To say that French shipyard Fountaine Pajot has a long and varied history is to traffic in understatement. Founded in 1976 by a quartet that included Olympic sailor Jean-François Fountaine and offshore racer Yves Pajot, the company initially specialized in racing dinghies and IOR-rule monohulls. It later delved into large, record-setting transoceanic catamarans and trimarans. It wasn’t until 1983 that the yard pivoted to cruising cats, beginning with the Louisiana 37. In the four decades since, Fountaine Pajot has produced more than three dozen models, many named after the destinations or islands that inspired them: the Tobago 35, the Saba 50, the Eleuthera 60 and so on. 

Which brings us to model year 2023, and the US introduction of Fountaine Pajot’s Tanna 47. Named for a South Pacific island in the Vanuatu chain, the 46-foot cat earned top honors as the Best Cruising Multihull in one of the stronger classes of the 2023 Boat of the Year contest. I served on the judging panel, and I have to say, the Tanna 47 is probably my favorite boat in the entire FP line. It’s structurally sound, fairly techy and good-looking, and it sails very well. 

Nowadays, the naval-architecture office of Jean Berret and Olivier Racoupeau—the team responsible for designing the Tanna—seems to be ­everywhere, but has a long connection with Fountaine Pajot, having designed the Marquises 53 way back in 1991. The Tanna replaces another Berret-Racoupeau collaboration, the Saona 47, which had a production run of 150 boats. On the Tanna, there are plumb bows that max out the waterline, a pair of windows in each hull, a nifty wraparound coachroof window, and a raised helm to starboard topped with its own Bimini. The aesthetics are clean and crisp. A big upgrade from the Saona is the expanded lounge area on the flybridge with a sundeck and a settee (a signature Fountaine Pajot feature). There’s also an inviting sun pad on the main deck just abaft the trampolines. 

Another positive aspect cited in our Boat of the Year deliberations was the versatility of the two available ­accommodations plans. The Quintet layout, with five ­double staterooms and five heads, is optimized for charter or a growing family. The other layout, called the Maestro, zeroes in on private ownership with a large owner’s stateroom that includes a vanity, desk and en suite head in the port hull. Two double-berth guest staterooms have their own heads in the starboard quarters. 

The central saloon is the same in both versions, with the highlight being the commercial-­grade U-shaped galley to port adjacent to the cockpit’s sliding doors. An efficient and dedicated navigation station is to port, within a few short steps to the raised wheel. The couch and lounging area in the main cabin is sumptuous and welcoming. So too is the dining and seating arrangement in the cockpit; covered by the flybridge, it’s an all-weather space for kicking back or entertaining. 

The resin-infused construction employs a balsa core for a relatively light but solid structure. The standard engine package is a pair of 50 hp Volvo Penta diesels with saildrives, but our test model had the upgraded 60 hp options. At 2,700 rpm opened up, the boat made a solid 9 knots, which was the second-fastest ride in the entire Boat of the Year fleet. 

Another notable feature is the array of flat, flexible Solibian solar panels that are essentially glued to the cabin top. On our test boat, they produced 1,700 watts of electricity—enough to run the primary systems (electronics, fridge, air conditioning) all day long. Fountaine Pajot is serious about addressing environmental concerns in the marine sector, and recently announced the formation of its ODSea Lab and initiative, a platform meant to accelerate technological progress with regard to materials, renewable energy, and electric ­propulsion. The goal is net-carbon-­neutral boatbuilding by 2030, with all-electric models as an auxiliary option across the brand.

Happily, we had just about ideal conditions to conduct a test sail, with 13 to 15 knots of solid breeze coursing across Chesapeake Bay. The Tanna’s primary power source under sail is a traditional, generous, roachy full-battened mainsail, augmented by a high-cut and slightly overlapping jib. Upwind, the boat achieved a tidy 6.5 knots, which ratcheted up to a solid 7 knots once cracked off to a reach. The steering was smooth and even, and driving the big cat was a lot of fun. 

Cat designers have given a lot of thought to sailhandling systems, with separation between the helm and the winches and clutches often being a high priority. I like the Tanna’s setup: a dedicated pod forward of the helm with all the controls, including a set of Lewmar electric winches, ready and at hand. The visibility, of both the seaway and the sail plan, is terrific. For shorthanded sailing, punch the autopilot and step into the pod to make adjustments. It’s simple and elegant at the same time. So, there you have it. The Tanna 47 isn’t just named for that slice of Pacific paradise; it actually has the chops to get you there.

Fountaine Pajot Tanna 47 Specifications

Herb McCormick is a ­yachting correspondent for The New York Times and former ­editor-in-chief of Cruising World. An author of five ­nautical books, he’s owned several sailboats, including his current Pearson 365 and Pearson Ensign.

The post Sailboat Review: Island Bound on the Fountaine Pajot Tanna 47 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.

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.

For the past several years, practically all of the design surprises that have caught my eye on new sailboats have been abaft the mast. In no particular order, these innovative features include hull chines, twin rudders, pop-up TVs, house-style refrigerators, galleys forward in the saloon, sinks and grills on the stern, sun beds between a ­monohull’s twin wheels, and lounges on the coachroof to either side of the companionway. Some of these make the boat sail ­better, while others make it a more comfortable place to enjoy life on the water.

But this past fall, it was the pointy end—or, should I say, the not-so-pointy end—of the Bavaria C38 that stood out. It made an impression from above, as I looked across the broad foredeck, and down ­below, where the builder’s in-house team and Cossutti Yacht Design somehow found a way to install a king-size berth in the owner’s stateroom, while still leaving room for a hanging locker and a head-and-shower compartment, all forward of the mast.

For a decade or more, even as beam measurement amidships has steadily increased and been carried aft to allow for ever more spacious twin staterooms, most boats still have been built with a bow that’s shaped like an arrow point. The Bavaria V-bow, as the company calls it, has a more radial shape and ­hullsides that flare out above the waterline, creating all that living space in the interior. 

In a briefing with CW’s Boat of the Year judges, a ­company representative described the 38 as a family coastal ­cruiser. I thought that design brief seemed pretty accurate as we went through the boat, and later took it out for a sail. If kids and their friends are the crew, you could pack a pile of them into the two aft cabins, and the dining table in the saloon drops down to form a third double berth. And they could all share the head and shower compartment to starboard, at the foot of the companionway. Meantime, mom and pop can escape to the big forward stateroom. 

The forward stateroom’s en suite head compartment does cut into a corner of the berth, but couples who plan to only occasionally have grandkids or friends aboard can ­forgo the forward head. They also could turn one of the aft cabins into a workspace or stowage, which is standard.

In all three configurations, the saloon stays unchanged. A settee, with a nav desk forward of it, is to port, opposite the dining table and a U-shaped, cushioned seat. The tabletop folds open to handle a crew of six or more. Abaft the ­settee is an L-shaped galley with a sink, fridge and three-burner gas stove. The boat we visited ­also had a microwave. Stowage seemed adequate for coastal-­hopping, and the counters had fiddles to keep things from sliding off when heeled.

