Renewing a popular model is always a daunting task, especially when it’s been a bestseller for almost a decade, as was the case with the Oceanis 38.1. The challenge laid before the designers, Marc Lombard and Nauta Design, was clear: enhance volume and boost performance while preserving the ease of use that has defined the Oceanis line since its inception in 1986.

Beyond the elegant profile, the 37.1’s interior space in the salon is nearly as generous as that of a 40-foot vessel. The hull features a distinctive flare with a rib beneath, not only maintaining graceful lines below the waterline but also delivering increased power and stability. This design tweak also enhances the hull’s structural integrity, adeptly managing weight distribution and creating more interior space in the bow area.

Stepping inside the salon, we find a clever layout, slightly offset to port. It offers tremendous volume, complete with a cozy sofa and a spacious dining table accommodating six. This configuration seamlessly faces the galley, allowing the crew to go about their tasks without disrupting the dining area. Meanwhile, the passageway to the forward cabin is set off, completely obtrusive to guests. Generously sized portholes integrated into the hull side of the forward cabin provides excellent visibility and natural light. In the two-bathroom version, the bed is positioned against the starboard hull. The aft accommodations are equally spacious. In the standard version, there’s a king-size double bed and a substantial sail locker aft of the bathroom, accessible from both inside and out. Even in the three-cabin version, the bedding remains well-proportioned.

The sense of interior volume extends to the expansive and remarkably open cockpit, stretching over three meters in length. The outdoor living areas are designed to create a sense of openness, with a deliberate lack of backstays—a configuration previously employed on the Oceanis 30.1 and 34.1 models. When at anchor, access to the swim platform is easy. Simply lift the helm seats, and a broad walkway leads to the lowered platform, ensuring safety and making it a perfect spot for swimming and watching the world go by.

The large double spreaders (optionally equipped with an in-mast furling system) suggest impressive sailing performance for the Oceanis 37.1. In the standard version with a self-tacking jib, the focus is on making sailing more effortless, while those who relish spirited sailing will adore the First Line version with its square-top mainsail and Genoa (providing an additional 12 percent sail area). To facilitate easy handling by a smaller crew, all the rigging has been directed towards the two aft winches, with only the halyards remaining grouped around the coachroof. All the essential instruments, including a 7-inch plotter, are conveniently located on the starboard helm console.

In a nod to sustainability, the Oceanis 37.1 incorporates Iroko, an African wood that can substitute for teak, for its cockpit decking. This innovative approach, known as Iro-Deck, utilizes laminated layers to create each strip of plywood decking. This method ensures uniform coloration, excellent durability, and eliminates the risk of cracks, a common issue with solid wood decks.

Adapting to contemporary environmental challenges, the design team also addressed the 37.1’s power source. With a growing interest in carbon-free sailing for inland waterway cruising, this model offers an electric engine option featuring a 12 kW pod and 10 kilowatt-hour batteries. This setup provides a motoring range of 2 hours at 5 knots between charges, all while emitting no carbon and maintaining an eco-friendly silence.

Beneteau Oceanis 37.1 Specifications

The post Nominee Spotlight: Beneteau Oceanis 37.1 appeared first on Cruising World.

When France’s Groupe Beneteau purchased the Slovenian shipyard Seascape in 2018, it acquired designs, tooling and production facilities, along with a team of sailors who know how to build no-frills boats that are slippery and fast. And, yes, very fun to sail.

So much fun, in fact, that once Cruising World’s Boat of the Year judges named winners for the formal 2023 categories, we chose to conjure up a judges’ special recognition award for the First 36 as Best Sportboat. Our dilemma, you see, was that in the fleet of 17 sailboats we considered, there wasn’t really anything quite like the First 36 in terms of size or performance. But, oh, what a ride we had.

With about 12 knots of breeze blowing up a moderate chop, right out of the chute we hoisted a full main, set the big kite and were off, pegging 10 knots SOG on a broad reach. Later, in a bit more breeze and with the reacher safely stowed, we pounded upwind at close to 8 knots under the jib and single-reefed main. Big sail, little jib—it didn’t matter. The Jefa steering and twin rudders were buttery-smooth and totally in control.

Boat of the Year judge Herb McCormick noted: “This is a boat that was conceived ­working backward from the goal of a pure, unfettered sailing experience, and it fully delivers on that score. No surprise, our colleagues at the performance mag Sailing World honored it with their top Boat of the Year prize.”

Beneteau now has two First production lines, the First SE (SE stands for Seascape Edition and includes the former Seascape 14, 24 and 27) and the ­Beneteau-conceived First 44 and First 53 ­models. Like the First and First SEs up to 40 feet, the naval architect behind the 36 is Samuel Manuard. Design is by Lorenzo Argento (designer of the 44 and 53); structural details are by Pure Design & Engineering; and interior styling is by the Slovenian industrial design studio SITO. 

The idea was to build a boat equally adept at cruising as it is at doublehanded and club handicap racing. The trade-offs involved are immediately apparent when you step aboard through the First’s open transom and twin wheels. Removable cockpit boxes (with cushions) provide seating and storage in cruise mode, or can be left on the dock to make room for a racing crew. Hardware is all top notch, from suppliers such as Ronstan, Harken, Spinlock and Antal. The First even has fittings in the cockpit sole for a drop-leaf table that can come and go, depending on the type of sailing to be done.

On deck, jib sheets are routed through adjustable downhauls and inhauls that provide endless ways to shape the head sail. Forward, a 3-foot-3-inch composite sprit does double duty as an anchor roller and place to tack down off-wind sails.

The boat we sailed in Annapolis, Maryland, was fitted with the standard aluminum rig; a carbon-fiber mast is an option, as are several North Sails packages The First’s base price, posted online, is $260,000. But well fitted out, like the boat we sailed, a more realistic number is $350,000.

The First 36 is built using construction techniques in which all components are tied together to contribute to structural stiffness. Hull, deck, and interior bulkheads are vacuum-infused and cored to add stiffness and save weight. Furniture modules are also vacuum-infused and bonded to be part of the boat’s structure. Below, there is just enough wood used for fiddles and trim to give the interior, with LED lighting, a sense of warmth.

Beneteau initially offered just one keel configuration for the First, a 7-foot-5-inch ­cast-iron fin with a T-bulb down low. An option for a shoal-draft foil of 6 feet, 3 inches is in the works.

The builder also offers just one interior layout, with twin staterooms aft and a V-berth forward. There is a single head, also forward, that includes a shower, as well as a clever fold-up sink over the toilet to ­maximize usable space.

In the salon, an L-shaped galley with a sink, a two-burner stove and an oven is to port at the foot of the companionway; opposite is a sit-down nav station. In between, on centerline, there’s a stand-alone island icebox (a fridge is an option) whose top is at counter height, making it a handy place to set things down. Forward, two outboard settees flank a drop-leaf table. Both seats would make handy sea berths ­underway. As McCormick said, accommodations are more than ­adequate for spending ­extended time aboard, ­whether en route to a regatta or off coastal cruising on weekends or vacation. 

Here’s my take on the First 36: It might not be the boat for an owner looking for all the creature comforts of home in a dockside setting, but if the idea is to get out there and go sailing, well, it might be the ideal boat. 

Beneteau First 36 Specifications

Mark Pillsbury is a CW editor-at-large and served as a 2023 Boat of the Year judge.

The post Sailboat Review: Beneteau First 36 appeared first on Cruising World.

Bright and roomy down below and ready for business up on deck, the scrappy new Beneteau Oceanis 34.1 is a thoughtful model in a size range that often gets overlooked as builders and buyers go big (and bigger).

Designed by Marc ­Lombard, with an interior by Nauta, the 34.1 is the latest ­addition to the seventh generation of Beneteau’s ­Oceanis line of cruisers. The 34.1 replaces the 35.1 in the French builder’s lineup, and offers a bit more volume forward in the owner’s stateroom than its predecessor did, thanks to a flared bow and hard chines that run stem to stern. 

The 34.1 that made its North American debut at the Miami International Boat Show in February was the two-stateroom, one-head version, which should appeal to sailors who don’t ­necessarily want a crowd spending the night but enjoy occasional guests. A double-berth stateroom is aft, to starboard of the companionway. Just forward, the L-shaped galley has a two-burner propane stove and oven, refrigeration, and a stainless-steel sink. 

The boat’s head is opposite, with a separate stall shower aft. A door from there provides access to a workshop/stowage area under the cockpit (that area can also be reached from above, through a cockpit locker). The shower compartment and stowage area can be sacrificed to add a third stateroom, if desired.

The central feature of the saloon is a drop-leaf table flanked by two settees that would both make excellent berths for additional friends and family. The after end of the port settee drops down to make room for a fold-down nav station adjacent to the boat’s electrical panel. Forward, double doors to the V-berth can be closed for privacy or left open to enhance the sense of space below.

On the exterior, the deck is also well-thought-out. Twin wheels and fold-up helm seats allow for easy passage from the drop-down swim platform past the cockpit table to the companionway. The table can seat six for meals with its leaves up, and the benches to either side are long enough for a person to stretch out, if not lie down. 

