There are certain matters in life that are just sure things, where you go in realizing that professionals are involved and you’re in good hands. You walk into a theater for a Meryl Streep film, and you know the acting’s covered. You board a Qantas flight understanding there is zero chance it will fall from the skies. You cut into a steak at a Ruth’s Chris knowing that it is about to melt in your mouth. If only everything was this way.

In sailing, thankfully, there are lots of givens: Harken hardware, Edson steering, Raymarine electronics, LeisureFurl in-boom furling mainsails. Boats equipped with these brands have those items all figured out. And here’s one more nautical surety, as reliable as the sun rising in the east: When you step aboard a yacht designed by seasoned naval architect Tim Jackett, you do so with the realization that it’s been extremely well thought out, that there has been a reassuring attention to detail, that it will sail like a bloody witch, that it will do precisely what it was created to do.

Which brings us to the latest ­example of Jackett’s vision, the Tartan 395 (which, not coincidentally, is fitted out with all the gear previously mentioned).

Like many American builders, Tartan Yachts, which is based in Ohio, has had its share of ups and downs in recent times. But Jackett is now one of the principal owners, and judging from the introduction of its new 39-footer at last fall’s U.S. Sailboat Show in Annapolis, Maryland, the company has again found its footing.

As Boat of the Year judge Tim Murphy said after inspecting the yacht, “It’s really nice to see Tartan back again. This is an interesting boat. It really brings together some nice elements of craftsmanship. You step below, and the big deck cowls are bringing lots of good air through there, and it’s just very comfortable. And you sit down in the cabin with that light maple finish (cherry and teak are also available), and it just looks and feels good. You feel like some real craftsmen have put this interior together.”

One thing Jackett is loath to do is fix things that aren’t broken, and so the 395 boasts features that have proved tried and true on previous appealing designs. Chief among these is Tartan’s elegant and versatile CCR (cruise control rig) sail plan, composed of double headsails (a self-tacking jib on an inner stay, a code zero reacher on the outer), set off a light double-spreader carbon-fiber spar. This configuration is an effective, efficient way to shift gears quickly depending on changes in the breeze or on the point of sail.

Nor has Jackett fussed much with the lines of the boat; it has a handsome, traditional-looking profile, with a very gentle sheer line, a relatively long coachroof, and stout coamings framing a deep and cozy ­cockpit. If your taste slants more toward slab-sided, expansive Euro topsides and contemporary razor-sharp hull chines, look elsewhere. This right here is a homegrown product of ’Merica, son.

It’s also a well-constructed one. Several generations of Tartans have now been built in an infusion process employing modified epoxy resin (not polyester like so many of its competitors) in a laminate that is sandwiched around closed-cell foam coring in the hull and balsa core in the deck. Tartan eschews the iron ballast many builders use in favor of good old lead (there are three underbodies available, including an optional deep fin, the standard “beaver tail” fixed keel or a keel/centerboard). Thanks to the company owning its own autoclave, not only is the rig carbon, but so is the rudderstock. Bottom line? There’s no squelching on materials.

“The anchoring system was beautiful, with polished stainless-steel chain, a stainless-steel anchor and a big, beautiful windlass,” said BOTY judge Alvah Simon. “It’s a good old-fashioned interior layout that just works. The pushpit, pulpit, stanchions, lifelines and gates are all terrific. The deck hardware is of high quality and well-installed. The little things really add up on this boat.”

Moving on, there’s a whole lot happening in the cockpit. In addition to the two pedestals for the twin steering wheels, there’s a third pedestal of sorts just forward of and between the helms, where the engine and lights controls are housed, as well as the Raymarine chart plotter. Built into the transom is a fold-down step to access a modest swim and boarding platform. The idea with the dual wheels and the transom door is to create a natural ergonomic flow from the companionway to the stern, but to be honest, it’s pretty busy terrain.

