A Strange Live-Aboarder

2011

Introduction

There aren’t many who can claim to be living exactly as they wish but live-aboarder Chas Strange wouldn’t trade his floating kingdom nor his lifestyle for anything. That’s despite having encountered near sinkings, oil floods and serious injury not to mention the perilous antics of other boaties.

Here he delivers a mix of narrative, philosophy, observation and opinion in no particular order. Not short on experience, Chas made his first flotilla from totara fence posts – much to the farmer’s wrath – when a boy in the King Country. Accordingly, significant events in this old sea dog’s life move back and forth in time as his various boats and colourful voyages take the lime light.

From meditative musings on some of the country’s finest anchorages to digressions on infamous watering holes, the many topics covered here will engage sailors, wanna be boat builders and aspiring live-aboarders.

Now in his eighties, Chas has spent many of his live-aboard years in the sheltered confines of Whangaroa Harbour in the Far North. ‘When you’re on your own it’s a great life,’ he maintains, ‘but there’s adversity too. I’m more observant now and I take the time to appreciate where I am.’

‘Ahoy there, I’m coming aboard’

I know the signs! From the wheelhouse I had been quietly observing, with side vision, a dinghy being rowed intentionally noisily and was aware that it had encircled my vessel twice, attempting to attract attention. Me thinks I’m about to expect a visitor!

With no encouragement the rower finally approached, hailed and smiled. We nodded and exchanged the usual nonsensical pleasantries.

Some guys are coming aboard, come hell or high water. You simply could not deter them if you were to swing a 4 x 2 with a nail protruding from it.

I await the obvious.

‘Interesting craft you have here.’ … Long pause … ‘Mind if I come aboard?’

Ten out of ten, I must be psychic!

‘For what purpose?’ I reply. ‘This is my private floating home.’And to myself – being strange by name and nature – I say, ‘It’s my floating castle in a manor of speaking.’ Then verbally I add, ‘I wouldn’t barge into yours!’

He clumsily re-seated himself on the centre thwart – noticeably taken aback – and blurted out, ‘Well just a natter mate, boat talk, for you’ve got here exactly what I’m looking for!

‘I’m intrigued with the apparent spacious live-aboard capabilities and I’m told that it’s your design. She’s flat bottomed, settles on the sea bed in an upright position, shoal draft, and can be safely beached anywhere, absolutely ideal for my requirements!

Sally-Forth sitting primly upright on the seabed.

‘Your concept for ferrocement steel hull amateur construction is considerably stronger than other designers specify,’ he continued.

‘Should time permit I’d be grateful if you would ascertain your offshore experiences and thoughts voyaging in ferrocement vessels. Also, I’m curious to know of your chosen life style as a permanent live-aboarder. How is it possible, what is the secret?’

This could prove a lengthy interrogation, condensing my lifetime of boating, cruising, sailing offshore, amateur and professional boat-building activities, plus live-aboarding. Not an easy task to immediately summarise.

I took his painter, cleated it off and – to stamp a little authority – stated, ‘I’m a non-smoker and don’t keep ashtrays aboard.’

We introduced and accepting his hand of friendship I led the way to the comfort of the wheelhouse.

Sally-Forth sporting her original schooner rig.

‘Now let’s understand each other from the outset,’ I began, ‘my vessel is not for sale. If I did sell, all I would have is money! But first, let me explain why I feel so loyal to my ship … I built her at Herald Island in Auckland, over a three year period, launching at Westpark Marina in 1996. Originally she was rigged as a schooner. All things of beauty have a certain ‘strangeness’ in their proportion,’ I added. ‘Pun intended!’

‘After virtually a lifetime of building vessels to Orams, Spencer, Ganely, Hartley and Sewell plans, I felt it high time to put my own thoughts on the drawing board.

‘By choice Sally-Forth is constructed in ferrocement.

‘I believe for a live-aboarder wanting comfortable cruising, the medium has no equal. Hull wise, maintenance wise and dollar for dollar, she’s second to none!

‘Her imperial statistics are: length – 46ft, beam – 14ft, draft – 2ft 6 with a large centreboard lowering to 6ft when required. Being flat bottomed she has no bilge.

‘Following the old scow and trader method, I fashioned a large block of timber and when finally satisfied with its shape, it was cut length-wise into two pieces, then one was further cut cross-wise into precisely equal sections, thus obtaining necessary frame scale measurements and stations. Eight years later her lines were computerized.

