A Case for the small(er) Motorsailer

For some time now, I have with interest been following the discourse on this forum in regards to Motorsailer design, past and present, and it has been my impression that it mostly pertains to larger craft of at least 45’ length overall. I understand that one of the primary points of motorsailer design is comfort. I also comprehend that this is more easily achieved in a larger vessel. However, a 65’ vessel is not an affordable proposition for the average bloke, nor is it a practical one for visiting many of the tiny, picturesque and often shallow harbours of Northern Europe. Furthermore, most serious cruising is done with a Mom & Pop crew, often in their golden years, and this in itself limits the useful size for comfortable handling. To preempt any wayward discussion on this last point: I have considerable experience sailing larger craft, both short and singlehanded.



In this context I would like to make the case for the smaller, cruising (motor)sailer in and around the 30’ category.



Before all else, I think it is important to define what the term cruising means. By all accounts as well as my own experience and that of any knowledgeable person I’ve ever talked to, it presumes the elements of longer onboard habitation combined with travel on and across water.

This does not include daysailing down the sound, an overnighter in the next bay, nor a weekend away to Dartmouth with the family or your bowling team. It also does not include permanent living on board, tied up to a dock and where the boat, in most instances, seldom ventures out.

It also presupposes that the safe and stress-free arrival at the destination harbour and the relative comfort with which that is achieved, are more important than the all-out speed at which the process is accomplished.



There is no doubt that the requirements of comfort, in terms of ship motion, carrying capacity for equipment, gear, tools, supplies and tankage to ensure a modicum of autonomy, the ground tackle and spare anchors to keep you in place upon arrival, demand that the boat have the ability, structural strength and, conversely, the displacement to do so.



That said, I am not at all sure that the current, general offerings on the new yacht market and to be certain, in the around 30’ category, meet these requirements.

As an almost inevitable result and as the search for the ephemerally light boat has intensified, boats have gotten bigger and bigger to meet the real world needs of proper cruising, apart from the fact that the build of sub 35’, solid cruisers is purportedly no longer economically viable.



It has been our observation that even much larger boats seem to have trouble carrying the necessary supplies or meet the cruising needs of even a small crew. Up in Shetland, when it becomes obvious that most boats have travelled some distance to get there and now the wheat has been successfully separated from the chaff, as it were, we noticed that we were either the smallest or among the smallest boats there. However, especially among the largest demographic, which were the Norwegians and who had had to cross the North Sea, almost all the larger production line types carried rows of extra fuel tanks along their rails, moreover, everyone had some form of complete canvas cockpit enclosure. As our Norwegian friends assured us, they do sail with these contraptions up and in place. Judging by the weather we experienced in Norway and Shetland, it would be hard to blame them. Foul weather gear hanging in the companion way to dry is one of the hallmarks of Scottish and Shetland cruising.





In any of the discussions I’ve ever taken part in, I have been assured that our or any other 30’ cruiser of a certain displacement and capable of carrying the amount of gear we need and do, including bikes, dinghy & outboard, proper tools, 350 litres of water and 270 litres of fuel for power and heating, 3 anchors with chain and rode, a proper stove/oven and pots to cook in, decent plates to eat off and real glass to drink from in a civilised manner, as well as enough wine in the bilge to weather an alcoholic drought of Scandinavian proportions, would have the performance and seakeeping ability of a halftide rock.



It is true, she will not plane. But neither will that super-light flyer with the single burner stove and the finger bowl size sink, once loaded in the same way. We didn’t notice many of that type dashing through the Scottish rain, either, come to think of it. In fact and on occasion we have sailed right past some supposedly much faster 30-odd footers and in light going. (Trust me, that’s physics, not some miracle)

On passage and with our enlarged rig (SA/D 17.8, in stead of the standard 9.6), we seem to rather consistently average something around 6.4 kn, occasionally better. Under sail that is and on passages of 200 miles or more. For a tub floating on a 28’ DWL and containing the entire household clobber of a secondary residence, that is more than acceptable. She quite easily manages 7.5 kn, occasionally 8 kn and better.

Yes, she does go to weather. Not brilliantly, but again, acceptably, like most real cruisers. On that note, most cruising boats seem to motor to windward, no matter how capable, though we often get the impression that we still try harder than others.



While we are at it, let’s talk about the motor. Our’s has 58 hp, which works out to be 7,1Hp per ton and is about twice the Hp/ton of an average auxiliary. The beast weighs 250kg with a heavy duty transmission. It sounds less ominous when you think of it as dual purpose ballast. Engine access is the best I’ve ever encountered and most certainly on a 30 footer: the wheelhouse floor folds up to let you stand on either side and to work on the engine without the need for contortionist acrobatics or having to hang head down into a hot abyss while checking on something while at sea. Not withstanding that we much prefer to sail, this trusty piece of equipment has often gotten us into port and over the last few miles, against some truly terrible weather, when others would have been stuck out there to fight through a nasty night at sea.