Topsides, the cockpit ­coamings make good backrests on the benches forward of the twin wheels. The seats are a bit too short for sleeping, the judges noted, but stepping out over the coamings isn’t ­difficult when headed forward.

Having owned (and ­sanded and varnished) a boat with exterior wood handrails and trim, I appreciated the C38’s low-maintenance exterior finish. The raised bulwarks and deck are fiberglass, and handrails on the cabin top are stainless steel. The only exterior wood is on the centerline table in the cockpit. That table’s after end doubles as a nifty place to mount a plotter because it’s visible from either helm. Far forward, there’s a chain locker with good access to the windlass and anchor rode. The anchor itself is stowed on a roller that extends forward, and the bow is further ­protected from accidental dings by a stainless-steel plate. Aft, there is equally good access to the emergency steering and ­quadrant for the single rudder.

A base-model C38 has a price tag of $248,000, but a model that’s well fitted out, like the one we visited, goes for $350,000, delivered to the United States, East Coast. Among the options ­included on the C38 we sailed were three air-conditioning units, a Fusion sound system, and synthetic teak called Esthec on the cockpit seats and sole, and the swim platform. Hardware and electronics were from Seldén, Lewmar and B&G. Sails were from Elvstrøm.

Bavaria builds 500-plus sailboats a year at its factory in Germany, and the C38 is the smallest in the five-boat Cossutti-designed C line; the flagship is a 57-footer. The company builds two other lines of cruising sailboats—the Cruiser and Vision ranges—for a total of 16 models starting at 32 feet.

Bavaria’s hulls and decks are all hand-laminated, with foam coring between inner and outer layers of fiberglass. Aluminum plates are in the composite sandwich wherever hardwaare is to be ­mounted. Hulls and decks are joined with adhesive and screws.

Underway, the C38 is a relatively simple boat to sail, with in-mast furling for the main and a self-tacking jib, also set on a furler. The boat doesn’t have a traveler, so when beating upwind, tacking requires just a turn of the wheel.

A double-ended mainsheet is led back to winches ­within reach of either of the twin wheels, and sail control lines are all led across the coachroof to clutches and a pair of winches on either side of the companionway. There are also genoa tracks mounted on deck and sheet winches on either coaming, should an owner opt for an overlapping genoa.

Underway, I found that visibility from either wheel was good, thanks to the low-profile cabin. The stainless-steel stern pulpit makes a good backrest when sitting down to steer.

We had moderate conditions the day we took the boat out for a sail on the Chesapeake Bay, right after the close of the United States Sailboat Show in Annapolis, Maryland, in October. Sailing hard on the wind in 15 or so knots of breeze, we saw a steady 5.5 knots on the GPS. The track for the self-­tending jib’s car lacked stops, so we weren’t able to get the headsail in as far as we might have liked to, but that’s an easy fix. With the sheets eased a bit for a close reach, our speed jumped to 7 knots and change. ­Under power, the 40 hp Yanmar pushed us along at just over 6 knots, at a fuel-sipping 2,300 rpm cruising speed.

The skipper who ­delivered the boat to the show was along for the ride. He said that they’d encountered a variety of conditions on the ride up from St. Augustine, Florida, and the boat took them all in stride—just as a family cruiser should.

Bavaria C38 Specifications

Sea Trial

The post Sailboat Review: Bavaria C38 appeared first on Cruising World.

If sailors are individualists—and I firmly believe that we are—then there’s a subset of our community comprised of even ­stauncher iconoclasts, those who love and voyage upon metal boats. In this matter, having sailed some 28,000 nautical miles aboard a heavy steel vessel, including a transit of the Northwest Passage and a spin around Cape Horn, I consider myself part of that hearty tribe. That boat, called Ocean Watch, was a home-built, 64-foot Bruce Roberts design that I grew to love, but in a specific context: She was rough, rugged and built for service, not looks, and I came to view her as a workboat, not a “yacht” in the grand sense of the term. (Though I do find deep ­beauty in no-nonsense utility, ­particularly OW’s.)

Which brings us to the subject of the Cigale 16, from the French builders at Alubat, a popular, longtime leader in the category, now in its fifth decade. (Jimmy Cornell’s Alubat Ovni, Aventura, is one of the boatyard’s best-known examples.) Yes, the Cigale 16 is ­aluminum (alloy 5083) and shares the characteristics of her metallic sisterships (regular preventive maintenance is key). But she is also a smart and capable vessel with a high level of craftsmanship and really solid sailing performance. Unlike my fond Ocean Watch, the Cigale is a versatile, long-range yacht—in the best sense of the term. 

Generally, when ­reviewing boats, I like to start with my take on the aesthetics, profile, and deck layout: you know, the topsides. But with the ­Cigale, such an approach would be, as they say, burying the lede. Because the thing that first knocked me out about the boat was not abovedecks but below, just down the ­companionway.

During our Boat of the Year inspections this past fall, we were fortunate to have the ­Cigale’s knowledgeable and experienced owner, Brit ­David Hobbs, to show us around. Clearly, one of his favorite ­features was the “aft saloon” directly beneath the cockpit, behind the companionway, home to a massive dining table (beneath which lives the extremely accessible Volvo auxiliary, with saildrive), settees and sea berths (the latter particularly sensational), and a full galley and navigation station flanked just forward of the living area, to either side (handy, no?). I’ve seen this approach before, many times; the ones I’ve been most smitten with were metal boats from French designers and/or builders. But it doesn’t get much better than what naval architect Marc Lombard has pulled off here. Hobbs gestured ­toward the bulkhead door ­leading forward, to the rest of the ­interior, and said, clearly pleased, “On passage, we don’t go up there.” Why would you? It’s bumpier and noisier. (That said, the accommodations and staterooms are first-rate and highly customizable.)

OK, I was kidding about the topsides, where the Cigale pretty much had me at hello as well. A few years back, the Cigale 16 underwent a redesign, with Lombard (well-known for his performance penchant) updating the original hull that was created by the Finot/Conq design team. (About 18 Cigale 16s were the earlier version; our test vessel was Hull No. 4 of Lombard’s take.) Hard chines, of course, are still part of the package, but the forward sections have been reworked to introduce better form stability. Coupled with the fact that nearly a third of the boat’s 12 tons of displacement sits in the lead ballast bulb at the business end of the welded aluminum keel (­drawing more than 8 feet), I trusted Hobbs when he said, in understatement, “She’s pretty stiff.” (Unlike the Ovni range, which employs swing keels, all the Cigales built to date have fixed keels, though a swing keel is an option.)

Happily, I soon discovered the stiffness part for myself. 