The 34.1 comes with a few different packages and configurations. A base boat is priced at $192,000. This includes a traditional main, ­self-­tacking jib, single halyard/sheet winch on the cabin top, and 21 hp Yanmar diesel and saildrive. The boat in Miami had the optional 106 percent genoa, and upwind and downwind packages that added a ­bowsprit (set up to fly a code zero off-wind sail), a second electric cabin-top winch for hoisting the main, and winches at either helm to handle the ­genoa sheets. Rather than fairlead tracks and cars, the genoa sheets were led to adjustable friction rings, an arrangement I liked because of the ­control they give you to shape the headsail. My only nit to pick: I wish they had led the mainsheet aft as well. 

All up, including double 30-amp shore-power circuits (to accommodate the AC while at the dock) and an upgraded Yanmar 30 hp diesel and saildrive, the sticker on a boat similar to the one we sailed in Miami is $295,000, ready to sail away. 

Three keels are ­offered for the 34.1: a shallow (­4-foot-11-inch) cast-iron foil, which the boat in Miami sported; a deep (6-foot-7-inch) fin, also of cast iron; and what Beneteau calls a “performance draft” hydraulic retractable keel that draws 4 feet, 1 inch up and 8 feet, 4 inches down.

Both the traditional mast and optional in-mast-furling spar have an air draft of 51 feet, 1 inch, making them ­suitable for trips up and down the ­Intracoastal Waterway. The traditional mast has no backstay, and a square-top main is an option.

Under sail, the 34.1 handled like a sports car on a mountain road. The twin rudders provided good control and feedback, and visibility forward from either helm was excellent. In 10 knots of breeze, we beat ­upwind at just under 6 knots, and I saw the GPS speed jump to 7.8 knots when we bore off to a beam reach. A code zero and spinnaker are two ­additions I’d add to my wish list if I were buying the boat. They’d be a lot of fun on a long reach home.

Mark Pillsbury is a CW ­editor-at-large.

The post Sailboat Review: Beneteau Oceanis 34.1 appeared first on Cruising World.

Oyster Yachts collaborated with Humphreys Yacht Design on this elegant 50-footer, which focuses on couples and other shorthanded crews who are headed for bluewater adventures. An in-mast furling main and electric winches are standard, as are twin wheels in the cockpit, located a bit forward on the clutter-free deck. The 495 has three staterooms below. oysteryachts.com

With more than 15,000 J’s built since 1977, the team at J/Boats is now adding this 45-footer, which has a carbon, double-spreader fractional rig. The boat is built tough with SCRIMP resin-infused molding for the foam-cored hull and deck. Below, French interior designer Isabelle Racoupeau added an elegant touch to the decor. jboats.com

Bridging the gap between high-tech racing and performance cruising, the First 36 is designed to fully plane in a moderate breeze. Or, owners can ditch the racing gear altogether and take the family out cruising aboard the three-stateroom model, which has a galley and a central fridge. Part of the same model line is the First 44, which is available in a performance version with a different deck plan, and options for keels and masts. beneteau.com

Excess Catamarans in France, following up on the launch of the 37-foot Excess 11, has added the 52-foot Excess 14 to its model line. The boat has a low boom, reduced windage thanks to lower freeboard, redesigned hull windows, an aft-set coachroof, a forward stepped mast, a composite bowsprit and an exposed forefoot. Three- and four-stateroom versions are available with an option for a sky lounge. excess-catamarans.com 

With piercing bows and exterior lines drawn by designer Xavier Fäy, the Bali 4.4 has a forward cockpit with dedicated lounging and sunbathing areas, as well as separate interior access. There are living areas amidships and aft, and a helm station with panoramic views on the coachroof, accessible from both sides. bali-catamarans.com

Limited wetted surface and a generous sail area help the Italia 11.98 perform well, even in light air. This boat is designed for shorthanded ease of use. There are three staterooms below (one forward, two aft) and two heads. Owners also can outfit the boat with a full race package. italiayachts.com

New from this French builder of sailing cats is the Aura 51, which has an open living arrangement that connects the salon, galley and cockpit. The flybridge is big enough to accommodate 2,000 watts’ worth of flush-deck solar panels for sustainable ­cruising. The boat is available in four layouts, including a “full maestro” version that dedicates the port hull to an owner’s ­stateroom. fountaine-pajot.com 

The Dutch builder’s first aft cockpit model in the 50-foot range includes options for all-electric propulsion and sustainability. Living areas forward of and abaft the inboard twin helm stations create space for guests to spread out. The three-stateroom accommodations plan leaves space for a tender garage and a submersible swim platform. An integral carbon-fiber A-frame mast configuration has an incorporated hydraulic furler for easier off-wind sailing. contestyachts.com

The Dehler 46SQ strikes a balance between performance racing and relaxation. The ­redesigned cockpit is uncluttered, with fewer plastic parts and more elements stowed out of sight. An integrated footrest allows for extra comfort at the helm, and folds flush to the deck when not in use. There’s a remote-control-­operated swim platform for water access. For race days, owners have membrane sails and carbon rigging. dehler.com

The Dufour 37 is built to handle easy coastal cruising, ocean itineraries and performance sailing. The 37 is available in two- or three-stateroom versions, and the design emphasizes outdoor living, with extra space in the cockpit. The 37’s new hull form is built to deliver a greater power-to-weight ratio, and the mast has been ­elongated for increased sail area. dufour-yachts.com

Elan Yachts worked with Humphreys Yacht Design and the technical team at Gurit to create the 50-foot E6. The team used 3D Vail technology to enhance lightness and stiffness, and to optimize the hull with a T-shaped keel. Performance characteristics are the result of scale-model in-house testing with an Olympic sailing team. This boat is designed to be sailed by an experienced couple, with twin rudders and helms, and with Harken winches positioned for precision trimming and fast, unobstructed movements. elan-yachts.com

The GS40 from Grand Soleil Yachts is designed for speed and responsiveness without sacrificing volume and comfort. Multiple versions are available: performance, which includes four winches and a self-tacking jib; standard, with three staterooms, one head and a technical compartment for added stowage; and a three-stateroom, two-head layout. A 72-footer is also on the way. The builder says it will have an Italian aesthetic. grandsoleil.net

Swedish builder Hallberg-Rassy is premiering a sporty-looking 40-footer designed by Germán Frers. The HR400 has a sizable cockpit, and twin wheels and rudders. Owners can choose a slightly overlapping genoa or self-tacking jib, one or two heads, and a two- or three-stateroom layout below. hallberg-rassy.com 

The first of a new generation of B-Yachts, the Brenta 34 is billed as a luxury racer that can sail fast in all wind conditions, yet remain easy to handle with a crew or singlehanded. Performance comes from the boat’s light weight, minimalistic interior and sleek waterlines. Owners who want to use the B34 for cruising can opt for a removable cockpit table, spray hood, hot shower in the cockpit, and removable swim ladder. b-yachts.com

The Hanse 460 is the first Hanse yacht designed by French design team Berret-Racoupeau. Innovations include a hydrodynamic hull shape, a tall rig for a maximized sail plan, and a standard bowsprit with an integrated anchor arm. Accommodations can include six to 10 berths, with a roomy owner’s stateroom and an upsize galley. hanseyachts.com

Few builders are creating wood performance cruisers these days,  but Maine’s Lyman-Morse yard is. The cold-molded 46-footer is designed by Kiwi Kevin Dibley, and is fashioned from Douglas fir and western red cedar. Double headsails and twin wheels help make the boat easily capable of 10-plus-knot speeds, while the onboard ambience comes in part from Herreshoff-style white ­bulkheads and varnished trim below. lymanmorse.com

Following recent launches of the 60 and 65, Jeanneau now offers the Jeanneau 55, which is a collaboration between Phillipe Briand and Winch Design. Its dual-cockpit deck plan leaves the aft cockpit dedicated to relaxation, with the forward cockpit set up for handling. Below, the owner’s stateroom is forward and occupies about two-thirds of the interior. jeanneauamerica.com

The flybridge on the Lagoon 51 spans 80 percent of the coachroof, helping to create enough space on board for separate sunbathing and dining areas, roomy stern platforms, and more than 3,000 watts of integrated solar panels for greener cruising. The boat is available with three to six staterooms for private cruising or charter. To help with flow when more people are aboard, the salon has improved circulation with the mast set forward, which also increases the volume in the owner’s stateroom. cata-lagoon.com

The DS41 is a sporty design with a slender bow, steeply pitched stem, and convex sheerline. The hull windows and a sweeping roofline blend the deckhouse into the overall aesthetic for a one-level living concept. A high-performance sail plan helps with speed, while the minimalist interior belowdecks is warm and inviting. moodyyachts.com

The 44 Open is the first new Nautitech model in three years, and it focuses on the needs of private owners such as couples, families and other shorthanded crews. Naval architect Marc Lombard drew the slippery hull. The boat has a reversed bow, a boom mounted low above the coachroof, and a sweeping curve to the deck line. nautitechcatamarans.com

The Neel 43 is the smallest yacht in the builder’s lineup, but it’s built to be big on performance. Designed by Marc Lombard, the 43 is intended to be easily operable by a shorthanded crew. The helm station is to starboard with a triple seat for comfort and commanding views. neel-trimarans.com

The X4.3 underwent a serious makeover for 2023, essentially becoming a smaller version of the X5.6. The modifications are ­aplenty, including are designed hull shape with the max beam brought further aft and with soft chines, allowing improved downwind performance and a wider cockpit; a redesigned deck and deck liner; a new sprayhood layout for added protection from weather at sea and improved sightlines at the helm; and larger berths aft, thanks to a slight ­raising of the cockpit floor. x-yachts.com

Designed by Franck Darnet and Marc Lombard, the Privilege 650 is an evolution of the builder’s 640. New features include an adjustable interior layout, more windows and headroom, a redesigned foredeck and sun lounge, and an aft-facing cockpit lounge. The optional carbon rig adds 19.7 inches to the mast and 11.8 inches to the boom, adding 32 square feet to the genoa and 64.5 square feet to the mainsail. privilegecatamaransamerica.com

attention to making the onboard experience feel even roomier. For starters, the Oceanis 34.1 has more volume forward in the owner’s stateroom than the 35.1 it replaces in the builder’s model line. That volume is thanks in part to a flared bow and hard chines that run from stem to stern. On a larger scale, Beneteau’s new flagship, the Oceanis Yacht 60, has the same volume as the brand’s 62-foot predecessor. beneteau.com

The post New Boat Showcase 2023: Excitement Abounds appeared first on Cruising World.

