, which could so easily have ended in tragedy, was blunt and uncompromising:

“No sailboat is going to last forever without some updating and repairs, particularly if campaigned hard. We do not know what factors over its 15 year life may have led to the failure on J/80 hull #45. But we strongly urge all J/80 owners, indeed all J/Boat owners, to routinely inspect keel stringers and keel sump areas, both internally and externally with frequency and most importantly prior to entering an offshore race.”

We all know that speed in sailboats comes at the expense of something else: sometimes comfort, sometimes seaworthiness, usually accommodation, often all three. I have no argument with this, but what does worry me is that a boat like the J/80 should be presented as a safe family boat. No boat should have its keel fall off at any stage of its life, but racers knowingly accept risks that families shouldn’t even have to consider.

I’m very thankful that my slow and old-fashioned 25-year-old cruising boat has its ballast keel encapsulated in the hull. It brings peace of mind that must now be quite rare among J/80 sailors.

Today’s Thought
A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.
—John A. Shedd, Salt from My Attic

Tailpiece
“Barman! Barman! Do your lemons have legs?”
“No, sir, of course not.”
“Too bad. I guess I just squeezed your canary into my drink.”