During our sailing trials, I absolutely loved driving the boat — it sailed great, like all Jackett’s boats, especially when we eased sheets in a nice Chesapeake Bay norther and the boat trucked along at an effortless 7 knots. However, the seats at the wheel seemed low, and I never could get totally comfortable. That said, I quite liked the German-style mainsheet that was ­double-ended port and ­starboard to big winches ­within easy reach of the driver.

Down below, there’s a tidy double cabin aft to starboard; a generous shower stall and head is to port. The forward-facing navigation station and a good-size galley are stationed to port and starboard, respectively, of the companionway. Comfortable settees flank a central dining table in the main saloon; there’s a second double cabin all the way forward. Eight opening ports overhead in the cabin emit plenty of welcoming fresh air. The Tartan 395 is not quite as beamy as the competing boats in its size range in the 2019 BOTY fleet, but resting there and taking in the surroundings, things felt snug and secure. Two words, ultimately, came to mind.

Proper. Yachting.

Herb McCormick is CW’s executive editor.

Tartan 395 Specifications

Tartan Yachts
440-392-2628
tartanyachts.com

Sea Trial

For a complete guide to ­Cruising World’s extensive online boat ­reviews and to request reprints from our older print archives of reviews, go to cruisingworld.com/sailboat-reviews.

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Sparkman & Stephens. Ron Holland. Germán Frers. In the storied history of Nautor’s Swan, one of the world’s most established and respected brands of production cruising boats, with the exception of several race boats in the Club Swan line, the company has employed the services of precisely three naval architects, legends all. Since the 1980s, though, the principal designer has been Frers, and during that time, the company has perhaps become best known for its line of “maxi” yachts, ranging from a relatively modest 60-footer to the whopping Swan 132.

And I thought my first ­memorable Swan experience, decades ago, on the very cool S&S-designed 44, was one sweet ride.

With the launching last year of the new Swan 54, however, both the builder and the creator have returned to their roots (Frers’ first Swan, in 1981, was the 51). However, if you’re looking for an example of how designs have evolved over the past few decades, consider the initial, very different, appearances of the 51 and the 54.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the deck layout. The 51 was a veritable winch farm (there were at least a dozen of them, scattered hither and yon from the mast to the wheel); the 54’s spanking clean decks are completely uncluttered (there are but four electric winches, gracing the cockpit coaming, and even the running rigging is stashed in conduits beneath the deck). As with many big early Swans, on the 51, there’s not one dedicated cockpit but two, one for the sail handlers (and the companionway) and the other for the driver. The 54 has but a single expansive one. And of course, the 54 has twin wheels, a ubiquitous feature on today’s contemporary cruisers, and an unimaginable one in the early 1980s.

Yet it’s in the ends of the new boat that we see the greatest changes and innovations, and they’re striking. Forward, the self-launching anchor is beyond nifty, and coupled with the gargantuan sail locker, that’s one interesting bow. Aft, the boarding platform created when the wide, electrically controlled transom is lowered is nothing less than a sweet private sun deck (take that, pinched sterns of yore!). Both of these features are superbly executed.

Actually, the same could be said of the entire vessel. Like every bulletproof yacht ever constructed in the rugged Finnish town of Pietarsaari, the 54 is built like a veritable brick outhouse. Closed-cell foam is employed throughout the cored, vinylester-sandwich layup: in the hull, the structural bulkheads and the teak deck. Watertight bulkheads separate the lazarette and forepeak from the central interior space. Our test boat was equipped with the fixed deep (8 feet 1 inch), standard lead keel and a single rudder, though a “variable draft” daggerboard version with twin rudders is also available for those seeking more range, in skinnier waters, from their prospective cruising grounds (it draws 4 feet 6 ­inches with the board down).