Sailboats are getting ­bigger all the time. Gone are the days when a boatbuilder like Catalina would pump out hundreds of Catalina 22s in a ­production run that would last decades. Profit margins for ­builders are far greater with larger ­vessels, and more and more ­buyers—even first-time buyers who’ve ­never owned a yacht—are ­coming into the market searching for boats 40 feet or greater. It’s kind of amazing but also true. 

That’s why it’s interesting and exciting when production boats under 30 feet debut, and it’s even better when our Boat of the Year judging panel has a dedicated class of nifty new ­offerings to inspect, as we did for model year 2022. 

What’s cool about the trio of boats that comprised this year’s Pocket Cruiser/Daysailer ­division—the Tartan 245, ­­

J/Boats 28-foot J/9 and Beneteau First 27—is that each was fundamentally different than the others, designed with a specific purpose or sailor in mind. Our task as judges was to determine which boat best served its stated purpose. As a big bonus, all three boats were stout ­performers and a blast to sail. 

With no further ado, let’s have a look at them. 

Tough Little Tartan

My first thought when I peered into the cockpit of the 24-foot, Tim Jackett-­designed Tartan 245 was that it reminded me very much of my ­ancient Pearson Ensign, which debuted in the early 1960s. Like the Ensign, the 245 is an unabashed ­daysailer with a long, inviting cockpit; good stowage beneath the ­cockpit’s coaming; and a ­little cuddy cabin forward for ­stashing sails and duffels, and for a ­simple berth or head while camping-c­ruising. When I mentioned this to Cai Svendsen, who’d commissioned the design for use as a trainer in the Judd Goldman Center’s adaptive sailing program, he expressed his fondness for the Ensign and confirmed that he’d incorporated some of its features in the brief.

But the 245 is also quite different than the old Pearson in several important ways. First, it employs a lifting keel with 900 pounds of ballast—a significant number in a vessel that displaces less than 3,000 pounds. Draft with the board down is 4 feet, 6 inches; raised, it’s a mere 1 foot, 8 inches. With a kick-up rudder, this boat can traverse very skinny water and even nudge right up to the beach. 

Next, with his experience teaching sailing (novices are known to whack the occasional dock), Svendsen opted for a false, sacrificial bow that is bolted on. It can be quickly and easily swapped out if damaged (you can also spec the boat without what Tartan calls the “Crunchbow”). 

Finally, like its larger siblings in the Tartan clan, the boat comes with a carbon rig (deck-stepped on the 245, with swept-back spreaders). You can also order an optional retractable carbon bowsprit for off-wind kites or reachers. For motoring in and out of the marina, there’s a 4 hp outboard. The whole package can be easily towed by a small pickup or SUV. 

The profile is no-nonsense with just a hint of a sheerline, and with an open transom for safe and easy swimming (something I wish they’d thought of on my Ensign). Sail controls are atop the coachroof, and the cockpit is definitely roomy; it is meant to accommodate four students and an instructor standing aft. Available sail plans include a choice of overlapping headsails or a self-tacking jib. The whole idea is to make the boat simple and accessible, a fact underscored by its potential use in programs where a wheelchair can be rolled aboard. 

Svendsen was gracious enough to take us for an afternoon spin on Chesapeake Bay in a fitful breeze that never topped 10 knots. It mattered not a whit. The tiller-steered 245, with a simple tiller extension so you perch up on the rail with a grand view, was an absolute blast to sail, quite responsive, and surprisingly quick considering its diminutive stature. (The 245 shares this prowess with the many Jackett ­designs in the Tartan lineup.)

When we sailed right up to the dock and dropped the main, Svendsen left us with this accurate thought: “Little boats are where you have fun. Big boats are where you spend money.” 

He’s totally correct. With the Tartan 245, in the fun/cash quotient, the return on investment can be measured in miles and smiles. 

• $50,000
• tartanyachts.com
• 440-392-2628

Make My J

Everyone can agree on how ­awful the pandemic has been, but for fans of the sweet sailing line of J/Boats—designed and marketed by the Johnstone family for some 45 years now—the COVID-19 cloud had a silver lining. It was at least partially responsible for the creation of the company’s latest model: the simple 28-foot daysailer dubbed the J/9.

Company president Jeff Johnstone said that the inspiration for the J/9 came when the regatta season was canceled and he spent time sailing exclusively with his family on a 23-foot J/70, the only boat that was available. 

“It was the best summer,” he says. “No racing, just pleasure sailing. I rediscovered my joy for it. We got to the fall and started thinking about older sailors, this whole generation of baby boomers who might be getting out of racing but still want to sail. And we revisited the concept behind the J/100, a 33-footer that was ideal for a simple day’s sail.” 

The seed was planted; ­simplicity would reign.

As Johnstone says, all ­

J/Boats perform well under main alone. Having owned both a J/24 and a J/30, I can ­attest that the statement is without hyperbole. At first, the idea was to perhaps go with a boat driven solely by a mainsail. “But it didn’t take long before our sailing instincts kicked in and we wanted to go upwind,” Johnstone says. 

So the boat became a straightforward sloop with a furling jib. Hoist the main, ­unroll the headsail, and away you go. (A short, fixed sprit is available for those who must ­also fly a spinnaker.) 

As with the Tartan 245, the focal point of the J/9 is the cockpit, and it’s clear the team spent a lot of time considering it. (That said, the J’s interior is actually quite cozy, with a pair of settees and an optional V-berth forward; I could have a fun time aboard on a little camping-­cruising vacation.) Johnstone said that his team was enamored with and inspired by the Carl Schumacher-­designed Alerion Express 28, a fine little sailboat, but the Johnstones made what I consider a significant improvement by going with an open transom that airs out things aesthetically and makes practical sense as a perfect swimming/boarding platform. 

RELATED: 2022 Boat of the Year: Best Pocket Cruiser/Daysailer

The boat has a trio of auxiliary options: a basic outboard, an inboard diesel, or an electric Torqeedo Cruise 4.0 pod drive with a dual-blade folding prop that’s powered by a 48-volt, 5 kW lithium-ion battery with a 650-watt charger that can be plugged ­directly into dockside shore ­power. “It’s the first time in our ­history that we could offer an electric alternative at the same price as the diesel, not 20 percent more,” Johnstone says. “And talk about a simple ­installation.”

We sailed the J/9 on a cracking fall day on Chesapeake Bay in an ideal 10 to 12 knots, and man, it did not disappoint. As advertised, the layout is simplicity personified: one hand on the tiller, the other on the mainsheet. There’s no traveler, but the boom is controlled by an ingenious bridle ­setup. There’s a clear view of the B&G plotter on the coachroof, the solid Sparcraft vang aids in boom control, and lazy jacks for the main keep everything manageable. And the J/9 sails like a witch, notching just shy of 7 knots hard on the breeze, and topping that ­number cracked off on a reach. 

The joy of sailing, eh? Here’s your ticket. 

• $150,000
• jboats.com
• 401-846-8410

First Is First

When all was said and ­done, the winning entry in the ­Pocket Cruiser/Daysailer class was the Beneteau First 27. 

It was a tough call because the three boats were so apart from one another—not apples and oranges, but an apple, an orange and a pear. Yet the judges were unanimous in our choice, partly because of the Beneteau’s excellent fit-and-finish, and also because we felt it best-suited for what it set out to do. 

“The mission for this boat is shorthanded distance racing, and I think that’s really interesting. It’s probably the fastest-growing segment in the racing scene,” judge Tim Murphy says. “The idea is getting sailors in a competitive environment to really develop themselves as sailors. When racing, it’s not about comfort; it’s all about the sailor getting offshore and navigating and sailing overnight, and having the sail controls and layout set up to derive and maximize the power available in the boat, which is significant. It’s a tool for really becoming an experienced sailor. I think that ­mission is really strong.”

To underscore that point, our test sail aboard the First 27 was sensational, conducted in 10 to 14 knots of fine Chesapeake Bay wind, with speeds topping out at almost 8 knots hard on the breeze. We did 10 knots with the asymmetric kite up and drawing—it’s set off a retractable sprit—on a tight, close reach. The little rocket is a ball to steer, with a full-width traveler to dump the main in the gusts, and twin outboard rudders that really grip the seaway and offer pinpoint control. Remember, we’re talking about a boat shorter than 27 feet here. It provides the sort of performance usually reserved for craft with significantly ­longer waterlines. 