A few things about the ­Cigale, some of which might be attributed to her French accent: The deck-stepped ­aluminum spar (carbon’s an option) supports a huge square-topped main and utilizes a pair of running backstays—not your usual setup on a ­dedicated cruising boat. There are twin wheels and rudders (a single helm is an option) linked by ­cable steering; the cutter rig ­also has provisions for a code zero set off a retractable sprit. 

Hobbs, whose planned South Pacific cruise has for now been waylaid by the pandemic, nonetheless has put some hard miles on the boat, including a trans-Atlantic shakedown where the boat notched a tidy 18 knots, as well as competing in Antigua ­Sailing Week. He’s a pretty passionate sailor and carries a full complement of off-wind reaching sails, which, on a puffy, up-and-down Chesapeake Bay sea trial, with winds that gusted into the high teens, I was more than happy to help him set and douse. And I was justly rewarded: With a big gennaker drawing, we knocked off beam-reaching speeds in the lower double-­digits, with a helm that was both light and exacting. Just a fantastic sail. 

With those running backs and a single line furling setup on the code zero—when that’s hoisted, there are three headsails from which to choose—it’s an athletic boat to run under sail. The efficient, double-ended German-style mainsheet works well; the running rigging is conveniently led ­below deck plates so that lines don’t get tangled underfoot; with flush deck hatches, the sloping foredeck is smooth and unencumbered. A rear arch is situated aft, just over the sugar-scoop transom, and is home to both a nifty davit arrangement and a perch for the ­solar panels and antennas. Interestingly, the owner of our test boat eschewed a ­generator, opting instead for the solar array and a Watt & Sea hydrogenerator to help top off the bank of AGM batteries, ­coupled with the Mastervolt inverter/charging system. 

The Cigale 16 is ­clearly meant to go places, with ­comfort and swiftness to spare. You don’t even have to join the Metal Boat Society to participate. If far-distant voyaging is the goal, here’s a vessel that will take you there.

Herb McCormick is CW’s ­executive editor.

The post The Aluminium Cigale 16 Blends Good Looks and Performance appeared first on Cruising World.

In a year disrupted by pandemic-­related workforce distractions, supply-chain woes and an overhaul of its woodshop, Dufour Yachts, one of France’s most prolific sailboat builders, still ­managed to launch more than 350 vessels, including two new models introduced to North America during the US Sailboat Show in Annapolis, Maryland, this past October.

Making their debuts were the ­performance-cruiser Dufour 470 and a new company flagship, the Dufour 61. Like all Dufours built over the past two decades, the latest in the range come from the drawing board of Umberto Felci, working alongside the in-house design team. The latter now includes input from catamaran builder Fountaine Pajot, whose ownership group bought Dufour three years ago. 

Over time, the result of such close collaboration has been a brand with a strong visual identity and features that tend to be introduced in one model and then incorporated into the rest of the range. At present, the Dufour lineup includes nine models, ranging in size from the yet-to-be-seen (here in the US, at least) Yacht Dufour 32 to the 61.

Some of the features introduced in recent years include a galley-­forward layout, which leaves the beamiest part of the boat open for living and entertaining; self-tacking headsails as an option in place of overlapping genoas; and an outdoor galley on the transom. Several of these elements are now available on models throughout the range, and based on the other new sailboats we saw this past fall in Annapolis, they are ideas that are gaining traction with other builders as well.

But while Felci and Dufour have adopted other trendy design elements, such as chined hulls and twin wheels, they’ve steered clear of twin rudders, opting instead for a single deep foil that provides ample control while backing and sailing, thanks in part to hull forms that favor diminished angles of heel.

Discussing the brand in general terms, Boat of the Year judge Tim Murphy spoke for his colleagues, saying that during sea trials, they’ve come to expect lively sailing performance from Dufour yachts, thanks in part to sails, gear, and deck layouts that reward sailors keen on tweaking lines to control sail shape and trim.

Let’s start with the 470, which was the first boat I visited alongside the BOTY judges.

It was an easy step aboard from the dock, thanks to the wide fold-down transom that doubles as a spacious swim platform. Beneath the cockpit sole to starboard, we found an ample-size life-raft locker; to port, two steps take you past the fold-up helm seat and into the cockpit itself.

One reason for the proliferation of twin wheels these days is the wide beam that’s carried aft on many boats. Usually the space between helms is left open, but on the 470, it’s put to good use with a large padded lounge ­area, which I must admit looked like an inviting place to spend time off watch. It was designed so there’s still good access to the cockpit proper. And while sailing, I didn’t find it in the way when stepping between wheels that are mounted on pedestals well outboard to free up space around the drop-leaf table that sits between the cockpit settees.

Another cockpit element that I thought worked quite well are the steps up to the side deck, located just forward of each wheel. One per side, these provide a simple, neat solution to the dilemma of how to clamor over coamings to go forward, plus they ­double as line-storage bins for the adjacent winches.

The 470, like other Dufour models, is available in three levels of gear and deck layout, depending on how an owner plans to use the boat. Easy, intended for the casual sailor or charterer, gets you a self-tending jib and in-mast furling main, both with halyards and sheets running to a pair of winches on the cabin top. The boat we toured and sailed was set up as an Ocean version, with a pair of Lewmar winches at each helm for main and jib sheets, as well as two more winches on the cabin top for halyards and sail-control lines. Our boat was fit out with a traditional main that’s stored in a boom pouch and a self-tacking jib. But fairlead tracks on the side decks also allow for a genoa; on the bow, there’s a sprit for flying off-wind sails that also incorporates an anchor roller. A beefy traveler sits just forward of the dodger, providing more control over the main. 

The Performance version of the 470 includes additional sailhandling gear, plus end-boom sheeting for the main, with an anchor point in the cockpit sole just forward of the wheels. The latter two versions can also be set up with a double-ended German-style mainsheet, meaning the skipper has control of the sail at either wheel.

Down below, the 470 is ­available in four layouts, all with the galley forward, ­adjacent to the main bulkhead. Included in the design is a feature I’ve really liked on other Dufours: large overhead hatches that span the cabin top just aft of the mast and let tons of light into the interior. Accommodations span from three cabins and two heads, which we found on the boat we sailed, to four cabins and four heads, or four cabins plus a Pullman berth and three heads. As I said, there are options.

Dufour uses foam core above the waterline and solid fiberglass below in its infused composite hulls. Decks are also infused, and a composite grid is bonded to the hull before furniture and systems are installed to carry loads from the keel, engine and rig.

The 470 we sailed is available at a sail-away price right around $600,000. This includes Raymarine electronics, a bow thruster (a stern thruster is an option), and a 60 hp Volvo engine and saildrive; an 80 hp powerplant is also available.

We had a decent breeze—about 12 knots—to start with on the afternoon we went for a sail. Closehauled, the speedo hovered just under 6 knots. Off the wind on a beam reach and in less breeze, maybe 8 knots, the speed dropped to the mid-4-knot range. If I were buying the boat, I’d definitely spring for a code zero or other reaching sail to keep things lively. From either helm, sightlines forward, past the Bimini and dodger, were OK, and their frames doubled as excellent handholds when stepping onto the side decks to go forward. 