Related: Nautor’s ClubSwan 50

The oak interior is handsome and well finished. There are three sleeping cabins: the master stateroom all the way forward, with an expansive island berth; a guest cabin just forward of the beam, to port, which may offer the coziest sea berths on passage; and another cabin to port, aft of the companionway, which can be ­specified as a double or with two single berths. An aft utility cabin to starboard is an ideal space for a workbench, the generator and even a washing machine, though the room could also be set up as a crew cabin, as it was on our test boat. The central dining area is to port; to starboard lies the L-shaped galley, loads of ­counter space and a forward-facing navigation table. A pair of heads on opposite sides of the boat flanks the forward and aft sides of the central saloon, respectively. All in all, it’s a straightforward but very efficient use of space.

Back topside, there’s a rather ingenious dodger built right into the cockpit coaming, which is easily raised or stashed when needed (you’d want to lose it when club racing, and this would be a grand boat on which to do Caribbean events like the St. Maarten Heineken Regatta and Antigua Sailing Week). The sloop rig features a double-spreader carbon Seldén spar and a split hydraulic backstay; a pair of pad eyes on the bow are set up for the tacks of asymmetric spinnakers. There’s no traveler for the double-­ended mainsheet, led to a pair of winches just forward of the helmsman. All other sheets and reefing lines are led below deck to another set of cockpit winches and a suite of attendant control clutches. A handy couple will have no worries taming this steed.

Sadly, on the day we took the 54 for a spin on Chesapeake Bay, we did not have the breeze necessary to put the boat through its proper paces. With a wimpy 3 knots of early morning autumn winds, we managed a couple of gasping knots of boat speed both on and off the zephyrs. It was disappointing because we had no doubt the boat would get up and gallop in any sort of reasonable blow. Under power, we were a bit surprised that the 110 hp Yanmar (on a traditional straight-line shaft — no saildrive) didn’t pack a bit more punch, yielding under 9 knots when opened up. It was the only question mark in my notebook at day’s end.

In other words, I was pretty darn smitten with the Swan 54. It not only joins the legacy of a proud and prosperous enterprise, it more than holds its own.

Herb McCormick is CW’s ­executive editor.

SWAN 54 Specifications

Nautor’s Swan USA
401-846-1090
nautorswan.com

Sea Trial

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Over the years I’ve enjoyed some pretty special moments under sail: steering a big sloop downwind in the Pacific trades en route to Hawaii, crossing the Atlantic on a powerful 60-foot cat, rounding Cape Horn under spinnaker on a stout steel cutter. But nothing — and I mean nothing — quite prepared me for the pure, sheer joy of driving the exquisite HH66 on a tight reach on Chesapeake Bay.

Sitting in the comfortable molded seat outboard and aft on the portside quarter (an identical helm is situated to starboard), with one hand I grasped the light, balanced tiller; at the same time, the fingertips of my other hovered over the push buttons in the armrest that controlled all the critical sailhandling and performance features. Without even moving, the traveler (up and down), main and jib sheets (in and out), and daggerboards (raised and lowered) were at my command. So too was the “panic button” you’d press to immediately dump and de-power the mainsail and vang in the unfortunate circumstance of becoming suddenly overpowered in a gusty breeze. One must pay close attention when driving this steed.

I must confess that it was hard to do while tearing across the bay in a sweet 12- to 14-knot breeze. Bearing off in the lulls and feathering up in the puffs, steering the boat was a dynamic experience, like driving a Porsche on a winding road. Meanwhile, the speedo ascended in ever-increasing increments: 8.2 knots, 10.4 knots, 12.5 knots. It seemed effortless, as if it was all unfolding in slow motion. That is, until you glanced over the side and saw the water rushing past in a blue blur. That, my friends, is entertainment.