However, make no mistake—the First 27 is by no means a stripped-out, Spartan ­racing machine (well, at least the ­version we sailed; there are two models: one a dedicated racer and the racer/cruiser we tested). All the elements are there for real coastal cruising: a serviceable galley, head and berths, and a 15 hp Yanmar diesel. Yes, the boat was conceived for racing, but it’s also a quite adequate pocket cruiser as well. And on top of all that, it’s trailerable.

Built in Slovenia, the boat was originally marketed as the Seascape 27 before Beneteau acquired the company and rebranded the model as the First 27. Construction is top-notch: vacuum infusion with a PVC foam core, a laminate that’s light and strong. Nearly 1,350 pounds of ballast are incorporated in the lead, T-shaped bull keel (fastened to a steel blade), a significant figure in a vessel that displaces less than 4,000 pounds (the sail area/displacement ratio of 97 is not a typo). The idea was to instill super stability in a hull that planes, a concept that might seem diametrically opposed but works well in practice here. There’s even a little crash bulkhead forward. And all the related equipment is terrific: Seldén spars, Harken winches, B&G instruments and a Spinlock tiller extension, to name a few. 

There’s no question that this is an athletic boat to sail and operate, and plenty of adjustments in the rig and sail plan make it eminently tweakable. In other words, there’s nothing sedate about the boat underway. But the effort put in is returned with thrills in spades. For a certain brand of sailor, the trade-off and rewards will be more than worth the sweat equity involved.  

• $140,000
• beneteau​.com
• 401-990-0270

Herb McCormick is a CW editor-at-large. 

The post Boat Reviews of Pocket Cruisers and Daysailors: Tartan 245, J/9 and Beneteau First 27 appeared first on Cruising World.

Overall Winner and Best Full-Size Cruiser: Hylas H57

Peggy Huang and David Crafa accepted the award for Hylas Yachts for the Overall Winner of the 2022 Cruising World Boat of the Year. The Hylas H57 won the Best Full-Size Cruiser category, placing it in the running against all category winners for the major prize: the overall Boat of the Year. The Hylas H57 distinguished itself above and beyond the others and was named Best Overall.

Boat of the Year judge Tim Murphy had this to say about the Hylas H57: “This Bill Dixon design is a departure from previous Germán Frers-designed Hylas yachts. It signals a new trend: new look, new layout, new thinking. This is a 57-foot twin-rudder boat that displaces 57,000 pounds. They’re doing something that we’ve seen in a lot of new boats lately, a trend where there’s a separation between the social cockpit and the working cockpit, and well aft, a walkway down between the twin helms to the transom. It’s a good solution. It works.

“When you come alongside, it actually looks and feels a little like a catamaran.

It’s got a hard dodger built in, a very successful one, which I think is quite useful when you’re in the cockpit. Everyone wants to have shade and shelter from rain and the elements, and this is an excellent answer for that. By and large, this is just a very nice, functional cruising boat. The berths are big and luxurious, but they’re also set up for lee cloths. This is a boat meant to go places. And it’s lovely to be aboard. It’s just a very strong boat in many, many ways.”

Judge Ed Sherman noted: “The boat we sailed seemed like a test bed for systems the company is considering for future models. The owners have broad experience in offshore sailing and considered very carefully what they wanted in a large boat that can be easily sailed by a cruising couple. From the custom enclosure for the helm and cockpit area to the powered winches and video-camera repeaters at the helm station to confirm sail trim, I think they hit a home run. 

“Like other boats we tested in this size range, the builder employed a 24-volt DC electrical system, which dramatically reduces overall weight on a boat as systems-rich as this was. Additionally, the electrical-system design helped ensure that onboard systems would function regardless of global location: 120-volt/60 Hz or 230-volt/50 Hz, it didn’t matter; accommodation was made to cover all bases.

“On top of all that, it sailed well. I thought they did a great job in designing the sailhandling controls. It’s all right there near the helm, and it worked well. I liked that. It got my vote.”

Judge Gerry Douglas noted: “The performance of the boat was terrific. It tacked through about 50 degrees, which was outstanding for a boat that big. It was always sailing at about 60 percent of the windspeed, which for a big, heavy boat like that was impressive. Regarding the boat’s ergonomics, every place to sit was comfortable. You had good seatback support and nothing awkward to step over. All the companionway steps were of equal size and worked well. It was just a really easy boat to get around. All the seat dimensions in the interior were correct. We’ve seen so many boats where that’s not the case. It was really comfortable to sit in. And you can imagine sitting there reading a book for hours and not feeling like you’re sitting on a park bench. 

“I voted for the Hylas because I think it was probably the most different from any other previous boat that the company has produced. It’s the first one that appealed to me personally. There’s a lot of content there and the price point—in retrospect, in view of all the prices of the boats in this year’s contest—is pretty reasonable. I never thought I’d say that a boat worth 2 million bucks was reasonable, but it is.”

2022 Boat of the Year: The Contest and Winner

Beneteau First 27: Best Pocket Cruiser/Daysailer

The Beneteau team, including Tomo Novak, Head of Sales, Seascape; Eric LeVine, Sales Manager, Beneteau; Andraz Mihelin, Founder, Seascape; Aurore Bordage, Marketing Manager, Beneteau, accepted their award for the Best Pocket Cruiser/Daysailer for the winning Beneteau First 27. The First 27, a sporty racer/cruiser, boasts all the amenities necessary for weekend and coastal voyaging: a serviceable head, galley and berths, and a Yanmar diesel. In other words, a couple could easily liveaboard, rather than camp, for short periods of time, but they could also expect to be serious podium contenders should those outings involve a regatta. In the end, when deciding the winner of the Best Pocket Cruiser, it was the little things that swayed the judges. “The fit-and-finish for the price point is at a different level,” judge Gerry Douglas said. “The equipment level was higher.”

2022 Boat of the Year: Best Pocket Cruiser/Daysailer

Leopard Catamarans Leopard 42: Best Cruising Catamaran (Under 50 Feet)

The Leopard Catamaran team, including Michael Robertson, Designer, Robertson and Caine; Theo Loock, CEO, Robertson and Caine; Franck Bauguil, VP Yacht Ownership and Product Development; Alex Simonis, Naval Architect, Simonis-Voogd Design; Peter Robertson, VP Sales, Robertson and Caine; and Josie Tucci, VP Charter Sales and Marketing; accepted their award for the Best Cruising Catamaran (Under 50 Feet) for the Leopard 42. 

From the proven partnership and collaboration between South African builder Robertson and Caine and the Moorings, the judges felt the Leopard 42 is an ideal platform for private ownership and/or bareboat chartering. The judges found much to like about this latest Leopard, including the offset steering station to starboard and the lounge space forward accessed via a front door in the saloon. But the Leopard sealed its victory with an awesome sea trial in which it overhauled and passed a popular new monohull. What put the boat over the top wasn’t just the sailing performance, which was obviously terrific, but also the tools with which to sail the boat, and its overall deck layout, all of which optimized the experience. Judge Tim Murphy said, “With the Leopard, you have visual eye contact from the raised helm station to starboard down into the cockpit, you’ve got a visual line of sight into the saloon, and you’ve got a pretty good visibility over the top of the cabin top everywhere. You had access to your main sheet right there where you needed it. This was one of the boats that had no traveler, but instead had a windward and leeward block on the mainsheet. I think that’s a fine system, I like the control you have. Jibing works fine and is easily controlled.”

2022 Boat of the Year: Best Cruising Catamaran (Under 50’)

Balance 482: Best Performance Catamaran

Mark Delany, Balance Managing Director; and Phil Berman, Balance Catamaran President received the award for the Best Performance Catamaran, for Balance Catamaran’s Balance 482. Quick, fast and fun, the South African-built Balance 482 is a cat that will get up and go, but offers plenty of comfort once the hook is down.

“The sailing performance was excellent,” said judge Gerry Douglas. “The boat felt really good. The steering was terrific. The structure of the boat throughout was exemplary. Storage is really good. Visibility was good. Ventilation was great. There was even a rain collection system on the cabin top, which is the only one of the boats we looked at had that. It was very well concealed because the gutters formed a handhold going forward. The solar panel installation was also well done. The panels were encapsulated into a fiberglass tray that elevated the deck so the panels wouldn’t overheat. Very clever.”

The driving force behind Balance cats is Phil Berman, a world champ at racing beach cats who brought that passion to developing and marketing fully found cruisers. Judge Murphy knows him well: “Phil comes from a very strong view of wanting to see boats that have solid sailing performance. He’s also a strong proponent of daggerboard boats, which tends to be quick shorthand for the dividing line between cats that are more about payload versus cats that are about performance, but not so much where you’re going to fly a hull or break a rudder. There’s a balance within a boat that really performs that you can still live aboard.”