Unfortunately, we sailed the 61 earlier in the day, when in a week of nearly perfect conditions, we were skunked for breeze. But powering along with the boat’s 175 Volvo with shaft drive, we scooted right along at 8.7 at the suggested cruising rpm and added another knot when we opened the throttle wide in get-home-quick mode. This hinted at what we might have seen under sail, but in less than 3 knots of breeze, we were in for nothing but drifting on a glassy bay. 

Compared with the 470 and other boats in the Dufour range, the 61 has quite a different look, especially on deck; while down below, she feels big for her size.

Rather than a Bimini and dodger, the 61’s topsides are wide open, save for a carbon-­fiber arch over the companionway, on top of which the double-ended mainsheet is anchored with two blocks. This keeps the deck and coachroof free of lines when sailing. 

The low-profile cabin top, wide side decks, and expansive open foredeck definitely give the 61 a big-boat feel. Aft, with the swim platform down, there’s a large dinghy garage. One concern cited by the judges is that when loaded, the dinghy appears to cover the socket for the emergency tiller. Forward, there’s a large, deep sail locker, with access to the anchor chain, and with a few contortions, the motor for the below-deck electric headsail furler. The jib is self-tacking, and there are no genoa tracks or a molded place to mount them on the teak decks. As the company brochure reads, the boat was developed to provide “simple, instinctive sailing.”

Underway, all the actual work of tending canvas takes place at the twin wheels, where four electric winches give the helmsman fingertip control of all the required lines. Guests can be left to enjoy the spacious cockpit and its wide, drop-leaf centerline table with a fridge underneath. 

As with the 470, an owner has options below for family, guests and crew. The boat we visited had twin aft cabins; a Pullman berth with bunks to starboard, opposite the forward galley; and a unique owner’s cabin far forward that caught my eye, with a queen berth offset to port, and a head and shower compartment forward. Locating the galley aft, to port of the companionway, is also possible, as are a couple more ­sleeping-cabin layouts, ­providing berths for up to eight crew, plus a captain’s berth in the forepeak.

The 61 comes with a flagshiplike price tag of right around $1.3 million for a boat loaded up and ready to go. But thanks to the span of the Dufour range, an owner who appreciates the brand can start smaller and work themselves up to the 61, a few feet at a time.

Specifications

Dufour 470

Dufour 61

Dufour Yachts
240-278-8200
dufouryachts.com

The post Boat Reviews: The Dufour 470 and Dufour 61 appeared first on Cruising World.

This past October, I saw one of the most interesting exhibits in more than 500 new cruising sailboats I’ve reviewed over two decades. It was the Arcona 435Z, built in Sweden and introduced by Graham Balch of Green Yachts in San Francisco. Balch describes his business as “a new brokerage dedicated to the electric revolution on the water,” and it was the “Z” in the boat’s name, which stands for “zero emissions,” that made this boat so interesting. This was the first electric propulsion system—not hybrid but all-electric—I’d ever seen on a cruising sailboat.

Electric propulsion isn’t new. Since 1879, electric motors have propelled boats; a fleet of some four-dozen electric launches transported visitors around the 1893 Colombian Exposition in Chicago. But cruising sailboats are not launches, and the open sea is not a protected canal. When we’re using cruising boats as they’re meant to be used, they seldom end their day plugged into a shore-power outlet. Cruising boats comprise many devices —stove, refrigerator, freezer, windlass, winches, autopilot, radar, lights—whose power typically comes from a tank of fossil fuel. And today’s cruising sailors are accustomed to using diesel auxiliary power to motor through lulls or punch into headwinds and seas.

Starting about 15 years ago, we saw a wave of diesel-electric and hybrid propulsion systems on production and custom cruising boats (see “Perpetuated Motion,” CW, March 2005). Both of those systems ultimately start with an onboard internal-combustion engine. A diesel-electric propulsion system relies on a running genset to directly power the electric motor that turns the propeller. A hybrid system relies on batteries to power the electric motor, plus an internal-combustion genset to recharge the batteries. One of the promises of a hybrid system is the ability to regenerate electrical power. Regeneration means using boatspeed under sail to turn the propeller, whose spinning shaft sends electrons from the electric motor back through an electronic controller to recharge the batteries. In such a system, the boat’s propeller is both an electrical load (when running under power) and a charging source (when sailing in regeneration mode).

The Arcona 435Z was different from both of these systems: It incorporates no onboard fossil-fuel engine at all. Instead, it has a bank of lithium batteries, several solar panels, and a proprietary propulsion leg that looks like a saildrive. “This boat,” Balch said, “has the very first production unit in the world of Oceanvolt’s newest electric propulsion system, called the ServoProp.”

For our sea trial, Balch was joined by Derek Rupe, CEO of Oceanvolt USA. “If you can sail the boat and you have some solar, you can go anywhere in the world, and you can make all your power underway while you go,” Rupe said. When we spoke in October 2020, he touted three high-profile sailors who were using the Oceanvolt electric propulsion system: Alex Thomson, for his Hugo Boss Open 60 Vendée Globe program; Jimmy Cornell, for his Elcano 500 expedition; and Riley Whitelum and Elayna Carausu, who had been teasing their new boat for months on their popular Sailing La Vagabonde YouTube channel.

The efficiency of Oceanvolt’s ServoProp and the regeneration from it is the promised game-changer in each of these boats. The ServoProp is a leg with a ­feathering propeller that can be set for optimal pitch in three modes: forward, reverse and regeneration.

“You don’t need fuel,” Rupe said. “You don’t need to dock; you can go anywhere you want to go and always have the power for living and propulsion.”

That’s the promise. But are there also pitfalls?

Innovation and Risk

Marine electric propulsion is an emerging technology. Compared with the mature and settled technology of diesel engines and lead-acid batteries, electric-propulsion systems—with their electronic controllers and lithium batteries—are in a stage of development best described as adolescent. Every sailor has his or her own tolerance for technical innovation. For the promise of fewer ­seconds per mile, grand-prix-racing sailors willingly trade a high risk of expensive damage to the sails, rig or the boat’s structure itself; cruising sailors, by contrast, tend to favor yearslong reliability in their equipment as they seek miles per day.

Folks who identify as early adopters take special joy in the first-wave discoveries of a new technology; if they’re clear-eyed about supporting an ongoing experiment, they see themselves as partners with the developers, accepting failures as opportunities for learning. Sailors motivated primarily by changing the trajectory of climate change might be especially willing to modify their behavior to limit their own output of greenhouse gases. Investing in any emerging technology asks you to start with a clear assessment of your own risk tolerance. We’ll return to this theme with one or two real-life examples.