Our Boat of the Year judging team was justifiably impressed with the cat. “Holy moly, it’s a carbon 66-foot catamaran that displaces less than 40,000 pounds,” said Tim Murphy. “This clearly is not for mere mortals; it’s a boat that’s intended to be sailed with a professional crew, and they’d need some serious training to handle it. It’s designed by Morrelli & Melvin, and it’s a boat where they talk upfront about flying a hull on a big cruise-worthy catamaran, as if it were a Hobie cat. Along with foiling, as we saw in the America’s Cup, this is a new concept in how we sail our boats. To go out there and do that on purpose is remarkable.”

“I’d agree with the excitement as far as the sailing performance goes,” said Ed Sherman. “With the tiller in hand (there is also an inside steering station like the one on the HH55; see “The Future is Now,” opposite), and the ready access to the sailing controls, it was a great experience because the tiller is so light and easy. The boat just snaps to with every move you make. So that was quite a treat. But I do agree that this isn’t a couples boat, or at least one that a couple would sail alone. There’s just too much going on. I don’t see a ­middle-aged husband-and-wife team sailing this boat around the world, at least without having some people on board to help them out.”

“I didn’t know that sailing a high-performance 66-foot catamaran with a tiller was on my bucket list, but I’ve added it to my mine and checked it off!” said Bill Bolin. “You’d want some experienced hands to help sail it. I think I counted 19 ‘strings’ — halyards, sheets, reefing lines and so forth — in the forward cockpit, where all the actual job of sailing the boat takes place. That’s a lot to keep track of.”

“Our heads were spinning,” seconded Murphy, to which Bolin replied, “Exactly right!”

Like its 55-foot sister ship, the workmanship on the HH66 is simply impeccable. The construction materials and details are similar to the smaller boat. It would be impossible to describe all the neat features of the boat in a short review. The staterooms are luxurious, and the builder encourages customization in the accommodations plan. A locker with the generator, hydraulics, batteries and so forth is located forward, for ideal weight distribution. The coachroof of our test boat was adorned with a couple dozen flexible solar panels to maximize energy independence. Heck, the bloody boat we inspected had a built-in piano!

Of course, all this ­technology and craftsmanship comes at a cost, in this example north of $4 million. It’s ­obviously not for the faint of ­wallet. But as a testament to how far contemporary boat ­design and ­execution has evolved, it’s nothing less than an ­engineering marvel. As for ­sailing the HH66, some would call it a near-spiritual ­experience. And they’d get no argument from me.

Herb McCormick is CW’s ­executive editor.

The post HH66 Catamaran Review appeared first on Cruising World.

If you truly loved catamarans, if money were no object, if you wanted high performance but also wished for a boat that you could actually sail as a couple, if state-of-the-art carbon-fiber construction were something you could really understand and appreciate, what would you buy?

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the HH55.

Built in China to exacting standards, and created by the renowned multihull designers and partners Gino Morrelli and Pete Melvin, the HH55 looks and feels like something conceived and launched in a future time and place, and deposited here in 2018 as if by time machine. Tellingly, the naval ­architects, Morrelli and ­Melvin, and one of the principal boatbuilders, New Zealander Paul Hakes, were all involved in the development and evolution of the original Gunboat brand. With the HH55, they’ve taken that concept and run with it.

The 55-footer certainly looks and feels like a next-generation Gunboat. The hulls maximize the waterline length and boast what might be called a reverse sheer line, and the bows, which look slick and pierce waves, are swept slightly aft. And there are definitely some overlapping features to a Gunboat, the most prominent being the forward steering station inside the central saloon (though you can also opt for twin wheels aft) that opens up to a forward cockpit where all the sheets, halyards and reefing lines live. It’s clean, functional and has withstood the test of modern times.

The materials and technology incorporated in the HH55 would not be out of place on Starship Enterprise. Carbon fiber is employed throughout in a sandwich laminate that incorporates infused epoxy resins and Core-Cell foam cores, which makes the boat lean and strong and also provides sound and heat insulation. Rod rigging is eschewed in favor of light, durable aramid fibers. The fractional spar and V-shaped boom are prepreg carbon that’s baked in an autoclave. A CZone digital control and monitoring system, linked to a B&G ­Hercules central processing unit, provides a seamless electrical interface among all electronic components and state-of-the-art autopilots and sailing instruments. It’s all powered by lithium-ion batteries.