On the topic of nasty weather: Best of all, she has a wheelhouse, a proper one with superb all-round visibility, full standing headroom and seating on either tack, something only few motorsailers have.

We live in it. We eat here, enjoy the views of all the fabulous places we visit. Heated comfort and shelter from the elements included. There is a level entry from the cockpit which, in good weather, creates one large living space between the two.

Too much windage, I’m told from a guy with a full dodger/cockpit enclosure, lee cloths, roll bar with antennae farm, wind generator and solar panels on top. Sure, whatever.





This old girl draws 4’4” (1.34 m) and we have legs for a drying harbour too. Shallow draft is the entry ticket to the best anchor spots and and to some of the most ridiculously spectacular and quaint harbours around Europe. Period.

We have fond memories of a tiny mouse hole of a port in Ireland. The entire village and it’s keen youth seemed to be there to help us tie up. Something out of a novel: freckled kids, friendly locals, a mysterious, beautiful accent, charming little town. Moorage was free. Boats with 1.90m draft and a ballast bomb need not apply.

Besides, a long keel with encapsulated ballast appears to be a safer proposition for the dodgy, rock-strewn cruising grounds we seem to favour.

According to the Delft keel study, the difference between the best deep keel variant and a much shallower long keel version was 5%. Make of that what you will.

Whatever the disadvantages may be, it is a small price to pay.



At sea, any sea, even a quartering one, she tracks like a train, even in boisterous conditions, gusting to 30kn and under full sail. Not once has she ever shown the slightest inclination to broach, least not since we fixed her rudder/deadwood situation.



Equally, she never shows any tendency to excessive rolling, while underway or downwind, even under spinnaker.



Her high, flared bow and generous freeboard keeps most of the salty brine where it belongs. We can sit comfortably in her deep fore deck well with a blanket over our knees, while racing along at well over 7knots, the bow wave a constant rumble below us and nary a drop coming over to spoil our tea or enjoyment.



Thus far, our 31.5’ sea travelling machine.





On the whole, I cannot but think that the small Motorsailer has to be the unloved stepchild of yacht design.

Many designs are handicapped from the outset by frustratingly tiny rigs with miserably low SA/D ratios and ineffective ketch rigs on even the smallest units with mizzens the size of beach towels.

I do wonder at times, whether the primary target group for this type of vessel was/is terrified of the water or has, at some time or another, suffered some debilitating trauma in connection with sailing. I suspect some seek comfort in what they feel is a small and hence, more manageable sail area and find some reassurance in the motor part of the term motorsailer. After all, every car has one and that could be considered a known factor, whereas sails must be something mysterious, if not downright frightening.

This is not helped much by the relevant industry: one British manufacturer considered it a pertinent selling point that their diminutive 25 footer did not require reefing until engaged in a F8, regardless of the fact that such conditions are well beyond the realm of normal, recreational sailing.



Ted Brewer, among others, suggested that a minimum SA/D for a motorsailer should be between 13 and 14. Yet many examples do not even manage something close to 10, our own brand included, with the exception of the 28 footer, which has just over 11, and only a very few other models actually make it to the recommended benchmark.

8 is a motorboat with steady sail. The Germanic Lloyd certainly thinks so. It is considered that with so little sail area a boat would not be able to escape the dangers of a lee shore. Apparently, going onto the rocks in mild conditions still counts as going onto the rocks.





Low SA/D numbers and high D/L ratios, sometimes in the high 400s or more, have given the motorsailer a bad repute. Extend this approach to the often inefficient, simplistic rigs (there should be a law against after market behind the mast reefing systems), blunt hull shapes, hydrodynamically indifferent rudder and deadwood configurations, as with the Watson series, you begin to get the picture how such a sad reputation has been arrived at.

Consequently and over the years, the marketing departments of the yachting industry have well exhausted all and any of the available pseudonyms, and created some more in the process, for what to call “a boat with inside steering that can sail and motor”. Anything, but call it a motorsailer, from full-powered auxiliary, to deck salon power sailer and the newest has to be the “monomaran”, just to name a few.

As the once proud wheelhouses grew lower and lower, until you could no longer look over the bow and would have more all-around visibility from a pill box in trench warfare, the canvas dodgers and cockpit enclosures grew taller and bigger. Quite a few of of the motorsailer type now have both: dodgers and inside steering, as I presume that the views from the inside may be rather limited, never mind the one out back and of that freighter sneaking up on your stern.