2022 Boat of the Year: Best Performance Catamaran

Xquisite X5 Plus: Best Cruising Catamaran (Over 50 Feet)

The Xquisite crew of Tamas Hamor, CEO; Stephen Joyce, Global Service Manager; and Sara Hajdu, Xquisite Charter, were on hand to accept the award for the Best Cruising Catamaran (Over 50 Feet) for the Xquisite X5 Plus. A unique cruising cat with cool features galore and an impressive commitment to customer service, the Xquisite X5 Plus won the judges over. This is a dedicated cruising cat, through and through. And there’s much to like about this 53-foot South African-built product. For judge Tim Murphy, the important details weren’t necessarily the ones you could easily see, but rather the ones you couldn’t. “What I was most struck by on our tour of the boat was actually the service side of the whole equation,” he said. “There are 40,000 man-hours invested in this boat. And you can see it—those are solid hours of labor. One thing that was pointed out were two different marks on the heads of bolts showing they were torqued. And part of the Xquisite program is they spend two weeks with each owner, training them up with systems. All told, this is really one strong product.” 

Judge Ed Sherman agreed: “The business model here is exemplary. What they’re really doing is emulating the high-end automotive market. I think they looked at the automotive sector for high-end cars like BMW and Mercedes and said, ‘OK, this sounds good, it looks good, and we’re going to do it, too.’ And they are. So, I think that that aspect of his business plan where they’re training the owners and then doing things like loading the boat up with spare parts as part of the original purchase, I mean, hats off to them. It’s a great way to go. How can you argue against it?”

“I couldn’t find anything that was done halfway,” said Gerry Douglas. “It was done better than you’d expect it to be, just because they wanted the boat to be perfect.  And the quality of construction is excellent. It’s an infused hull but with a hand-laminated deck because there’s so many very tight corners and cavities. They didn’t think they could infuse that without adding a whole lot of weight. And I get that. So, they would hand laminate it, which makes sense when you have some of the very sharp corners that exist on that boat. It was all just perfectly done.”

2022 Boat of the Year: Best Cruising Catamaran (Over 50’)

Kinetic KC54: All-around excellence took the judges breath away

Kinetic CEO Bob Hayward and Collin Marshall, Boat & Sailing Systems Engineer,

were on hand to accept the award for the Kinetic KC54. The Kinetic KC54 received a Special Recognition award. The Kinetic KC54 is a fresh entry in the cat universe and a new player in the class of what might be called Super Cats, the progenitors of which are notable brands like Gunboat and HH Catamarans. These light, fast craft put a high premium in flat-out performance, but also have the cool, comfortable, contemporary features and amenities of a stylish, forward-thinking cruising boat. They are, in the realm of performance cruisers, at the very cutting edge. Judge Tim Murphy got right to the point: “This is a fairly new company that was started within the past couple of years. My breath was absolutely taken away by this boat; it was spectacular. I think it was the best-built boat in the entire fleet. It’s an all-carbon boat, with a foam core, epoxy resin, all infused–fantastic. The whole boat felt integrated. You didn’t feel like there was a conflict between the forces in terms of accommodation versus performance.” With a price tag approaching $3 million, it perhaps should not be astonishing. That was a major factor in evaluating the boat, and while it did not win its class, the experts panel did present it with a Judges’ Special Recognition prize to honor the boat’s overall excellence.

“It was my personal favorite in this year’s contest,” said judge Ed Sherman. The materials that were used are absolutely the highest quality available in our industry at this point, and it’s a very high-tech boat in terms of systems.” Judge Gerry Douglas was also duly impressed: “This was the Tesla of sailboats. I think that that was their model. In terms of design and execution and technology, it hit all three of those marks. This boat is built without compromise, and what it cost was not an issue, they just wanted to do the best they could in every aspect of the boat. The construction was impeccable, the fit and finish was amazing. There are some very clever design things in the boat, but it all really worked seamlessly.”  

2022 Boat of the Year: Special Judges’ Awards

The 2022 BOTY Contest

The 27 entries—the largest BOTY entry list in many years—were ultimately broken down into eight categories, with the 16 monohulls distributed over five divisions ranging from 24 feet to 67 feet in size, and with prices ranging from $50,000 to $4 million. Meanwhile, the 11 nominated catamarans were grouped in three classes: two based on size and a third focused on performance. And talk about an international gathering! Builders from no fewer than nine nations were represented: the US, France, Germany, Holland, Italy, Slovenia, South Africa, Sweden and Taiwan. 

Boats tests were divided into two parts: onboard inspections that took place on the docks at the US Sailboat Show in Annapolis, MD., in October; and at-sea sail trials conducted in the days immediately following the boat show.

Judges chose winners in eight separate size- and/or purpose-related categories. Just for good measure—because they were suitably impressed by their excellence—they also presented a pair of separate awards to boats that deserved special recognition. 

The post Cruising World 2022 Boat of the Year Winners Celebrate Their Awards at the Miami International Boat Show appeared first on Cruising World.

From the very beginning, nearly 50 years ago, Cruising World has kept an open mind as to exactly what constitutes cruising. For some, it might mean circling the globe under sail alone. For others, lowering the mast and motoring through America’s rivers, lakes and canals to complete a Great Loop fits the bill. Some seek long bluewater passages, others are content to gunkhole along a lakeshore in a shallow-draft vessel, sleeping under the stars on a cockpit bench or tucked under a boom tent should it rain.

And likewise, since the inception of our Boat of the Year contest a quarter century ago, we’ve asked our independent team of judges to evaluate a wide range of boats and measure them against their stated design brief. It’s not every year that our experts have the opportunity to inspect a category of nifty, smooth-sailing vessels under 30 feet, but for 2022, there was a trio of modestly sized smart, cool boats to put through their paces. The only problem? Each model was designed and built with a vastly different purpose (and sailor) in mind. 

The Tartan 245 was originally conceived as a training boat for sailing schools. J/Boat’s J/9 is an unabashed daysailer, meant to provide exciting spins around the harbor, even under mainsail alone. And, the Beneteau First 27 is fine-tuned to deliver performance, and definitely lives at the racier end of the spectrum. 

The judge’s task? Decide which nominee came closest to fulfilling its stated purpose.

Let’s begin with the J/9. It’s simple. It’s fun. It’s a totally enjoyable, stress-free sailing experience that can be easily handled by any sailor looking to enjoy a breezy afternoon. And that’s just what the crew at J/Boats was striving for with their new 28-foot daysailer. 

In promotional materials, the company asks, “Is this the most comfortable cockpit ever?” And the answer, after sailing the boat on a blue-sky Annapolis day, would have to be yes. There is plenty of room for a couple of couples to sit comfortably. But the tiller and its extension also allow a singlehander to sit forward and easily reach the jib sheets, led to winches on the low-profile cabin top. Aft, there is even a small swim platform and ladder for when the time comes to douse sails and enjoy a dip on a hot afternoon.

Described from the get-go as a “daysailor,” a small cabin has room for an open V-berth, a couple of settees, a head, and space for a small portable cookstove and cooler. 

Underway in 10 knots or so of breeze, the boat was quite well mannered, even with the jib furled. Judge Tim Murphy notes, “The design writ started off with it being a mainsail-only boat, and then it ended up having a headsail too. But it’s really mainsail-driven. And the big drawing point is the huge cockpit. We sailed the boat under main alone, and sure enough, you could go out for an afternoon with just the main and have a time for yourself. The cockpit is perfect. It really is the strongest part of the boat.”

With the Tartan 245, longtime Tartan naval architect Tim Jackett, who’s now practically synonymous with the brand, was originally asked to design an easily handled, simply laid-out 24-footer that would be ideal for sailing lessons. 

What he came up with is a delightful little boat that does all that and more. Longtime aficionados of the Carl Alberg-designed Ensign will recognize several features from that classic daysailer (the sailor who commissioned the 245 had a soft spot for Ensigns). The long and spacious cockpit, the tiller steering and the handy cuddy cabin are all perfect. What separates the designs is the Tartan’s lifting keel, which makes it versatile and trailerable. 

If the J/9’s focus is on simple sailing, the Tartan’s aim is to give students the ability to tweak sails and rig to their hearts’ content in order to learn big-boat handling and racing skills. Numerous control lines are led into the cockpit from the base of the mast, and aft, there is a beefy backstay adjuster.

The boat that the judges sailed in Annapolis was a demo boat for a local sailing school, and was stripped out inside, except for a cushion for the V-berth. But the owner’s plans included towing the boat back to his home in Florida, where he’s contemplating loading aboard a port-a-potty, cooler and stove, and possibly sailing it across to the Bahamas. Outfitted as such, it would be a sporty little vessel for exploring shallow-water venues between the cays.

With two boats that so closely hit the bullseyes described in their design briefs, there was one boat left to assess, and in the end, the Beneteau First 27 turned in a performance that insured it would sail away with the pocket-cruiser hardware.

Built in Slovenia and, before undergoing a branding and systems revamping by Beneteau, this sharp, tidy “sport cruiser” was known as the Seascape 27. By any name, it delivers thrilling performance in a compact, well-reasoned package. 

While the Seascape 27 was originally conceived as a major player in the ever-expanding world of doublehanded offshore racing—CW’s sister publication, Sailing World, tested and rewarded that boat—the cruisier version was reintroduced this year with several tweaks and the new moniker: First 27. And as a racer/cruiser, it boasts all the amenities necessary for weekend and coastal voyaging: a serviceable head, galley and berths, and a Yanmar diesel. In other words, a couple could easily liveaboard, rather than camp, for short periods of time, but they could also expect to be serious podium contenders should those outings involve a regatta.

In the end, it was the little things that swayed the judges. “The fit-and-finish for the price point is at a different level,” judge Gerry Douglas said. “The equipment level was higher.”

