Mirelle
N/A
We see a lot of debate here about new boats. Maybe the old ones should be exiled to their own ghetto in "Classic Boat", but I thought I might just explain why some of us do bother with boats that need painting, don't go astern in marinas, don't have showers or Eberspachers and have amazingly little room in the cabin for their size.
Although a motor car from the 1930's can be taken out for runs and rallies in the summer months, no-one would use one for everyday transport. Since yachts are never everyday transport, this sort of argument does not make a perfect parallel, but an old boat does make a practical cruiser; she will do many things rather less well than a modern one, but there are a few things that she will do rather better.
Whether the boat is in good order, or not, depends on the owner; I should think almost everyone here will have had the experience of either crewing on, or buying, a newish boat where some things did not work. Indeed, if we are honest, it is quite unusual to make a long passage in a boat where everything works as intended. But there is no particular reason for an old boat to be less seaworthy than a new boat.
An old boat is somehow a more personal possession than a modern one.
It is very noticeable that many old boats have not changed hands for donkey's years; some even are passed down in families and are on their second, or even their third generation of owners.
Part of the fascination of such a boat is that you can slowly work out how to do things as well as possible, whether this is in the sailing of the boat, the stowing of provisions or in small alterations. In this way the boat and her owner(s) grow more like each other.
There is a tremendous satisfaction to be had by just sailing a little bit better, year after year, as one grows moe familiar with the boat. I have now become reasonably proficient at picking up a mooring buoy....but there is also satisfaction, and peace of mind, in knowing how she will do in the range of less good weather conditions that we get.
It often happens that owners of old boats are known by their boats; I was once treated to a long description of my own sailing style and habits, by a harbour master who knew my boat, but who had assumed, since she had changed colour during the winter, that I was a new owner! This is about as close as one can get to reading one's own obituary, I suppose.
There is pleasure to be had in mastering, or at any rate becoming reasonably competent at, the arts of the sailor in the days of sail - turning in a good splice or seizing, for example. In this way one's boat is a sort of time machine, taking one back to the days of Maurice Griffiths, or Claud Worth, or even Jack Aubrey.
An awful lot of people look at an old boat and say something like "Lovely, but I could not cope with all that maintenance," or words to such effect. The odd thing is that chandleries are full of what one might call "tidging up" products for modern production cruisers - glass fibre polishes, various gloops for prettying up teak decks, fender socks, and so on. The urge to fiddle with one's boat seems to be universal. I am not really sure that all that energy devoted to polishing gelcoat or scrubbing teak is as repaying as the same energy devoted to a coat of varnish, but maybe it is.
And as a working rule old boats are prettier - they look more like what we think a boat ought to look like.
Anyway, that, my lords, is the case for the defence.
Although a motor car from the 1930's can be taken out for runs and rallies in the summer months, no-one would use one for everyday transport. Since yachts are never everyday transport, this sort of argument does not make a perfect parallel, but an old boat does make a practical cruiser; she will do many things rather less well than a modern one, but there are a few things that she will do rather better.
Whether the boat is in good order, or not, depends on the owner; I should think almost everyone here will have had the experience of either crewing on, or buying, a newish boat where some things did not work. Indeed, if we are honest, it is quite unusual to make a long passage in a boat where everything works as intended. But there is no particular reason for an old boat to be less seaworthy than a new boat.
An old boat is somehow a more personal possession than a modern one.
It is very noticeable that many old boats have not changed hands for donkey's years; some even are passed down in families and are on their second, or even their third generation of owners.
Part of the fascination of such a boat is that you can slowly work out how to do things as well as possible, whether this is in the sailing of the boat, the stowing of provisions or in small alterations. In this way the boat and her owner(s) grow more like each other.
There is a tremendous satisfaction to be had by just sailing a little bit better, year after year, as one grows moe familiar with the boat. I have now become reasonably proficient at picking up a mooring buoy....but there is also satisfaction, and peace of mind, in knowing how she will do in the range of less good weather conditions that we get.
It often happens that owners of old boats are known by their boats; I was once treated to a long description of my own sailing style and habits, by a harbour master who knew my boat, but who had assumed, since she had changed colour during the winter, that I was a new owner! This is about as close as one can get to reading one's own obituary, I suppose.
There is pleasure to be had in mastering, or at any rate becoming reasonably competent at, the arts of the sailor in the days of sail - turning in a good splice or seizing, for example. In this way one's boat is a sort of time machine, taking one back to the days of Maurice Griffiths, or Claud Worth, or even Jack Aubrey.
An awful lot of people look at an old boat and say something like "Lovely, but I could not cope with all that maintenance," or words to such effect. The odd thing is that chandleries are full of what one might call "tidging up" products for modern production cruisers - glass fibre polishes, various gloops for prettying up teak decks, fender socks, and so on. The urge to fiddle with one's boat seems to be universal. I am not really sure that all that energy devoted to polishing gelcoat or scrubbing teak is as repaying as the same energy devoted to a coat of varnish, but maybe it is.
And as a working rule old boats are prettier - they look more like what we think a boat ought to look like.
Anyway, that, my lords, is the case for the defence.
)