‘A Scow, skip-jack, ‘Sharpie’ hull emerged, shoal-craft, flat-bottomed, purpose made, designed for the upper reaches, mud flats, rivers and creeks and able to take the ground remaining upright and level. No expensive permanent marina berth required! After water-testing, this model was split down the centre line as below. This half is mounted and now adorns the completed Sally-Forth’s main saloon bulkhead.

‘The remaining half was then sectioned to provide hull form patterns as shown in the photo below. Note that sections 3, 6 and 9 have been rotated to show the frame form. From this point the dimensions were lofted out to full size and the frames constructed.

‘Once the frames were completed the armature could be produced ready to be plastered.

‘The yacht racing breed have the fallacious impression that deep outside ballast is vital for coastal and offshore ability. They are completely oblivious to the many, many advantages of shoal-craft!

‘She’s a motor-sailor, not intended to sail and point to windward like an A class keeler, more a house-boat, fashioned to carry a large robust motor, capacious water and diesel tanks and creature comforts.

Here the frames in the completed hull armature are clearly visible.

‘An unusual design with a lifetime plan built into it. Simply a comfortable family cruising liveaboarder, the emphasis being on homeliness. For instance I don’t like banging my bloody head, so full head room prevails throughout!

‘The forepeak (bow or stem) area forms the chain locker housed behind a quarter bulkhead. This accommodates 30 metres of 3/8" chain (13mm) and its securing bitter end.

‘The fo’c’s’le is separated from the main saloon and forward cabins with a watertight crash bulkhead, this giving a private two-berth cabin with ample storage and somewhere to retreat to zzz, read or whatever turns your screw. There’s even a workbench vice area if desired.

‘Quite delightful and spacious when one considers the confines of our Tupperware (peas in a pod) of pop out plastic, self-same counterparts!

‘On either side of the 8ft centre-case are two identical cabins. The bunks form single or double beds, with wardrobe shelving and built in cabinets. Whatever the owner-builder desires.

‘The main saloon comprises a large fixed table with hinged flaps and seating around, thus forming a further bunk on the starboard side. The galley has a full size cooking gas stove, four burner grill, oven, fridge and freezer, plus a diesel heater stove and an 8ft 6in stainless steel sink bench with hot and cold pressurized water.

‘There is no boredom or the same tiresome, restricted view from the kitchen sink. The cook’s observations from the galley porthole, unlike her landlubberly counterpart, is continually changing, either as the ship journeys on, or is at anchor in some different bay. Even on a permanent anchorage, a vessel is at all times gently and serenely swinging by wind or tide to her ground tackle, the scene altering artistically, the window virtually a moving picture of variety and delight.

Sally-Forth on the drawing board.

‘You don’t give up comfort for discomfort when living aboard! A large cabin to starboard contains the vanity, washbasin, head, holding tank and shower area.

‘Up the companionway to the completely covered in wheelhouse we find another fixed table, seating and controls.

‘TMC AP50 auto pilot became essential for the lone sailor as prior to this installation she was quite a skittery bitch, requiring constant helmsmanship, otherwise she’d stay straight running for approximately four boat lengths, then head for Peru!

‘My depth sounder is a Silva Nexus (quite unnecessary for my shoal-draft vessel) but still at times nice to tinker with.

‘The Furuno marine radar antenna, when fixed to the mast, made my square sail unusable so this was re-cut to form a sizable MPS (multipurpose sail)

‘My VHF is a Shakespeare SE 2000, call sign ZMV 6979. I also tinker with Furuno GPS navigator and TV plus video.

‘Sally-Forth’s power plant is a slow revving Ruston Hornsby with a five blade 24 inch Kelvin clover leaf propeller. It has a large fly wheel and simply hates stopping! All five batteries are GEL with 24 volt engine start. The remaining three Optimas are house 12 volt needs. Expensive, yes! But if I don’t go first class my offspring surely will!

‘I reiterate, an unusual design with a lifetime plan built into it and manageable by one person. A proper ship with true character, flaunting that wonderful noble look of yesteryear! A definite taste of the 19th century, a look of afore made more palatable perhaps by 21st century amenities, creature comforts and technology.

‘There’s a warm feeling of cosiness below, for ferro hulls are warm and dry. I repeat, warm and dry!