The American Boat and Yacht Council, founded in 1954, sets recommended standards for systems installed on recreational boats. For decades, ABYC has published standards related to installations of diesel and gasoline engines, as well as electrical systems based around lead-acid batteries. By contrast, it was only three years ago that ABYC came out with its first electric-propulsion standard (revised July 2021). And only last year it published its first technical-information report on lithium batteries (a technical-information report is an early step toward a future standard). The takeaway is that if you need help servicing your diesel engine or electrical system built around lead-acid batteries, you can pull into any reasonable-size port and find competent technicians to help you. With electric propulsion and lithium batteries, that pool of skilled talent is significantly scarcer.

To say that a technology is mature simply means that we’ve learned to live with it, warts and all, but that it holds few remaining surprises. Certainly, diesel-propulsion and lead-acid-battery technologies each leave plenty of room for improvement. When a charge of fuel ignites in the combustion ­chamber of a diesel engine, some three-quarters of the energy is lost in heat and the mechanical inefficiencies of converting reciprocating motion to rotation. Lead-acid batteries become damaged if we routinely discharge more than half of their capacity. During charging, they’re slow to take the electrons we could deliver.

Lithium batteries are comparatively full of promise. Their power density is far greater than that of lead-acid batteries, meaning they’re much lighter for a given capacity. They’re capable of being deeply discharged, which means you can use far more of the bank’s capacity, not merely the first half. And they accept a charge much more quickly; compare that to several hours a day running an engine to keep the beers iced down.

But the pitfalls? Let’s start with ABYC TE-13, Lithium Ion Batteries. Some of its language is bracing. “Lithium ion batteries are unlike lead-acid batteries in two important respects,” the report says. “1) The electrolyte within most lithium ion batteries is flammable. 2) Under certain fault conditions, lithium ion batteries can enter a condition known as thermal runaway, which results in rapid internal heating. Once initiated, it is a self-perpetuating and exothermic reaction that can be difficult to halt.”

Thermal runaway? Difficult to halt? Self-perpetuating?

“Typically, the best approach is to remove heat as fast as possible, which is most effectively done by flooding the battery with water,” TE-13 continues, “although this may have serious consequences for the boat’s electrical systems, machinery, buoyancy, etc.”

If you were following the news in January 2013, you might remember the ­story of Japan Airlines Flight 008. Shortly after landing at Boston’s Logan Airport, a mechanic opened the aft ­electronic equipment bay of the Boeing 787-8 to find smoke and flames billowing from the auxiliary-power unit. The fire extinguisher he used didn’t put out the flames. Eventually Boston firefighters put out the fire with Halotron, but when removing the still-hissing batteries from the plane, one of the ­firefighters was burned through his ­professional protective gear.

Samsung Galaxy cellphones, MacBook Pro laptops, powered skateboards—in the past decade, these and other devices have been recalled after their lithium batteries burned up. In that period, several high-end custom boats were declared a total loss following failures from lithium batteries. In March 2021, a 78-foot Norwegian hybrid-powered tour boat, built in 2019 with a 790 kW capacity battery bank, experienced thermal runaway that kept firefighters on watch for several days after the crew safely abandoned the ship.

Yes, experts are learning a lot about how to mitigate the risks around lithium batteries. But we’re still on the learning curve.

ABYC’s TE-13 “System Design” section starts, “All lithium-ion battery ­systems should have a battery ­management system (BMS) installed to prevent damage to the battery and provide for battery shutoff if potentially dangerous conditions exist.” It defines a bank’s “safe operating envelope” according to such parameters as high- and low-voltage limits, charging and discharging temperature limits, and charging and ­discharging current limits.

Graham Balch takes these safety recommendations a step further: “To our knowledge, the BMS has to monitor at the cell level. With most batteries, the BMS monitors at the module level.” The difference? “Let’s say you have 24 cells inside the battery module, and three of them stop working. Well, the other 21 have to work harder to compensate for those three. And that’s where thermal events occur.”

Balch followed the story of the Norwegian tour boat this past spring. He believes that the battery installation in that case didn’t meet waterproofing standards: “The hypothesis is that due to water intrusion, there was reverse polarity in one or more of the cells, which is worse than cells simply not working. It means that they’re actively working against the other cells. But if the BMS is monitoring only at the module level, you wouldn’t know it.”

On the Green Yachts website, Graham lists five battery manufacturers whose BMS regimes monitor at the cell level. “If I were sailing on an electric boat, whether it be commercial or recreational, I would feel comfortable with having batteries from these five companies and no other,” he said.

The broader takeaway for today’s sailors is that lithium batteries bring their own sets of problems and solutions, which are different from those of conventional propulsion and power-supply technologies. A reasonably skilled sailor could be expected to change fuel filters or bleed a diesel engine if it shuts down in rough conditions. With lithium-ion batteries aboard, an operator needs to understand the causes and remedies of thermal runaway, and be ready to respond if the BMS shuts down the boat’s power.

Real-World Electric Cruising Boats

When we met Oceanvolt’s Derek Rupe a year ago, he and his wife had taken their all-electric boat to the Bahamas and back the previous season. Before that, he’d been installing electric-propulsion packages for six years on new Alerion 41s and other refit projects. “My real passion is on the technical side of things—installations, really getting that right. That’s half the picture. The technology is there, but it needs to be installed correctly.”

When talking to Rupe, I immediately encountered my first learning curve. I posed questions about the Oceanvolt system in amps and amp-hours; he responded in watts and kilowatt-hours. This was yet another example of the different mindset sailors of electric boats need to hold. Why? Because most cruising boats have just one or two electrical systems: DC and AC. The AC system might operate at 110 or 220 volts; the DC side might operate at 12 or 24 volts. On your own boat, that voltage is a given. From there we tend to think in terms of amps needed to power a load, and amp-hours of capacity in our battery banks. Going back to basics, the power formula tells us that power (watts) equals electrical potential (volts) times current (amps). If your boat’s electrical system is 12 volts and you know that your windlass is rated at 400 watts, it follows that the windlass is rated to draw 33 amps.

But an all-electric boat might comprise several systems at different voltages. A single battery bank might supply cabin lights at 12 volts DC; winches and windlasses at 24 volts DC; the propulsion motor at 48 volts DC; and an induction stove, microwave and television at 110 volts AC. A DC-to-DC power converter steps the voltage up or down, and an inverter changes DC to AC. Instead of translating through all those systems, the Oceanvolt monitor (and Derek Rupe) simply reports in watts coming in or going out of the bank.

“We keep all our thoughts in watts,” Rupe said. “Watts count in the AC induction. They count in the DC-to-DC converter. They count the solar in. They count the hydrogeneration in. And the ­power-management systems tracks it that way for shore-power in.

“On a boat like this, maybe I have 500 watts coming in the solar panels,” he continued. “So then I can think: ‘Well, my fridge is using 90 watts. My boat has an electric stove. When I cook a big meal, I can see that for every hour we cook, we lose about 10 to 12 minutes of our cruising range.’”