The post 2022 Boat of the Year: Best Pocket Cruiser/Daysailer appeared first on Cruising World.

The executives, design team, and craftsmen at the sailing division of Groupe Beneteau have made some interesting, innovative, and even surprising decisions ever since a regime change took place in the marine conglomerate’s upper-management ranks a couple of years back. This was clear from last year’s launching of Beneteau’s First Yacht 53, a sleek and powerful performance cruiser with the contemporary lines evident in the latest offerings from the top European naval architects. Now the company is continuing its ongoing design evolution with its latest dedicated cruising boat, the Oceanis Yacht 54. We tested the boat this past fall on a gorgeous day on Chesapeake Bay with a Beneteau team that couldn’t have been more excited about its potential, and deservedly so. It’s a rangy, clever, impressive yacht.

Over the years, when testing Beneteaus, we’ve become accustomed to reviewing the work of the crème de la crème of the leading practitioners of French naval architecture. So one of the first surprises with this new 54-footer is its design collaboration between a pair of Italians: architect Roberto Biscontini, a veteran of several high-profile America’s Cup campaigns who created the hull, and Lorenzo Argento, the stylist behind many high-end Wally Yachts, who designed the interior layout and accouterments. The Oceanis Yacht 54 actually borrows the basic hull platform from the earlier First Yacht 53, but make no mistake about it: This is a completely new and fresh vessel.

In profile, the Oceanis Yacht 54 is a handsome, purposeful-looking craft. The plumb bow and equally vertical transom maximize the long waterline. A nifty fixed bowsprit is home to the ground tackle and serves as a potential launching pad for reaching sails. There’s a trio of horizontal windows in the hull to port and starboard that look smart and provide natural light and cool ocean views to the interior. The low coach roof slopes forward and transitions to a flush deck forward of the mast. The main feature that links it to the range of Oceanis sisterships is the cockpit arch over the companionway, which anchors the double-ended mainsheet and, on the boat we tested, is the structural centerpiece of a superb Bimini aft and an excellent dodger forward. We’re talking serious shade here.

The cockpit itself is pretty astounding and is a focal point of the design. In 2021, we’re seeing a trend to separate the helm and working sailhandling stations from a dedicated social area free of winches and sheets, aimed purely at comfort. This Oceanis Yacht 54 does this as well or better than anybody. A Beneteau rep referred to this, alternatively, as a “terrace by the sea” and a “rethinking of the center-cockpit” layout. OK, I’ll buy that. There certainly is a lovely, natural, unimpeded flow in the open aisle from the companionway aft, through a passageway between the twin wheels, to the drop-down transom with teak decking that serves as both a boarding/swim platform, and the door opening to a dinghy garage capable of housing an 8-foot-2-inch RIB. The designers clearly feel this big back porch will be the spot where the crew congregates and spends a lot of time, both underway and at anchor, and there’s no question that it’s a very inviting space.

Interestingly, there are no hull chines on the boat, a feature Beneteau introduced with its innovative Sense line that has become ubiquitous on contemporary production cruising boats. The chines were billed as something that would promote stability under sail, but they also expanded interior volume and made for roomier accommodations. Then again, with a 16-foot-5-inch beam, the interior of this yacht is already plenty voluminous.

When it comes to accessing the deck from the cockpit, the Oceanis Yacht 54 has borrowed an idea from its Groupe Beneteau stablemates at Jeanneau, with a slight alteration. Moving forward is a simple matter of stepping outboard from behind the helms and onto an ample side deck, protected by a big bulwark, that gradually rises and transitions into a couple of steps that guide you onto the foredeck. True center-cockpit designs are notorious for the sometimes-difficult gymnastics it requires to step out of them. This is a very elegant solution. Scattered about the teak decks are a quartet of sun pads for spreading out when the hook is down.

There are many, many options to consider on this vessel. For example, take the three different auxiliaries: an 80 hp diesel in a saildrive configuration; a 110 hp engine with a traditional shaft; or Beneteau’s proprietary Dock & Go docking system, a 360-degree rotating pod coupled with a retractable bow thruster that permits the driver to spin the boat in the tightest of spaces. Two rigs are offered: a standard in-mast furling spar measuring just under 79 feet, or a performance stick with a full-batten main and a towering air draft of 85 feet. Likewise, the cast-iron keels, with affixed bulbs, are available in a standard deep version (8 feet, 2 inches) or an optional shoal-draft (6 feet, 7 inches) package.

The boat comes with a full suite of B&G instrumentation, which is as good as it gets, and a standard, proprietary “Ship Control” feature that allows you to monitor and control all the boat’s systems, autopilot, tankage, and so on via a monitor, a tablet, or an app. We’re talking thoroughly modern here. The fiberglass construction is straightforward and employs a balsa core from the deck rail to the keel, as well as an aluminum subfloor that provides structural rigidity to the yacht.

The accommodations and furniture below are clean, contemporary and striking; the Wally influence is clearly very much in play. The standard wood employed is walnut Alpi, which I found hard to beat. There are two floor plans, both of which have a generous saloon and a large owner’s cabin with an en suite head forward and twin, double staterooms aft; a choice of two or three heads are the difference between them (the third head tightens up the galley, to port, opposite the navigation station to starboard). The three-head layout also provides for a tight captain’s quarters in the bow, a space that is otherwise reserved for a giant step-down locker for sails, fenders and such.

We sea-trialed the boat in fairly perfect fall Chesapeake conditions: bright sunshine, blue skies and a sweet, ideal southwesterly of 15 knots or so. And I can state unequivocally that the Oceanis Yacht 54 is simply a blast to sail. The helms are equipped with comfortable seats. All running rigging is led below the deck to winch stations within arm’s length of the wheels that provide ready access to sail trim; this is a boat laid out well for shorthanded maneuvering (the Harken AST system, which stands for “assisted sail trim,” is optional). Upwind, the easily tacked 107 percent genoa further facilitated the easy operation, but the real fun began when we cracked off and unrolled the powerful code zero headsail and cleaved through the small chop effortlessly. The boat was fitted with an impressive suit of excellent sails from French sailmaker Incidence.

With the Oceanis Yacht 54, Beneteau has tacked off on a slightly different but very smooth direction. It’s clearly evident in this distinctive design.

Specifications

Length Overall: 56′2″ (17.2 m)

Waterline Length: 50′6″ (15.4 m)

Beam: 6′5″ (5.0 m)

Draft: 6′7″/8′2″ (1.85/2.49 m)

Sail Area (100%): 1,227 sq. ft. (114 sq. m)

Ballast: 9,918 lb. (4,498 kg)

Displacement: 36,586 lb. (16,595 kg)

Ballast/Displacement: 0.27

Displacement/Length: 127

Sail Area/Displacement: 17.8

Water: 190 gal. (720 L)

Fuel: 106 gal. (250 L)

Mast Height: 78′9″ (24 m)

Engine Specifications: 80 hp Diesel with Saildrive

Designer: Biscontini Yacht Design – Lorenzo Argento (Interior)

Price: $875,000

Sea Trial

Wind Speed: 14 to 15 knots

Sea State: Moderate

Sailing: Closehauled 8.3 knots – Reaching 7.5 knots

Motoring: Cruise (2,300 rpm) 8.4 knots – Fast (2,800 rpm) 8.9 knots

beneteau.com

Herb McCormick is CW’s executive editor.

The post Beneteau Oceanis Yacht 54 Boat Review appeared first on Cruising World.

I had a small adventure of the grandest kind in November 2019. I arrived by air in San Carlos, Mexico, where I launched my Beneteau 361, Liberte, into the northern Golfo de California, better known, perhaps, as the Sea of Cortez. For the next 10 days I sailed alone through one of my favorite cruising grounds on the planet. § The sailing began, like many good trips, with a pre-dawn start. I woke at 0344, just before my alarm. The tools of the trade lay where I’d placed them: headlamp, life jacket, personal locator beacon and harness. By the headlamp’s red light, I started the Yanmar engine, readied the North main and hauled the Manson anchor, all familiar allies I’d been away from for too long.

I paused for a moment to take it all in. There were dark cliffs on either side, with the sharp smell of guano from the rocks. The moon was just setting, and by its pale light I could make out the twin peaks of Mount Tetakawi above.

Six days earlier, Liberte had been high and dry. With help from local contractors—along with fellow sailors who were kind enough to offer rides to town—and several days of my own sweat equity, she’d been prepped, polished and provisioned. Liberte’s hull now wore fresh coats of Ameron ABC 3 antifouling paint, with extra layers at the leading edges and waterline.

I’d slept the first night on board in the yard, climbing a ladder, happy to find that my boat had weathered summer well under the landscape fabric for shade. There was the anticipated layer of Sonoran dust on deck. Below, everything was just as expected. I’d bought Pollo Loco chicken for the painters, and I took the leftovers down to the guard shack. The night guard and I spoke primitive Spanish, sat on overturned buckets and ate with our hands, watching bats fly out of the desert. We saved scraps for the boatyard cat.

After paying all those dues in boat bucks and labor (one boat buck = $1,000), I relished my first evening on the hook. My neighbor was an Austrian named Peter who’d just bought an Endeavor 35 and was as stoked as can be. I paddled over to his pride and joy, where we sipped well-aged tequila with sailors from around the world. It was a nice welcome back to the cruising life.

