A depressing thought or two...

A needful read that might help, puke inducing, and an artistic statement of note...

Yesterday I went to a designer's website to find it was no longer there. My task this morning was to try and sort out what happened to the site but it did get me thinking.

Maybe it's just that since I'm of a certain age but I worry these days about how easy it is for the good work of various artists, writers, and designers to fall out of availability when they fall out of fashion or die.

A while back, after confronting my own mortality, I decided that I wanted to reread a bunch of books that I look back on as pivotal to my development. Partly to revisit my youth but mostly just to try and capture feelings of wonder when confronted with ideas that shook my world at the time. 

Do you want to know what happened? 

I found that most all of those books are now out of print so Amazon doesn't have them and while the search continues neither does Abe's Books. It's like they've just disappeared.

Which brings me to designers of sailboats. Most designers are a one-man-band as they market themselves, do the actual designs, and then sell their older designs as stock plans. The thing is that once a designer retires or dies there is often little or nothing done to protect their body of work for future generations.

There's a couple of designs I'd love to get my hands on. In one case, the designer died with no family and the whereabouts of his designs are a mystery. In the other, the designs are being held by the decedents but their take on selling a set of plans is that it would be too much work to bother with.

So, when I see a designer I admire fall off the internet, I worry. Not just for the designer in question but about what might happen to their collective work.

None of us like to admit that we're only temporary guests on this mortal merry-go-round. Face it, it's kind of depressing. But it gets a whole lot more depressing if that after we've left the party that the work accomplished fades away.

Listening to St Paul and the Broken Bones

So it goes...

another cool design...

 Regarding the high cost of hamburger, yet another COVID cure you may want to avoid, and in the "Remind me to never eat out in Ohio" department...

I'll go on record and say that I've always liked Dudley Dix designs. Partly because he actually understands boat building (which is surprisingly rare in designers) and partly because, every once in a while he surprises me.

Like this design.

 

 

It's a design that fills a need/niche and it does so incredibly well. What impresses me the most is that it is just the sort of design most designers would avoid like the plague as being just too different.

Face it, designers are seldom rewarded for coming up with boats that do not fall into the same old same vein.

As soon as I came across this design I realized that this was a boat that would work just as well in the day charter business down here in the Caribbean as well as opening up a market that is now mostly cattlemarans and and power boats doing the "three hour tour" two step.

The design could also be used for various pursuits outside the day charter trade as its open form allows it to be just about anything you'd want to do. For example as someone who has been part of the Caribbean film community for longer than I care to admit the first thing I thought of when I saw this design is what a great camera boat it would make with the added advantage of when not working on films or commercials it could still earn it's keep fishing, day charter, or being a dive boat between gigs.

I keep hearing about "working sail" making a comeback but Fast Eddy is the sort of working sail that makes real sense where niche markets and needs are the design brief.

While I've never been a big fan of steel or alloy boat building the lapstrake method used on Fast Eddy makes all kinds of sense and has me rethinking aluminum.

You can find more about Fast Eddy on the Dix website and blog which is well worth checking out.

Listening to Attic Lights

So it goes...

a tale of two scows...

Something about Rick Griffin worth reading, an article on the subject of invasive species, and in the "Well this is kind of depressing" department...

I've been watching the French designer Gildas Plessis and his ongoing efforts to make cruising scows a thing. His Scow 42 and 37 are both quite interesting and make a lot of sense. That said, both of those boats are bigger than I need so the fact that they now have a Sailscow 28 has me somewhat excited.

Better yet, it is available in kit form for those with a DIY bent. The only downside from where I sit is the fact that the rig is a lot less DIY friendly and you can spell that e-x-p-e-n-s-i-v-e. I'd really like to see an alternative rig for this puppy.

As it happens, I still have my set of plans for Yann Quenet's Skrowl 900 cruising scow and while a kiss longer than the Sailscow 28 at 29-feet and change it seems to be a better choice for my needs and wants.

Listening to Emily Kinney

So it goes...

some scowish curiosity...

An apt use of lyrics, some math I'm having trouble with, and this really got to me...

So, here's a boat I've been coming back to for a long time.

Reuel Parker's Junk rigged Scow 33.

Part of the reason I like this design is it's mostly lumberyard materials. Formply is cheap as it gets these days and my exposure tests had it as good or better than marine ply and a whole lot better than pressure treated exterior ply. Down here in southern-most tRumpistan a 3/4" sheet of formply costs less than a 1/4" exterior which would be a huge cost savings when you're buying 80-sheets or more of plywood.

So yeah, this is going to be an affordable boat.

Another reason I like the boat is its rig. I've always thought that the junk rig communities' collective phobia with jibs is somewhat problematic to performance. Lastly, while I'm a big fan of free-standing masts, I've come around to the conclusion that a little rigging combined with a beefy spar makes all kinds of sense in terms of weight and cost.

The interior accommodation in the design is what I'd call very comfortable for a couple living aboard full time.

Truth be told, I pretty much just like everything about the design as drawn. The boat is easily built of affordable materials and I know enough about to boats to know it will float right side up and do the job.

So, why haven't bought the plans already (well that's a little too complicated for the moment) and why am I going on about the design again?

Well, Mr. Parker said something interesting on his website recently...

"Because so many people have shown interest in it, I have designed a new interior for the SCOW 33 design, and upgraded the Plans and Construction Notes."

Which means I'd like to know what Reuel Parker's new interior looks like. That said, I don't expect I'll like the new interior as much as the original but I'm opened minded so we'll just have to see what we see. 

Color me curious.

Listening to the Hadestown

So it goes...

A sharpie schooner you can zen out to...

A comparison of note, interesting, and the most powerful man in the world running scared from high schoolers...

This is a Parker sharpie I somehow had not come across.

It's just seriously pretty.

It's a Reuel Parker 36 foot sharpie and it makes a lot of sense. Of course, by what we seem to think constitutes comfort and fashion these days, I'd expect not a lot of people would bother to look at it too closely. Pity that.

It's a boat that deserves a really long look because there is a a lot to learn from it and it is quite special...

Maybe you'll get it or maybe you won't but it's really well worth your time to see if you can figure it out.

Listening to AmirSaysNothing

So it goes...