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Slogging to
Windward
by Chuck Merrell
Feedback can always be emailed to:
sloggingtowindward@hotmail.com
October 2001
WANT TO BUILD A BOAT?
WHY NOT DESIGN IT TOO?
Part One - Introduction
(Part Two)
Existentialism is a 20th Century philosophy that views the
individual as being alone in an indifferent and even hostile universe. In
that context, the existentialist would define life as the organism's
ability to struggle against its environment--a paramecium beating its
flagellum. Can't struggle? End of the road.
In this case, the organism under examination is the amateur
boatbuilder as related to the question: Why do we build boats when it's
easier and cheaper in many ways to just go out and buy one? Most amateur
boatbuilders irritated wives have no doubt asked that question more than
once, I suspect, and probably will again a million times during the next
millennium. Of course, when asked (usually right in the middle of applying
epoxy) the answer given is to mumble something about "saving money" which
is a reply no wife in her right mind dare debate, (though probably
inaccurate) followed by: "Here, can you stay and hold these two pieces of
wood together for a while? Don’t move." (It’s a good ploy for clearing the
shop area of said semi-irate interrogator).
The real answer though (once we figure out a boat type thingy
which floats is a better solution than swimming for crossing the waters)
is: self-sufficiency. Sure, one can just go out and buy a boat, if one is
available and for sale, but knowing how to build a watercraft from basic
materials could possibly get you out of a shipwreck situation when the
island boat store doesn't exist. Not such a far out concept--that answer
certainly worked for Captain Joshua Slocum.
Knowledge, like how to build a boat, really is adding another
skill to the mental library; an arrow in the quiver to shoot at the
hostile universe--self-sufficiency = security and the search for security
seems to be a major component of life occupying most of our time. It's a
prudent effort, which separates the squirrels from the grasshoppers. It's
akin to the idea of saving money when it'd be so much more fun to trot out
and spend it.
So we rationalize why we do what we do. We rationalize
everything and have one to cover just about every desire. In fact,
rationalizing must be more important than sex, because it's seemingly
impossible to go for even a couple hours without having one. My favorite
is: "I'll just be hungry later, so I might as well eat now!"
Anyway, we finish the canoe or whatever, try it out, it works
and we feel better for a minute than we did when we succeeded in making
fire at Boy Scout camp by using friction. Then two things happen . . .
"New boat syndrome" starts tweaking the edges of the mind. When
acknowledged, thoughts turn into the search for a new, improved boat
thingy. (Rationalization: "I need to use these expensive tools to build
something else.") Once a boat plan is identified and the mental conjuring
begins, the average guy hopelessly smitten by "the bug", starts thinking
about modifying the plan to suit his needs and desires. Then the giant
killer thought rides in roughshod: " . . . wish I could design my own . .
. and, (rationalization) besides knowing how to design my own boat would
give me more information and add another layer of self-sufficiency, which
would enable me to struggle against the environment better, etc. etc.”
(Oh, by the way, insert divorce scenario right about here).
So, if you're still with me, we've traveled the road from
Existentialism to learning defensive boat design. The purpose of this
column (and the ones to follow) will be to give a few tips to help you get
on that merry-go-round.
Before I bow out for this month, let me talk a bit about
designers, sailors, boatbuilders and cookbooks.
The two factions most interested in boat design are sailors and
designers, with the boatbuilder group thrown into the mix as a wild card.
These three form a rather strange triumvirate because in general sailors
often think they know more than designers. Boatbuilders sometimes don’t
much like either of the other two except as they provide employment (or an
enjoyable hobby). Designers seem to think they know more about the field
than the other two, and probably most of the other “so called” designers
in the world as well.
Probably closer to the truth is: Sailors usually don’t know a
lot about design because they’re busy being the end user—sort of like most
car drivers don’t know much about automotive engineering. However, (often
to their detriment) their erroneous conviction that they do know design
increases with the amount of time spent out there on the Briny Deep (or
behind the wheel). The designers on the other hand often don’t have as
much experience as the end user because most of their time is spent
indoors creating boats, which is why so many boats are fundamentally
identical in design philosophy, if not in appearance. The name of the game
is: “design the same boat and but make it look different and more
appealing than last years model”. Fashion Design is the analogy that comes
to mind. And of course, professional boatbuilders are a bit like
seamstresses; they just want to do the work and get paid and hopefully
have weekends off.
Once in a great while, you have a well balanced individual who
understands all three disciplines and those guys are the best. Reuel
Parker, of the more modern school, is such a man. The type of boats he
prefers and the dictates of the region in which he sails, designs and
builds boats are his only limitations, if he has any. Olin Stevens is
probably the grand daddy of those from that mold. He is a good sailor, a
great designer and fully knows how the things are put together.
Designing a boat from a technical standpoint really isn’t all
that difficult, once you learn the system and sequence of the operation.
On the other hand, doing a great design takes talent and hard work. The
technical part of boat design, while dealing with numbers and engineering
drawings and all that kind of scary stuff is pretty much a cookbook
proposition which can be learned and you don’t necessarily need to be
numbers nerd to get the job done.
There are many tools out there both free and reasonably priced
to make amateur boat design easy when done using the computer you have
right in front of you. I’ll discuss those and their use in the next
column. However, while you’re waiting, here’s a list of books you can pick
up either new or if out of print, used, or from the library which will
start you cooking and also help you struggle against that hostile
universe.
Designing Small Craft by John Teale (1976), David McKay
Company, Publisher. This is a good introduction to the process,
and probably available in libraries or used bookstores or on the Internet.
Designing Power & Sail by Arthur Edmunds (1998) Bristol Fashion
Publications, Publisher. Mr. Edmunds is a very competent designer and has
been for 30 years. This book is well worth having and will give you an
excellent grounding both in the process and the technicals involved.
Principles of Yacht Design by Lars Larsson and Rolf E.
Eliasson (1994) International Marine, Publisher. Here we have an
excellent text with numerous examples, BUT it’s also pretty rough going
because of its highly technical nature. Very detailed.
Skene’s Elements of Yacht Design (Revised) by Francis S.
Kinney (1973) Dodd, Mead, Publisher. For a long time this has been
the basic text most think of when the subject of design comes up. I’ve
never been much of a fan of this Kinney version even though I use it
constantly. There is lots of good information here, but it’s poorly
organized and in some cases dated. The book is hard to find used, but you
should buy it if you find one. Otherwise, the library is the main source.
Elements of Yacht Design by Norman L. Skene. Now
reprinted and available, this valuable text of 1948 edition was the sixth
and the latest until this reprint, the first having been published in
1904. In his new introduction, maritime historian Maynard Bray says that
it employs the same engineering principles and mathematics as are used
today, the writing is succinct, and it a classic only available
occasionally through rare-book dealers. Skene (1878-1932) was a foremost
American yacht designer of his day. Recently reissued in paperback, is
worth having and priced right.
I’ve scanned the first chapter from my 1938 copy and you can
read it at this web page and order the reprint from that page from
Amzon.com if you like.
https://www.boatdesign.com/skene/
Let me also take this opportunity to wish you a happy new year and hope
it’s better than 2001 had been for all of us!
(Go on to Part Two) |