Now in the dark I waved at Peter’s boat as I passed; nobody stirring at this hour. I booted up the iPad mini, and a chart came to life. Time of departure: 0400. I hoisted the main hand-over-hand, leaving one precautionary reef. Today’s job was to take Liberte 74 miles west across the Sea of Cortez.

A wave rocked the boat. An inland sailor in summer, I felt my body adjust to the motion. More waves came, refracted around the headland, and then gusts of wind in the dark.

I grinned. Lately I’d made a point to pay close attention, moment by moment, to everything, including my response to those things. Sailing was a way to hone that attention. When I felt unsettled, I’d grin and be grateful. I’d look at everything, as author Betty Smith says, as if seeing it either for the first or last time. What was I grateful for right then? Freedom to move. The consistency of water. This boat and the ability to guide it.

Onward, then, trimming the main to the new wind as I cleared the point, looking back at the lights of shore, just once, then ahead into trackless waters, pretending I was bold Joshua Slocum off to hurdle the globe. Or any adventurer from the books I adored as a boy. I don’t lay awake longing for Arctic ice or infamous capes, but I’m crazy for outings like this. I love the planning, the preparation and the little voyage itself. Being solo, I was discovering, further sharpened everything.

A beam wind now, and I could unfurl the jib and shake out the main. The boat felt great in my hands. The wind instruments were acting up again, so I sailed seat-of-the-pants, sensing subtle changes and responding. I kind of liked it this way anyway.

Just days ago, these sails were in bags, lines bundled, Liberte lonely and landbound. Now she was on the move again, at play in the elements, and I was fortunate to be along for the ride. I shut down the engine, and it was just my boat, the wind and me.

Land was shrinking astern, with all its information, obligation and illusion. Now the only thing was to coax the boat along her cantering path and stay connected with her. Alone, with thousands of feet of water below me. Destination: unfamiliar.

Now was as good a time as ever for dread. Or, instead, to allow that separation from shore to strip away all the detritus of ordinary life.

I took some sharp breaths into my belly, ready for action. I checked on my little realm: harness clipped like I promised my sweetheart, sails trimmed and pulling nicely, lines flaked, and autohelm steering the proper course.

What would my mentor Gartly do? He’s the pied piper who first lured me to sea; he’d told me last night when I texted him my float plan, “Enjoy the stars.”

So I did. I stretched out on my back, hands laced behind my head, and contemplated the unspoiled night sky. I gazed up at Orion, Taurus, and those lovely and coy Pleiades. Then I saw a UFO. At first I thought it was a satellite, but it was moving way too fast. It stopped, jumped and stopped again. Then it was gone.

Dawn came under the clouds and painted the edges of everything. I grinned again, this time from genuine pleasure. After 15 years and plenty of cruising miles, I knew this boat profoundly. All her parts and pieces held their stories. I’d learned my way through systems stem to stern, and the rest would be on the punch list soon enough.

How beautifully she purred along! I knew better than to touch a thing. Instead I did some shadow boxing and cockpit calisthenics. I thoroughly enjoyed a bowl of homemade granola that had been tucked into my sea bag, my girl’s loving way of keeping some meat on my sailor bones.

The wind was remarkably steady, the right choice made to sail today on the tail end of a norther, between too much wind yesterday and none tomorrow. I felt, as always in prime conditions, as though I were getting away with something.

The sun paced me lazily behind clouds. Land began to appear in floating specks—there in the corner of the eye; gone if you looked right at it. I saw no garbage and no other craft, just the faint smell of an oil rig on the wind for a long time before I could hear its far-off rumble.

I shouted poetry to the clouds and belted vintage songs in a voice that would have scared Tom Waits. I considered, one by one, the extraordinary people I have been so fortunate to know. I thought about those I love and have loved, their presence close out here in the empty reaches.

The north wind was a steady companion, and Liberte ticked off 1 nautical mile after another. I was pleased to see stretches of 7-something knots for speed—a good day in any small cruising boat. I took the helm sometimes for the sheer fun of it. The only time I changed gears was for a couple of slow-moving rain clouds. “De rain kill de wind,” as the Bequia sailors used to say.

And then, there it was, the intended harbor, and I performed the rituals of arrival. A look at the charts, the dowsing of sails, and I glided into the wide and placid protection of Bahia Santa Inéz. The anchor touched sand at 1600 hours. A textbook passage, which is not always the case. The boat rocked gently as I tidied up the deck, lovingly rubbing down my little steed after such a fine gallop.

The sunset was transcendental. It began with chiaroscuro effect through the peaks of the Sierra de la Giganta. Then the light turned gold and slowly purple as beams shot skyward. That sunset continued to reach out across the water until it had engulfed my sailboat and me in an overwhelmingly beautiful moment. I forgot every bit of time, boat bucks and worry I’d spent to be here. I simply was.

For the next week or so, I stayed in that blissful state. I slept when tired and ate when hungry. Doing my simple boat chores, I chopped wood and carried water, as the Zen koan goes.

Heading south down the Baja coastline, there were dozens of great anchorage options. There are no ocean swells in the Sea of Cortez. The wind waves can be steep during winter northers due to fetch and current, but this time of year, I had stellar weather. I sailed every day on the afternoon sea breeze. I saw dolphins off the bow, whales in the distance and rays jumping out of the water.

It had rained more than usual recently, and the mountains were as green as I’d ever seen them. In San Juanico, a splendid anchorage of rock spires and long empty beaches, I rambled into the hills and found the desert full of life. There were flowers everywhere, along with butterflies, bees and birds. An osprey had nested on a strategic outcropping, the best real estate in the bay, and was working the shoreline for fish.

At Isla Danzante, near Loreto, I was tickled to find my favorite anchorage open: a one-boat corner of Honeymoon Cove. If I weren’t in an alternate reality already, this place sealed my fate. I spent hours clambering mindlessly around, watching the light change on the desert and the sea. Thumb-size cactus thrived in the cleft of a rock, and fish bones lay where something had made a meal.

There was another boat around the corner, and normally I would have stroked the paddleboard over to say hello, but I didn’t want to break the spell.

I saw huge schools of baitfish flashing in the clear water, with roosterfish hitting them from below while pelicans dived from above. Most days I could empathize with those fish, but today I simply felt a part of it all—predator, prey and curious observer at the same time. Cormorants took off, leaving dark rings in their wake. A yellow-crowned night heron waited. I was hopelessly enthralled.

Truth be told, I was perfectly at peace doing absolutely nothing there. I had guests to pick up soon, but I waited as long as possible. That last night at the island, spent with just the critters and me, will be with me always.

As I chugged toward nearby Marina Puerto Escondido the next morning, I saw that I had come full circle.

This harbor was the first place I’d ever stepped foot on a cruising boat. As a young man, I’d coaxed a battered Toyota pickup down Highway 101, stacked it high at San Diego’s chandleries, and hauled my contraband south to meet Gartly’s Cal 34, Marlin, at this very seawall.

From here, I’d helped him prep Marlin and sail her partway across the Pacific. My life had never been the same. In good times and bad on boats, I can always blame Gartly for that.

“Back to the scene of the crime,” I said out loud to nobody.

I realized it had been a while since I’d talked to anyone but birds and dolphins. Maybe I was due for some human contact. I swung the bow toward what we call civilization.

After several seasons of East Coast cruising, David Kilmer and Liberte are back in Pacific Mexico.

The post Solo Sailing on the Sea of Cortez appeared first on Cruising World.

Should I stay or should I go?

This punk-rock anthem to ­indecision seems written especially for cruisers. As each season winds down, one query tops the usual weather-and-repairs ­yammer in every port: “So, where you guys headed next?”

When my wife, Rebecca, and I sailed from the Pacific Northwest in 2009, that answer was south, at least to start. Each winter we pushed farther on Liberte, our Beneteau 361, lured by monkeys, waterfalls and that age-old temptation of new horizons. Liberte dawdled through Costa Rica and Panama, through the Panama Canal, and on to Guatemala’s Rio Dulce, Belize, Florida, Cuba and the Bahamas. And boy, are we glad we did.

But by our third season in the Bahamas, when that destination question arose at a farewell dock party in Green Turtle Cay, Rebecca and I knew our answer. We wanted to sail with humpback whales, anchor under mountains, enjoy endless blue skies and temperatures in the 80s, and yes, eat tacos and salsa on street corners. We missed the weather, people, food, cost of living, landscapes and sea life of Pacific Mexico. We wanted to go west.

And how tantalizingly close it was. Just 36 hours by car from Fort Lauderdale to Puerto Vallarta, or a mere three hours and 46 minutes in an airplane. But certainly not by boat. So, what was the best way back? My impetuous side wanted to cast off the lines and see how far we’d get. That approach had worked before and likely would again. But over the seasons and miles, I had learned to eliminate all the variables that I could. And I knew firsthand that the return route had variables aplenty.

Coming to the East Coast, Rebecca and I (and friends as crew) had mostly enjoyed solving each aspect of our voyage with a can-do attitude. We’d run the gauntlet of Tehuantepec and Papagayos winds, dodged (and once hit) unlit pangas in the dark, threaded miles of fishing longlines, and piloted Liberte through a Salvadoran surf break to shelter. What was then novel and exciting now seemed like one obstacle after another.