Alas, as progress appears to run in circles, inside or sheltered steering seems to be on the up and coming again. Open 60’s, racing along at 30 knots are now permitted to provide some form of shelter to their crews and a new breed of cruising boat, that recognises that comfort requires a modicum of displacement, have made an appearance, glamorously called “expedition yachts” - sort of a seagoing variance on the zebra-striped, safariesque Land Rovers, those with the stacks of spare tires on the roof. The besotted Youtube presenter will exitedly gush on about how you can tell it’s a real “expedition yacht”, because, you know, it has an inside steering station from where the skipper can watch his crew of dedicated penguin researchers chip away at the ice of the deck. No matter, they do apparently now come with a washer dryer combo.

Be that as it may, at a cost of the better part of of a million bucks for the base model, which at 45’ is still called a “mini”, we have now arrived full circle to the size and complexity of the models previously discussed on this forum. Whether these modern incarnations have the elegance and beauty of the classic William Hand or Alden design is on a different page.





And this is where I make the case for a different “micro” expedition yacht, formerly known as a small motorsailer. It can be had on the used market for the price equivalency a medium size car, including the go fast modifications, if you are at all a bit handy. It will take you safely and comfortably to many of the places you have always dreamed of, where most other boats rarely go and without the ordeal of having to spend much of your time living in damp foulies.



It need not, in cruising terms and on average, be any slower than other similar sized boats, given some considered upgrades.

Running and operating costs are a fraction of their bigger sisters and without acres of underwater area, antifouling can easily be managed by a geriatric crew and between tides.



Last season we cruised some 3000 miles, not withstanding that the weather was brutal at times and the more socially aware and younger generation have now begun to offer us their seat on public transport.



Finally, not as a discouragement, but more as a heads up: not every smaller motorsailer can stand up to a much larger rig and some research into the matter is in order, but a great many models have plenty of room for improvement, especially as the bar for that can be quite low.

 

A motorsailor is a vessel that attains cruising speed under sail of power. That includes all the vessels sold nowadays as sailboat with an installed engine.

 

I think that is a rather too simplistic a definition, in as much as it has now become accepted that the term motorsailer includes some form of inside/covered steering, as in a proper wheelhouse, perhaps. I have sailed on boats with canvas dodgers, hard dodgers, deck salons and proper wheelhouses, some over many thousands of miles, offshore , over open water and occasionally in harsh and stormy conditions. There is absolutely no comparison whatsoever between the other variants and a real wheelhouse.

To be sure, the are a number of boats that are identified as a motorsailer that would not reach "classic" hull speed under sail, least not in conditions that do not lead to sudden sphincter malfunction. Additionally, boats with D/L ratios in the high 400's are not likely to ever exceed this either, particularly when crippled by the low SA/D ratios, common to some brands.

It is a fallacy to presume that somehow all boats are the same, just because they happen to have sails and a motor. I always find it rather amusing when some O.C.D. harbour master insists on rafting up all the 30 odd footers together. It makes them all look like toys next to our boat. That is not only a question of volume, but also one of carrying capacity and, subsequently of seaworthiness. The other boats would likely struggle to carry the supplies and clobber needed for a 4 month cruise. There is a difference.

 

Let me try another tack in order to define the concept of motorsailer, as it were.

A few years ago we had sailed up to Baltic. It was Fall and the weather rather nasty and stormy.
Along the Westcoast of Sweden we were holed up for some time waiting for things to settle down. Finally it was deemed save to proceed and we carried on in company with another 30' boat, one hat would closely fit your definition of a more contemporary "motorsailer".
All went well for the next 4 hrs, on a comfortable offshore reach, until we arrived at the next cape and found us heading straight into a force 8-9. The sea was white with breaking water. rather than turn around and head back the 4 hours, we started the engine and decided to head up a mere 3.5 miles to a tiny harbour straight into the maelstrom. Running the engine at high load, we were barely able to make much headway, no more than 2 -2.5 kn at best. The ride was so wild that the lockers down below threw up their contents and we took over so much spray that the Dorade boxes were overwhelmed. I took us well over an hour to make port and we had some heart-stopping moments when we struggled to make out the narrow entrance in the rapidly shallowing and confused mayhem. Sliding into the still waters of the tiny harbour can only be described as surreal.
The other boat was not able to make headway under power and against this wind and sea and so he tried under sail. We kept an anxious lookout for the lone sailor and finally, 3 hours after us, he managed to come in and only because of a brief respite in the wind. The boat and it's skipper were soaking wet and the latter exhausted and in a severe state of shock.

This is what defines a motorsailer: to be able to make way to weather and under power in conditions when a standard auxiliary is no longer able. As it were, this is also how Francis Kinney, who during his time at S&S designed a number of motorsailers, defines it.
It is not about achieving "hull speed" in a flat calm, but raw seagoing power when the chips are down.