Three-quarters of the way through building his Pescott 38, Nowhere Fast, John Connell shares some of the invaluable lessons he has learned.
Twenty-four knots in 12 knots of wind! Not bad but I think the police escort might be a contributing factor. Most amazing thing about launch day is that I ever got here given my unmatched talent for procrastination. I see so many stories about kit boats these days I feel the need to remind those at the bottom of the food chain that there is another way to get on the water. It might take a little more work though!
The decision to build from scratch is almost always driven by finance.
For some of us it’s the only way to get the boat of our dreams. My dream had been in my head for 30 years when I finally started to turn it into a reality.
1 Choice of design
The choice of design is a compromise between need and desire. Some wise person once said that the purpose of the first cruising yacht is to show you what you really needed. My previous boat was a smallish cruiser/racer trimaran from the mid-80s. She gave me a taste for performance and some idea as to what I needed in the way of space and equipment. Contrary to the expectations of many, having more than one hull is no guarantee of pace. There are some seriously disappointing slugs out there that can only really be called motor-sailers. I wanted a boat that went upwind efficiently and downwind maniacally. Mini-keels (as opposed to centreboards) weren’t an option although I understand why so many go that way. Low profile was also important to me because it directly relates to windward performance and peace of mind when anchored in 40 knots. Anyway, who wants a boat that resembles a Moscow housing project!
The “galley up” idea — having the galley in the saloon — has never appealed to me. Staring at a sink full of dirty pots is almost enough to put me off my mushroom risotto. “Nav station up,” on the other hand, now there’s an idea. Experience from my previous boat showed the value of being able to easily and quickly access the charts without having to stray too far from the cockpit. I realise that most people these days will simply watch a chartplotter and with that as an option I built a high cabinet backing onto the cabin bulkhead where the window is. This allows me to secure a laptop here facing out into the cockpit, relatively sheltered from the weather. This option suits cats more than monos.
The decision on which design to build was made for me when I shared an anchorage with Lickety Split, a very sharp 38’ Pescott cat built by Drew Wooller. A first-hand opportunity to evaluate the cat’s performance, plus Drew’s offer of assistance with the build, sealed the decision.
Lickety Split (now Loose Cannon) is a stretched version of Mark Pescott’s Summersault design: 11.6m of elegance and excitement. As a singlehander I am able to put performance above load-carrying capacity in importance and this design gives me plenty of performance with a spare bunk for guests and another for my surfboard. My vessel is almost a copy of Lickety Split except that I raised the cabin roof by 200mm and made a few detail changes.
The construction method is strip-plank using western red cedar. The local supplier, Cedar Sales, mills the timber with a cup and cove-edge system that makes the planks physically lock together. The slight increase in cost proved to be worthwhile because these planks produce a quite fair hull straight off the mould. It pays to spend a little extra in some areas when the return in time saved is justified. For example, buy precut fibreglass tapes rather than cutting your own from a roll of cloth. You’ll avoid tendonitis this way and save hours.
Propulsion comes from a single pod-mounted outboard which suits me because I harbour a serious dislike for motoring and all things mechanical. A 15hp four-stroke is all that’s required to get me in and out of marinas.
It’s not my intention to describe the whole building adventure here. Just to get you thinking and throw some general thoughts your way. Keep in mind that, although my choice was a cat, this is a non-denominational rant.
2 Find a (tor)mentor
If you’re like me, this will be the single biggest thing you’ve ever undertaken. Doubt your ability to manage such a project? Find yourself a (tor)mentor. Someone to show you the right way or better still the fast way to do stuff. Those of limited experience can turn out a surprisingly good vessel this way. Just ask anyone who knows me. Having no trade skills, all I brought to this exercise was irrational optimism. Learn to affect a look of pathetic incompetence for those times when your more talented friends show up. If they don’t actually do that difficult job for you, they’ll at least show you how. Drew helped with the larger fibreglassing runs, showed me numerous techniques for various tasks, built the rudders, chainplates and other bits and generally pointed me in the right direction whenever I got bogged down.
3 Suitable shed/yard
If you have to rent a shed, make sure the arrangement is stable. There’s nothing fun about having to move a half-done project. I had the extraordinary good luck to be able to use Wayne Dolan’s shed on Brisbane’s north side. Wayne had previously built a Pescott cat himself and this experience, plus his engineering knowledge, proved invaluable. Wayne had the machinery in the shed and the ability to turn up steering fittings, weld the forward catwalk and was that useful second opinion on a range of issues.
4 Spraypainters
Don’t underestimate the value of a good spraypainter. Brett Diesel made me look all kinds of clever! Find one who knows that preparation is measured in weeks not days and can differentiate marine paint from house paint. Shiny two-pack paint may not be traditional for interiors but it certainly is functional. It looks clean (when it is clean) and on a wet and blowy night a bright cabin looks like somewhere you want to escape to. It seems to me that less actual lighting is required with a white interior thanks to the reflection. Having said all that refer to my thoughts on cost.