During his Bahamas cruising season, Rupe observed that on days that they were sailing, the combination of solar panels and hydroregeneration supplied all the power he and his wife needed. “When we weren’t sailing,” he said, “we found that we were losing 8 percent each day, in the difference from what the sun gave us to what we were using for the fridge, lights, charging our laptops, and all that stuff.”

Rupe’s solution? “Twice in Eleuthera and once outside Major’s, we went out and sailed laps for a couple of hours because the batteries were below 30 percent of capacity. It was good sailing, and the wind was coming over the shore, so we didn’t have any sea state. We did a couple of hot laps on nice beam reaches, and generated about 700 watts an hour.”

Of the three sailors Rupe touted in October 2020—Alex Thomson, Jimmy Cornell and the Sailing La Vagabonde couple—only Cornell can report back on his all-electric experiences with Oceanvolt. Alex Thomson ended his circumnavigation abruptly last November, just 20 days after the Vendée Globe start, when Hugo Boss collided with an object in the South Atlantic. And at press time in early fall 2021, Riley and Elayna had just recently announced the build of their new Rapido trimaran; keep an eye on their YouTube channel for more about their experiences with the Oceanvolt propulsion system.

As for Cornell—circumnavigator, World Cruising Routes author, creator of the transoceanic rally, and veteran of some 200,000 ocean miles—he suspended his planned Elcano 500 round-the-world expedition solely because of the Oceanvolt system in his new Outremer catamaran. His Aventura Zero Logs on the Cornell Sailing website, particularly the Electric Shock article posted on December 2, 2020, are essential reading for any sailor interested in sailing an electric boat. “Sailing around the world on an electric boat with zero emissions along the route of the first circumnavigation was such a tempting opportunity to do something meaningful and in tune with our concern for protecting the environment that my family agreed I should do it,” Cornell wrote. “What this passage has shown was that in spite of all our efforts to save energy, we were unable to regenerate sufficient electricity to cover consumption and top up the batteries.”

Cornell’s experience in that article is raw, and his tone in that moment bitterly disappointed. We recommend it as essential reading—not as a final rejection of the electric-boat concept or of Oceanvolt’s system, or even as an endorsement of Cornell’s own decision that the system didn’t work. I suspect that I may have arrived at the same conclusion. Yet given the same boat in the same conditions, one imagines that a new breed of sailor—a Graham Balch or a Derek Rupe—may have responded differently to the constraints imposed by an all-electric boat, as nearly every cruising sailor today habitually responds to the inconvenient constraints of diesel engines and lead-acid batteries.

“If you bring electric winches, electric heads and an induction stove, and then sail into a high-pressure system, you’ll set yourself up for failure,” Balch said. “You have to balance your power inputs and your power outputs.

“Sailing an electric boat is a return to the tradition of sailing that the crutch of a diesel engine has gotten us away from,” he added. “Magellan’s fleet got all the way around the world, and they didn’t have a diesel engine.”

Tim Murphy is a Cruising World editor-at-large and ­longtime Boat of the Year judge.

The post The Promises and Pitfalls of an All-Electric Yacht appeared first on Cruising World.

Excess catamaran 15. Excess world and explore perfectly designed catamarans inspired by racing for cruising pleasure.

Right up front, let me say three things about the new Excess 15, which I got to sail with my Boat of the Year colleagues this past fall in ocean waters off Fort Lauderdale, Florida: It’s a big, roomy cruising cat that’s super easy to handle and really fun to sail. OK, make it four things: We all liked the boat. A lot.

Excess Catamarans is a new brand, just two years old, launched by French builder Group Beneteau, and designed to reach a segment of the multihull market where it saw an opening: namely monohull sailors who appreciate the actual sailing aspect of cruising but who are open to the creature comforts a multihull has to offer.

Hey, that’s me!

I do the majority of my sailing on a single hull. I appreciate the thrill when the rail occasionally dips into the water. I like the feedback that I get from the wheel, the water rushing past, a little spray in my face from time to time. But then again, some of my favorite adventures have taken place on two hulls. Lounging on the tramp in a pretty anchorage, power reaching from island to island, plenty of room to take family and friends along, private cabins and multiple spaces to gather—what’s not to like about those aspects of a cruising cat?

I found that the Excess 15 borrowed liberally from both worlds. It is spacious, can be loaded up with options, and everybody aboard is going to want to take a turn at the wheel. Trust me on this; the 15 is downright sporty to drive, especially with the code zero unrolled.

The boat’s standard configuration is a square-top main and self-tending jib, but Excess also offers what it calls its Pulse package, with a 3-foot-taller mast, bowsprit and code zero set on a continuous-line furler. We got to sail this power-­packed solent-rig version, and it’s the one I’d consider if I were writing a check.

Upwind, the self-tending jib makes the boat simple to singlehand. In 10 to 12 knots of wind, the speedo hovered in the high 7-knot range, and tacking required only a turn of the wheel and adjustment of the Harken electric traveler. When we bore off onto a reach, we lost a knot or so of speed, but conditions were perfect to furl the jib and deploy the big reacher. Immediately, the speedo jumped to 10 and change, and off we went.

I found that the locations of the twin wheels—aft and outboard on either transom—were also a value add. I’ve sailed aboard cats with the helm on a flybridge or raised seat adjacent to the aft bulkhead, and I’ve felt disconnected from the water, and sometimes the rest of the crew if they’ve wandered off to some other corner of the boat. On the Excess, the interaction with others on board seemed more monohull-like, with everyone in the cockpit and within earshot.

RELATED: Beneteau Oceanis Yacht 54 Boat Review

Said cockpit features an ­inviting dining table to port surrounded by an L-shaped couch, a large lounge opposite, and a padded bench seat across the transom between fold-down helm seats. Overhead, the center of the Bimini slides open to let the sunlight pour in, and provides an excellent view of the mainsail while underway. On the boat we sailed, cockpit gatherings were further encouraged by adding a sink, fridge and ice maker to the amenities.

In the saloon, glass windows all around and a large slider door aft offer a 360-degree look at the world, while also providing relatively good visibility forward from the helms. An L-shaped galley with sink, stove, oven and microwave is located in the aft port corner of the main cabin; opposite is a drawer-style fridge and freezer, with more counter space above them. A second large table and another L-shaped couch are forward.

The boat we sailed had a traditional three-cabin layout, with the owner’s quarters occupying the starboard hull; two en suite guest cabins filled the port hull, along with another freezer amidships. The boat can also be configured with four en suite berths, or with six cabins and six heads (two additional crew berths are available in the forepeaks), which should prove popular with the charter crowd.

The base price for the 15 is $737,000, but the boat we sailed, delivered to the US and loaded with options—including a bow thruster and FLIR cameras—is right around $950,000, reflecting the benefits and costs of living and sailing to excess.

Mark Pillsbury is CW’s editor.

The post Excess 15 Boat Review appeared first on Cruising World.

