Why a Core Sound 20? When I first decided I wanted to sail again, I began to look at boat types with an eye toward acquiring a used boat. The 21-foot Sea Pearl by Marine Concepts caught my eye because of an article I found on the web by a guy who'd done so, then sang the praises of his boat. I spent time poring over the Marine Concepts site and then started pricing them: a pretty rare boat it seemed, and too dear at my pay grade. When I began looking to build rather than buy, the Sea Pearl's cat-ketch rig stayed in my mind, and I was led to B and B Yacht Designs, where Graham Byrnes designed the Core Sound series. An article there about a couple who sailed the Sea of Cortez (see Baha Cruise on the B&B site) seemed absolutely idyllic. (And they were botanists!) His article "Why a Cat Ketch?" and a brief email exchange sealed the deal, and I started cleaning the garage and building early in August of 2004. Thirteen months of neglecting job and family later, The Beatrice Ann was launched and the adventures began. See the Build photos in the album.
After a little adventuring, it became clear I needed a cabin to get gear and crew out of the spray and rain and wind. There were a few years of experiments with temporary shelters, before I bit the bullet and added a permanent one.
Folks wanting to build biggish boats are often advised to build a small one first, maybe as a tender. This gives a taste of reality, builds needed skills, and provides a boat that's likely to see as much or more use than a bigger boat. I somehow missed this advice, and so did things backwards. After much time spent rigging and unrigging (I never seem to be able to match the folks who can get away from the ramp 15 minutes after they arrive), I decided I wanted a small but capable boat that could be car-topped and launched without a ramp. My choice was Jim Michalak's Piccup Pram (see his design page on Duckworks), which he designed to be the best boat he could get into the bed of his pickup truck. She is a capable little boat, though with her flat bow she hates a steep chop and nearly drowned us on a day in the open bay when power boat traffic was heavy. As a car top boat she's a 112lb bear (to be fair, I overbuilt her somewhat), although the wheels I devised do allow her to move over reasonably smooth ground. In the end, she is not much quicker to rig than the big boat. I do love her balanced lug, and I've considered changing the big boat over to the same rig. Bebe has her place in the fleet, having journeyed up the Providence River in one adventure, and drifted down the Taunton in another.
My daily commute has long taken me along a stretch of the lower Taunton, and I love to watch her moods and imagine sailing on her. This daily idyll was one of the reasons I got back into boating. But sailboats have limitations in the narrowing waters of a river: a paddling boat is more appropriate. On one election day a few years back--a day I had off but my kids didn't--I took the inflatable kayak for a 4 mile ride on the flood up a part of the Taunton, then walked back for the car. It was a magical trip, showing me a river I could never experience from shore, and it decided me on building a proper kayak. Again I turned to B&B Yacht Designs for their "Birder." I planned to build a two-man and a single seater both, knowing I could seldom get away alone, but I never quite got around to the single. (Eventually the wood I bought for it became the cabin on the big boat.) Although heavy compared to some plastic boats, and long enough to be unwieldly, Serendipity has an honored place in the fleet. She has served both as tender to both the Beatrice Ann and the Surprise, she is also an adventure boat in her own right, and has plied much of the Taunton and Assonet rivers, and will go much farther. Her name evokes wonderful discoveries unlooked for around the next bend.
I began meditating on an enclosed boat after a summer so wet that there wasn't even enough sunlight for our garden to produce a decent tomato crop. I seemed always to be wet that summer, and vowed to try a "birdwatcher" style boat to see if that suited me better. My wish was for a Caroline, Jim Michalak's first attempt at a coastal cruiser. I also bought plans for Matt Layden's bullet-proof Paradox, the cruiser's microcruiser--even though I knew it could never sleep more than one in any comfort. Both of these would be expensive and time-consuming builds, and I wasn't ready to risk all that time and money on a concept I hadn't even experienced: sailing from inside. The easier, cheaper Michalak "Jewelbox Jr" was to be the proof-of-concept boat. She was to be ordinary exterior ply. She was far and away my fastest build yet: 3 months from start to launch (though details like slot covers would consume a further month or more).
Surprise, named for Captain Aubrey's beloved little frigate, proved a good sailor despite (because of?) her peculiar shape. Like the Bebe, she doesn't much like chop, and buried her nose scarily downwind in a stiff breeze until I closed up her bow anchor well. She is no open water boat, and will never take me to places the big boat will. But she is dry as a bone, shady and roomy. She is also self-righting from a 90 degree knockdown (a good thing, since I seem to capsize her regularly!) Her enclosed hull works as advertised, enabling me to be fairly comfortable on a December river trip last year. With this winter's modification--a berth flat suspended at about deck-height--she will sleep three, enabling me much freedom when planning excursions. I expect to go places in her.
Chuckanut 12 Skin-on-frame kayak Musketaquid
Contracted to plan and run a kids boat-building summer program, I took the opportunity to try out an idea new to me: a skin-on-fram kayak a bit like those original Eskimo kayaks. The one I built for myself (for "practice," of course!) became Musketaquid, after the boat built by my new buddy Henry David Thoreau. Musketaquid is an Indian word for "grass-grown river"--their term for Thoreau's own Concord River. She was baptized in the Concord in the fall of 2013. She was designed by Dave Gentry.
Boughten Boats
Two store-boat boats complete the fleet: a Sevylor inflatable kayak (named Rubber Ducky) provides a packable tender that has freed me from the need to anchor the bigger boats very close-in for getting ashore. And a super-cheap light-weight plastic kayak (named Speedbump) makes a great tender when single-handing, as well as enabling me to take a relaxing and hassle-free afternoon paddle. It also allows me to take bigger groups on kayaking expeditions: if Rubber Ducky were pressed into service, I could put at least five people in kayaks simultaneously (six or seven if a couple were small).
Update: in the spring of '14 I lost Speedbump. (Don't ask.) My birthday present was ToyBoat, an eight-foot plastic kayak that can be stuffed inside even my little hatchback. (Overheard at the ramp from a little girl: "Mom, is that a real kayak?") It barely floats my fifteen-stone bulk and is tippier than I'd like, but the idea that I can literally go paddling on the spur of the moment makes the boat worth it.