5 Riggers
Pick your rigger. Don’t just go for the lowest quote. Be sure of what you’re actually getting. David Lambourne’s involvement with Jessica Watson seemed like a great recommendation. He was able to save me thousands by simplifying the rig and deck layout in line with my cruising mentality. Some equipment was unnecessary or could be added later. He also allowed me to work alongside his guy Julian, drilling holes and punching rivets. This gave me first-hand insight into how the mast goes together.
I was surprised and pleased to see that all fittings are attached to backing plates inside the mast rather than simply being screwed into the section as some riggers do. This is a time-consuming process but the final result must surely be worth it. Losing a rig at sea can mean having to abandon the boat and that’s a possibility I don’t want to contemplate.
6 Cheap can be cheerful
Sometimes cheap tools are the way to go. I resin-encapsulated three cordless drills and dropped and broke two grinders. The sander/polisher will get a big workout but a cheap Ozito was more than adequate for me. Do buy a good jigsaw though. This machine will do some miles.
7 Time
I could tell you that it’s going to take longer then you expect but by the time you realise the truth of that you’ll be too far into it to stop. For me, around two and a half years saw the boat in the water, albeit with the interior only half completed. I also worked a full-time job but had no
family commitments to juggle.
8 The real cost
Cost? How long is a piece of string? Accept that it will cost more than you planned. Suck it up and get a second job. That materials list that comes with the study plans is just the beginning. I mean it. As for paint, the cost is all in the preparation and can vary by a factor of 10. Don’t forget transport to the water. In my case this was around $5000 for a total distance of eight kilometres plus crane hire. Kind of sounds like I’m trying to put you off. Not really, just cheque reality. It all comes down to priorities. Do you want a boatshow bordello or do you want to be soaking up rays in New Caledonia?
9 Run with it
Find what works for you. I like to use momentum. When I’m on a roll I run with it, put in a long day, a long week until I hit the wall or run into something that makes me stop to work a way round. Then I nibble at the problem. Go away, do something else, come back and stare at it, do a little bit of work on it, wear it down gradually.
10 Think power
Don’t do anything by hand if there’s a power tool that will do the job. The right jig can turn the most inept into the Michaelangelo of woodwork. See if your library keeps copies of woodworking magazines. Sometimes you just need that one idea. The roundover bit in the router is one item you’ll use often.
11 Learn from others
Don’t just skim the photos in the sailing magazines, look at the detail. Walk the marina checking out deck-fitting layouts on boats similar to yours. Take photos.
12 Spectacles
If you wear spectacles, make sure you have an old pair for fibreglassing and spraypainting.
13 Respirators
Get yourself a decent respirator. One that fits properly and comes with interchangeable filters for dust or paint fumes. Those throwaway paper things are unacceptable considering how often you’ll be wearing one. There’s no logic to saving a few dollars here if it shortens your life.
14 Check out your tradies
If your boat needs to be transported to the water or crane-lifted in, try to get a look at the guys you’re using before you book them. Jason Wallis of JMW Cranes was efficient and professional. Another transport mob . . . well, the less said
the better.
15 Enjoy the moment
There are threshold moments to be celebrated; completion of the first hull, dropping in the bulkhead that joins the hulls, pulling the masking tape off that wet-look, two-pack, new toilet bowl paint job. Enjoy the moment.
16 Music makes the time go by
Buy an iPod. Nothing makes a tedious job bearable quite like it. Sick of Jimmy Buffet? Download podcasts; humour (you’ll need it), astronomy, learn French in anticipation of that South Pacific cruise — all while sanding off that 20 litres of expensive high-build.
17 Don’t be deterred
Don’t let them talk you out of it. Just do it. It’s a blast. A laugh a minute (that high-pitched, kind of hysterical laugh) Sanding? Well, yeah there’s a bit of that. You may even think it’s a waste not to use these newly acquired skills again . . . ?
Appreciate that there will be times when you doubt you’ll ever see the end. Don’t feel guilty about taking a break when necessary. Make a list of
why you started this crazy thing. Refer to it when necessary.
18 Naming your dreamboat
The name. Now here’s a chance to really make a statement so “Wanderer” just doesn’t cut it any more. I went through my CD collection looking for an interesting boat name. “Over the Hill(s) and Far Away” (Led Zeppelin) seemed the most appropriate but a little too long so I settled on what you see, Nowhere Fast.
Final word from Meatloaf — “Nowhere Fast” (1984): “The future’s going to rust if we don’t put it to some use.”
| 7:08AM |
"SMB3.5's protest against Lucette was upheld, not dismissed as reported in the article. Lucette's counter prote..." Tazzie_Tigger on Victoire scores second... |
| 10:25AM |
"Thanks, Carol, for producing a great read, giving us stuff dreams are made of as well as lots of practical inf..." Graham Candy on Phil Ross takes the rei... |