When it came time to replace its ­popular Helia 44, Fountaine Pajot asked customers what they wanted in a midsize cruising ­catamaran, and then turned to naval ­architect Olivier Racoupeau and its ­in-house team to design it. The result is the Elba 45, a stylish-­looking cat with slightly inverted bows, a reverse sheer to its hulls, and a sporty coachroof and ­Bimini that does double duty as a ­flybridge lounge.

The Elba made its North American debut this past fall at the U.S. Sailboat Show in Annapolis, Maryland, where our Boat of the Year judges and I first inspected its construction, layout and systems dockside, and then a few days later, took it sailing on a picture-perfect morning on Chesapeake Bay.

In breeze that wavered ­between 12 and 16 knots, the Elba turned in a respectable 6.4 knots close-hauled and a little better than 7 knots on a beam reach under genoa and flattop mainsail. We quickly found the Elba to be an easy boat to sail, which is just one of the reasons that at week’s end the judges awarded it the title of Best Charter Boat for 2020.

Like most of the company’s models, the Elba is available in an owner-preferred three-­cabin Maestro version and a four-cabin charter layout, which was the boat we sailed.

In the Maestro, the owner gets the entire port hull, with a queen berth aft, a desk/vanity and storage lockers amidships, and a spacious head area forward that includes a walk-in shower located outboard and separated by a sole-to-ceiling wall of glass. It’s a neat arrangement. The starboard hull is laid out with double guest cabins fore and aft, each with its own en suite head and separate shower. For charter, the starboard-hull layout is mirrored to port, so everyone’s accommodations are pretty much equal.

In either version, the saloon is the same, and a bright and roomy place to spend time. A large sliding door aft lets ­living space spill into the cockpit, where a dining table and ­ample relaxation stations are ­located. Indoors, visibility in all directions is excellent, thanks to oversize windows; the center one forward opens outward to let in the breeze. Seated on the aft-facing U-shaped couch (one side is actually more like a daybed, and it turns into a lounge chair with a tablet docking station adjacent), I liked the pair of skylights overhead that provide a clear view of the sails, and the low coffee table close by.

RELATED: Fountaine Pajot Elba 45: 2020 Boat of the Year Best Charter Boat

Missing from the layout is a traditional nav station—customers said they don’t use them. Instead, there’s ­additional galley and storage space, and the ability to hook up a laptop to a flat-screen ­display at the entrance to the saloon. Also missing was an ­interior dining table (it’s ­available as an option).

While flybridges are the rage in charter-boat design these days, for passagemaking they are not so practical because the helmsman is exposed to the elements and isolated from the crew down below; and design-wise, the boom has to be that much higher off the water. FP has found what I think is a practical solution by placing the helm station to starboard, halfway in between the lounging area atop the Bimini and the cockpit below.

The Elba also features what I’d call a split-helm arrangement, with a pass-through ­between the steering-wheel pedestal and the three winches mounted forward on the cabin top. Singlehanding, the skipper can engage the autopilot to free up both hands, or step around the wheel but still keep a hand on it while trimming sails. With crew, the sail trimmer gets their own workstation with ­plenty of elbowroom for maneuvering. Our judging team liked this arrangement. But they also thought a more robust traveler would benefit the boat.

Under power, a pair of 60 hp Volvo diesels with saildrives (50 hp is standard) pushed the Elba right along at about 8 knots at cruising rpm and better than 9 knots in get-there-quick mode. I’d guess with just a little more breeze, we’d have seen ­similar speeds under sail. As fit out, the boat we sailed had a sticker price of just over $800,000. BOTY judge Ed Sherman often notes that the noise levels while motoring are an indication of how well a boat is built, and hence its value. “This was one of the quieter boats that we’ve tested,” he said of the ­Elba’s reading of 72 dB with the throttles wide open—”which is pretty much excellent.”

Amen to that.

Mark Pillsbury is CW’s editor.

The post Fountaine Pajot Elba 45 Boat Review appeared first on Cruising World.

Every 10 years or so, a new wrinkle in boat design or layout comes along that alters the way in which we perceive cruising boats. Way back when (OK, more than a decade ago), it was the not-so-subtle shift from full-keel yachts to those with fin blades and skeg-hung rudders. More recently, raised deck saloons changed the way we looked at interior ­spaces, opening up the main living area with wraparound windows, more light and headroom, and panoramic views. Then came chines, once the purview of metal boats but ­suddenly ubiquitous in fiberglass production craft, with claims of better ­performance (maybe) and voluminous accommodations (definitely). And let’s not forget the explosion of cruising catamarans, which are a separate discussion altogether.

Now, with the introduction of Jeanneau’s Sun Odyssey 440 and 490 — the first models launched in the eighth generation of the company’s Sun Odyssey line (time flies!) — we may be witnessing yet ­another shift in the evolution of mass-­produced cruisers. It’s too early to tell, of course, but this latest design wrinkle totally impressed our judging panel in last fall’s Boat of the Year contest, so much so that they unanimously dubbed the 440 the Most ­Innovative yacht for 2018 (see “A Most Unusual Year,” January 2018).

So what, exactly, is this ­revolutionary innovation? The deck layout and, especially, the cockpit configuration. Really? That’s it? Yes, and anyone who’s ever clambered over a coaming in a nasty seaway and felt the world had just become a very dangerous and unforgiving place will certainly understand this once they’ve experienced the ingenious arrangement both models share.

The biggest change is in the ­sloping side decks, which are basically outboard on- and off-ramps that lead from sole level in the cockpit directly up to the level of the coachroof. Then, with lower shrouds set inboard and upper shrouds placed outboard, the path to and from the foredeck is equally unimpaired.

But as they say, it’s the sum of the parts that make up the whole, and the cockpits on these sister ships have many other features. Let’s begin with the 440. The ­layout is asymmetric, meaning the central table is offset to port, allowing easy egress from the companionway through to the drop-down transom. The split backstays terminate inboard of the seats for the twin helms (usually they are outboard), which means the driver is not pinned against them when at the wheel but can sit comfortably with their back nestled into the stern rail. Flip-down coamings are another pleasant surprise; they can be positioned upright when sailing and then lowered to convert into comfortable daybeds once the hook is down and the refreshments served.

Down below, there are three accommodations plans from which to choose. For a big family, there’s a four-­cabin layout with twin double staterooms forward and aft. ­Alternatively, you can opt for a forward owners cabin with the twin doubles aft. Our test boat had the layout I’d prefer, with the forward stateroom, a generous double cabin aft to starboard and a ­dedicated utility room/workshop to port.

With all three layouts, the main saloon is remarkably open thanks to the rig placement for the deck-stepped mast, which is well forward. This means the compression post down below is ­also ­positioned forward. The compromise here is that it ­removes a bit of room from the owners cabin, but the trade-off, I think, is worth it (after all, the double berth is ­appropriately sized, and you don’t need the extra area if the space is primarily used for sleeping or lounging anyway). Plus, when the double doors for the cabin are opened, the entire floor plan is open as well.