We could also hire someone else to take Liberte around on her own hull. The cost would include delivery crew and provisions, fuel and Panama Canal transit fees, engine hours and boat wear and tear, along with extra dollar signs if Liberte was struck by the frequent lightning in Panama or nailed one of the giant logs that flood down those Central American rivers when it rains. It was back to the same unknowns with someone else making midnight make-or-break decisions.

What about shipping overland? Truckers informed me in a variety of regional dialects what I was up against. For most, our humble boat haul sounded as though it was more trouble than it was worth.

“You say you’re 12½ beam?” (I could literally hear head scratching.) “Yeah, I’ve gotta get an extra escort, and that’s more bucks per mile. Call my buddy, maybe he can help you.”

What if I sailed the boat to Galveston, just 1,345 land miles from San Carlos, Mexico?

“It won’t make much difference; I’ll charge about the same. Mexico you said? I don’t deliver into Mexico. Best I can do is drop you off in Tucson at Marco’s crane, and they put you onto another truck going south.”

How much was that truck going south? How much did Marco want for his crane? The more I tried to engineer a solid route with a budget, the more uncertainties arose. I could truck from Cancun to Puerto Vallarta, but throw in insurance, as well as decommissioning and commissioning, and we were back to square one. My most desperate hours were spent chasing some ghost who, rumor had it, wrangled boats over the mountains of Guatemala. By this point, I wasn’t sure I wanted Liberte going anywhere at 65 mph, scooching under trees and bridges, bouncing over train tracks, vibrating things loose on her merry way. The savvy sailors who reported good outcomes by land spent days of prep unstepping the mast, and wrapping, securing, and otherwise protecting their pride and joy. I admired their work…and I wanted to avoid most of it.

So, for simple math, less labor and a straightforward outcome, we bet our money on shipping Liberte back west by sea.

Though research dredged up horror stories of boats held for ransom or dropped in the wrong port, I was pleased with Sevenstar Yacht Transport’s reputation and happy they were going our way. Since the Florida to West Coast routes are busiest after the Miami International Boat Show in February, our haul would likely happen in late February or early March. The next trick was entwining our tiny boat with this juggernaut of international shipping. From its Amsterdam headquarters, Sevenstar directs a fleet of 120 transport boats, shipping 1,500 yachts a year up to 60 meters and 650 tons.

“We must be the smallest thing on your ship,” I told our agent, Lauren.

“We handle boats of all sizes,” she answered, quite diplomatically.

The agreed-on price for little Liberte was $15,000 from Palm Beach to La Paz, Mexico, which by my uncertain math was not far off the other options and may have had them beat. This we wired in advance to Deutsche Bank AG, a small fortune gone forever from the cruising kitty.

RELATED: Sailing to Mexico with the Baja Ha-Ha

Shipping by boat, the mast could stay in place, a real selling point. Our contract included loading, lashing, discharging and transport insurance, as well as a cradle to hold Liberte. (Three months later, the Baltic 130 My Song fell overboard in transit, blamed by shipper Peters & May on a bad cradle supplied by the yacht owner.)

When I asked Lauren for her advice on our travel plans (we had roughly three weeks to spend while our boat moved without us), she emphasized flexibility. One contract line in particular caught my eye: “Demurrage, Euro $15,000 per day.” It was an understandable yet terrifying penalty for failure to load or discharge on time, and I realized we didn’t want to miss either date with the Dutch ship.

Rebecca worked out travel solutions. As soon as Liberte was loaded, we would book the next flight to easy-to-reach Mexico City to enjoy culture and food, knowing that daily AeroMexico flights went to La Paz. Lodging was made flexible along the way.

You can bet Liberte arrived plenty early in Palm Beach. After a delightful romp of a sail up from the Keys, we came through the tidal waves of Lake Worth Inlet in the dark and anchored in West Palm. It’s not an entirely straightforward anchorage, but one that did the job, especially with reciprocal privileges at the Palm Beach Sailing Club a short dinghy ride west. All day we watched the nicest yachts in the world slide by, headed for Rybovich SuperYacht Marina. We knew our own mothership would be the 465-foot M/V Marsgracht, bound from Europe, and it was exciting to see her AIS signal steaming our way across the Atlantic at a steady 14 knots or so.

Timing is tricky in this business. Email updates qualified our shipping dates with “AGW WP,” shorthand for “All going well, weather permitting,” and added this disclaimer mariners can appreciate: “Estimated arrival times are taken in consideration of weather for the period of the year and port operations on route.” No kidding! It’s amazing shippers could make these myriad gears mesh at all.

To prep Liberte for ocean transport, we stripped her bare, as we do each season for summer layup. Rebecca and I flaked and stowed sails, and removed wind-­generator blades, Bimini and dodger. We even wrestled the deflated RIB belowdecks, a disappearing act that amazes us each time.

The morning of our loading on February 24, we came about as close to a fight as we have in all our miles at sea. This amid a slapstick scene of trying to lash tarps on deck in a gusting breeze, since I seemed oddly and suddenly paranoid of finding Liberte covered in black soot from the ship’s engines. Separation anxiety, one surmises.

And then it was our turn. Since Marsgracht is the kind of thing we spend night watches avoiding, it was surreal to come alongside a piece of steel this big. We appreciated the settled sea state and still wished we had bigger fenders. The shipboard crane moved overhead. There were divers in the water and a loadmaster above. Men swarmed our deck with an air of easy competence. I knew we were in good hands when they belted out disco songs and debated who had the best-looking socks (as they respectfully pulled off their shoes). While I disconnected twin backstays to make way for the lift cradle above, the Kiwi loadmaster eyeballed our patchwork of tarps and shook his head.

“I’d get those off if I were you,” he said. “They’ll just go in the first blow anyway.”

So Rebecca and I hopped to it, ripping away hours of work in a couple of minutes and giggling to ourselves. Then we grabbed our backpacks and boarded the pilot boat; Liberte was now someone else’s job.

The crane groaned, straps tightened, and up she went. It was incredible to see the size difference between the two boats as Liberte flew higher than she’d ever been in her life. We climbed on Marsgracht to reattach backstays and close up our boat. Sparks flew as Ukrainian welders secured the steel cradle. I found myself testing the straps holding Liberte to the deck. Nope, skipper, time to step away. Just pat your boat on the backside for luck and remember to give the hatchboard key to the crew in case customs wants to see inside.

The rest of the day I had that ­incomparable finish-line feeling I so love from boat-delivery and ocean-racing days gone by. I was wind-blasted and satisfied, the buzz of accomplishment balanced nicely against weariness in muscle and mind. While we sipped a celebratory drink with friends and then jetted away, Liberte went back out to sea. And as we prowled the trendy Condesa neighborhood of Mexico City, Liberte steamed on night and day, around Cuba and south at speeds she’d seen only briefly when surfing big waves in following current.

By the time she made the Panama Canal, we were swinging in a hammock above the lovely lake at Valle de Bravo without a care in the world. I was so relaxed that I snoozed through her rapid canal transit, in contrast with the weeks of work and waiting it had taken us going the other way.

And only a boat owner can know the irrational joy of reunion. It was March 14 in La Paz, exactly as promised, and there she was, 17 days and 4,000-odd miles on, waiting patiently beside her mighty friend.

The Yanmar fired up, and we motored to nearby Marina Costa Baja. Despite my worry, there was not a speck of soot in sight. (It helped that Liberte rode in the front of the ship, forward of the stacks.) Only one thing was amiss: A prong of aluminum toe-rail chock had broken off. I put it in my pocket.

“If that’s the only damage, I’ll gladly keep it as a souvenir,” I said.

Twenty-four hours after we took possession, our boat was rigged and ready, a Mexican courtesy flag hoisted into the perfectly blue Pacific sky. A local agent recommended by Sevenstar handled our clearance, made simpler by the fact we still had our 10-year Temporary Importation Permit from clearing into Ensenada in November 2009. Thanks to our agent, we had time to enjoy the swimming pool, and in the evening walked the malecón and nibbled street corn with cotija cheese, mayo and chili. It was a fine reentry.

On our crossing to mainland Mexico, our old friends the humpback whales swam past to say hello. South of Cabo Corrientes, Rebecca landed a hard-­fighting Pacific jack, and we gratefully ate sea-to-cockpit-table that night under another explosive sunset.

It came down to a rapturous realization when we dropped anchor off a fishing village, watched the light fade on the mountains and heard the pure, high notes of a mariachi trumpet from shore.

It was good to be home again.

David Kilmer spends his summers running the 60-foot daysailer Sizzler in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho, and his winters cruising warmer waters.

Tips To Ship

• Find a company with a good reputation that specializes in the route you want. Be flexible on origin and destination if you can.
• Get a contract sorted well before ­shipping, with exact measurements of your boat’s LOA, beam, height overall (bottom of keel to top of mast) and all-up weight (not tonnage). Ensure that customs papers are in order for origin and ­destination. Ask the shipping company for reputable local agents.
• Empty tanks, but leave enough diesel for loading and unloading. Remove sails, canvas and other items on deck. Cover Dorades and hatch openings, and secure all hatches. Wax the stainless. Some ­owners shrink-wrap their boats. Make sure you have big fenders on all sides of your boat and long lines handy.

The post Shipping a Cruising Boat appeared first on Cruising World.