‘Unlike the heavy underwater configuration of displacement keelers – with their skippers’ never ending fears of even touching the seabed, let alone grounding – my design adopts – with no vestige of danger – a breezy paradoxical attitude toward taking the ground!

‘I like the instant ship recognition and welcome a friendly hail from the shoreline with the statement, ‘I recognized your vessel from way back!’ Acknowledging, and fully knowing, my ship is conspicuous, I reiterate, all things of beauty have a certain strangeness in their proportions! Regarding his comment as a pleasing complement I recall early yachting days when a vessel rounding a point would be instantly recognisable by its rig, sails, masts, general configuration and hull shape. Whereas today’s hulls are largely of unrecognisable Tupperware sameness, characterless, simply peas in a pod, of pop out plastic! A-never-sacrifice-beauty-for-utility brigade prevails.

‘Compound binaries and plastic spray cockpit covers, are a straight out admission of design failure in catering for creature comfort, crew relief and cheer.

‘Also, in my opinion the three and four storey game fishing boats are quite hideous, far from appearing aesthetic, sporting their ugly top-heavy observation super-structure complete with clear plastic condom toppings!

The rig Sally-Forth sports today,

‘Why change the rig you ask? Well, really a culmination of several things, including my advancing years, though I firmly believe that old age is wonderful when one considers the alternative!

‘My schooner rig survived eight years but I found a reluctance at sea, even when choosing the weather conditions to sail, that I lacked the agility and inclination to climb onto the wheelhouse roof to manipulate the mainsail as it is known when schooner rigged. Even with sail covers previously removed, one still had to untie the gaskets with absolutely no safety handrail protection whatsoever! There’s great pendulation up there, I kid you not. One slip and splash! Aided by the autopilot, my trusty vessel would have continued on course, oblivious of her skipper’s plight.

‘Consequently on long coastal passages the full rig was virtually obsolete because it was rarely used.

The Duke’s Nose in the Western Arm of Whangaroa Harbour, a timeless sentinel, as viewed by Phoenicians some 2,500 years ago.

‘Hence with the rig change I forfeited my square sail, and gaff foresail, for a stumpy, easily managed single-handed modest mainsail, that doesn’t require reefing. The two headsails are of course self-furling.

‘I’m simply a retired elderly gent adventurer enjoying the elegant simplicity with no rip tear and bust, (been there done that). As a comparative youngster I’d clocked up thousands of offshore miles. The enticement of crewing now, to satisfy another blue water fix, is still within me, if there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s temptation!

‘Prior to Richard Hartley publishing full size blueprint drawings of his many motorsailer designs drawn expressly for ferrocement construction, eager prospective building enthusiasts made the mistake of choosing existing plans for small proportioned wooden vessels, with the result that when launched they were grossly down on their marks!

‘I purposely chose a full bodied cruising vessel of the same weight factor. The 41ft Raiatea design by Alan Orams proved highly successful and served me well coastal cruising. Thousands of offshore miles passed under her keel, American Samoa finally becoming her permanent home port.

‘Your inquiry re con-struction … this is my plasterer’s report [see over] and I’ll briefly discuss other important improvements, techniques and developments learned over the last forty years.

The 41ft Raiatea design by Alan Orams.

‘As the Sayer marine survey report states, my hull armature matrix construction method is infinitely stronger than required for several reasons. Hartley specifies additional diagonal hull strengthening first with his 45ft Tahitian design. This angle encompasses four frames contributing strength, rigidity, and symmetry of line.

‘All his smaller hull designs were formed by truss frames, (originally ¾ inch galvanised pipe) and ¼ inch hard drawn wire longitudinals, spaced at 2 inch centres, then covered in ½ inch hexagonal galvanised 22 gauge netting, four layers each side.

‘They, to my mind, are rod boats, obviously strong and well proven by world circumnavigations and thousands of safely completed ocean passages around the Pacific but, nevertheless, lacking vertical inner and outer reinforcement to halve the matrix should severe impact ever occur!

‘An earlier designer advocated the removal of frames after the hull is plastered, definitely not a practice I condone! They are integral permanent structural framing vital to the design’s ultimate strength! Having repaired a ferro vessel that had broken its mooring, beached and fractured its side while pounding as the tide receded, re-convinced me of the frame’s vital structural importance!

‘Also my frames are parcelled, wrapped in four inch vermin hexagonal ½ inch netting prior to positioning in situ. That way voids are eliminated. This area is frequently troublesome using other methods.’