The saloon in all three ­versions is identical, with a ­navigation station, straight-line galley and head to port, and a dining table with a U-shaped settee and a second head to starboard. A trio of windows in both sides of the hull bathe the interior in ­plenty of ­natural light.

As with the interior layout, there are also three rigs from which to choose: a standard rig with a full-battened mainsail, a performance rig with a taller mast and tricked-out sails, and a third option with an ­in-mast furling main. Our test boat during sea trials on ­Chesapeake Bay was equipped with the third choice. To be honest, the rather shapeless sails were less than impressive, but in a breeze that topped off at ­better than 20 knots, we ­managed speeds of over 8 knots, and as the wind softened into the 10-knot range, we still recorded a decent 5-plus knots of boat speed. The dual helms were light and totally responsive, and our overall opinion was that the 440 would be one hell of a boat to steer with ­either the standard or ­performance sail package. The last thing you want to do with a hull this fast and slippery is put a governor on it.

It will be interesting to see if other builders adopt or ­create something similar to ­Jeanneau’s innovative ­cockpit and deck layout — imitation, as the old saying goes, is the sincerest form of flattery — but there’s no question it’s a fresh, smart take on one of the most important features on any ­cruising sailboat. Whoever said there is nothing new under the sun hasn’t had a look at the Sun Odyssey 440.

Meet the Big Sister

Hot on the heels of launching the Sun Odyssey 440 last fall, Jeanneau this winter brought a big sister — a ­stunning 49-footer — to Miami’s ­International Boat Show for its North American debut.

Like the 440, which won ­accolades from our Boat of the Year judges following the U.S. Sailboat Show in Annapolis, Maryland, the Sun Odyssey 490 features Jeanneau’s creative cockpit and topside design that includes ­uncluttered side decks that slope down to meet the cockpit sole. On the 440, the ­cockpit table is offset to ­provide a clear path from the transom to the companionway. On the 490, it’s the ­companionway that’s slightly offset to port to achieve the same end. On both boats, seat coamings fold out to create spacious spots for lounging. A double backstay, whose ends terminate inboard on the transom, leaves the corners of the cockpit open for the helmsman to work at either of the twin wheels, where winches are mounted nearby and inboard to facilitate trimming, and where there are clear sight lines to all instruments, including chart plotter and engine display.

Eventually, all these ­attributes will be duplicated as Jeanneau adds more new models to the eighth generation of its Sun Odyssey line. In the meantime, I’m willing to wager here and now that many of these ideas will be copied in some fashion or another by rival builders, because each and every one makes sailing either safer, easier or more fun.

But new ideas aboard the 490 aren’t limited to the great outdoors. Down below, the distinctive lines of the full-chined Philippe Briand hull translate into voluminous interior space that has been put to practical and attractive use by designer Jean-Marc Piaton. With a beam of nearly 15 feet, the saloon can’t help but look spacious — and it is, with three different areas in which to congregate. First, there’s the nav station to port at the foot of the companionway stairs. It has a properly sized desk for chart work, and cushioned seats fore and aft, so it doubles as a breakfast nook or place to sit and chat.

Also to port is Piaton’s take on the now popular ­galley-forward design. A Corian U-shaped counter gives the cook(s) lots of working space. When standing and facing outboard (with a view out to the sea), double sinks are to the left. A top-opening fridge and gimbaled three-burner stove and oven sit front and center. In the right corner, there’s space for a pop-up microwave, and beneath the counter that abuts the forward bulkhead, there’s room for an additional fridge or freezer. Drawers and storage areas with deep fiddles abound. The latter will keep gear from sliding about in a seaway, and they provide much-­appreciated handholds.

Opposite is the dining area. A generously sized table drops to make a berth for additional guests, and is ­surrounded by U-shaped seating and a ­centerline bench. Additional storage is outboard of the couches, helping to keep weight low and eliminating the need for overhead ­compartments that would restrict one’s view. Add in ports in the hull and cabin sides, and overhead hatches that let light pour in, and you get an interior that is bright and feels big but secure underway.

Space is put to good use in sleeping areas too. The ­aforementioned offset companionway is flanked on ­either side by doors to the two aft cabins, each fit out with a rectangular double bed and ­hanging locker. The location of the stairs also makes room for a large head and shower to starboard that’s shared. If ­desired, one of the cabins can be converted into a workshop or storage space. (There are ­also options for four cabins and four heads, or five cabins and three heads.)

It’s the owners cabin ­forward that benefits most from the space created by the chines. From the queen-size rectangular bed, one looks aft at a centerline bookshelf and flat-panel display screen. Outboard to either side are ­hanging lockers. To port, there’s a head and sink in their own compartment. To starboard, there’s another sink outboard, and tucked behind the bookshelf there’s a large shower stall on the centerline with an opening hatch overhead. The cabin actually feels like a small apartment.

It’s a small gripe, but ­jumping aboard the 490’s fold-up swim platform to go for a test sail after the show, the step up to the cockpit sole seemed rather tall. Apparently, I’m not the only one to notice; an intermediate folding foothold is going to be added to both the 490 and 440.

Getting underway and ­clearing the tight confines of the boat-show dock was not a problem, thanks to a retractable bow thruster. Once we were in open water, in-mast furling made setting the main an effortless task, as was unfurling and sheeting in the 106 percent genoa using the electric winches. Jeanneau long ago adopted double-ended ­German-style mainsheets led to line clutches near either wheel. I really like the setup because it gives you multiple ways to trim the sail, and either sheet is at your fingertips in case things have to happen fast.

While crewmates lounged around the cockpit table forward, I made full use of the working space at the helms to tack back and forth a few times singlehanded. The boat spun on a dime and accelerated nicely. “So responsive!” I jotted in my notes. With the breeze up and the boat heeled, the twin rudders proved their worth.

My one wish was that the 490 had been rigged with the standard full-batten main, lazy jacks and boom pouch. Still, in 16 knots of breeze, we trucked upwind with the GPS speed in the high 7s; in one puff, I read 8.7 knots. Off the breeze, on a reach (with the wind down to maybe 10 to 12 knots), we made 6 knots. I’d definitely take ­advantage of the boat’s bowsprit and order a downwind sail if I were a paying customer. For someone headed up and down the Intracoastal Waterway, there’s also an option for a bridge-friendly 63-foot mast.

You can get into a stripped-down version of the 490 for $354,400, ready to go and delivered to the East Coast. Load it up with perks such as air conditioning, ­electronics and a 7.5 kW Onan ­genset, as was the boat we sailed, and the price will be closer to $425,000. Either way, you’ll be buying into a whole new way of experiencing life afloat.

Herb McCormick is CW’s executive editor. Mark Pillsbury is CW’s editor.

The post Test Sails on the Jeanneau 440 and 490 appeared first on Cruising World.