In the interior layout, customization is both available and encouraged. On the model we tested, the owners suite spanned the length of the entire port hull, with a comfortable double berth aft and a large head with an enormous shower stall, forward. The starboard hull housed double cabins in the ends, with separate heads. The main cabin is airy and equipped with an ample galley, dedicated nav station and spacious dining area; sliding glass doors open up to create a vast, seamless space between the interior saloon and the outdoor aft cockpit, which features a second dining table, sun bed, wet bar and barbecue. Luxurious is the word that readily leaps to mind.

Not surprisingly, the bloody boat sails like a witch. The curved carbon daggerboards maximize the performance and control. The helm is as smooth and silky as can be. During our test sail on Chesapeake Bay, in about 11 knots of true wind, the HH55 slipped through the water like a hot knife through butter. During our Boat of the Year contest, only one boat surpassed the 55’s sailing prowess, its bigger, more powerful sister, the HH66 (see “Hook In and Hang On,” opposite).

Our BOTY judges were smitten by the yacht. Bill Bolin was impressed with the arrangement and functionality of the galley: “I thought it was exceptional. It’s U-shaped and very deep. The crew would be out of the way of the traffic patterns, with people moving around and going in and out of either hull or the staterooms or heads. It was very well thought out.” Ed Sherman said, “I like the way it’s laid out. The builders have demonstrated that they can build a cruising-­oriented boat that offers a good turn of speed and performance, but a couple can run it without outside assistance. It’s a really cool boat.”

Of course, with a price tag over $2.5 million, it better be. But for those well-heeled enough to afford it, it might just be a bargain. It’s hard to imagine more fun at any price.

Herb McCormick is CW’s executive editor.

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At a press event during the Miami International Boat Show last winter, the Lagoon 50 was described by a company spokeswoman as being “the most open-minded catamaran on the market.” That’s a statement that could be taken in a number of ways.

First, there are the ­multiple social areas encompassed by the boat’s 48-foot-5-inch LOA and 26-foot-7-inch beam. There are dining tables indoors and out, lounge areas astern and forward. Overhead, the flybridge offers more room to gather or get away. The crew could sunbathe on cushions that store in a locker built into the Bimini, or take a seat by the wheel and help out with the sailing, though, to be ­honest, with autopilot, a self-tacking jib and electric winches at your fingertips, it’s possible to keep things simple. Then again, roll out the optional genoa and sheet it home, and things can get sporty, real quick.

We tried a little of both in some breeze after the show. With a reef in the main and the self-tending jib trimmed home, coming about required turning the wheel and adjusting the traveler using the nearby ­electric Harken line drive.

Later, with the big (­optional) headsail set, well, I was happy to have a couple of extra sets of hands to help sort out steering, blowing one sheet and trimming the other, and keeping track of the high-aspect square-top main. For the record, ­beating in about 15 knots of breeze, the speedo ranged from 5.6 to 6.2 knots; with the genoa unfurled and on a reach, the GPS read 9 knots and change.

Open-minded could also refer to the range of layouts available. The cat we sailed featured an owners suite in the starboard hull with an island-style double berth aft, a head with separate shower in the bow and a walk-in dressing room inboard and just forward of the companionway to the saloon. Portside, there were cabins fore and aft with en-suite separate head and shower. Instead of a dressing room, there was a cavernous storage space inboard. If desired, the port heads could be reconfigured to create three single-stall heads with showers, and the storage space could be transformed into another double cabin. And if an owner chose to forgo a master suite, a six-cabin, six-head layout is also available, though to me, 12 crew even on a 50-footer seems tight.

All that room for variation below translated into abundant living space above. Stepping aboard from the optional fold-down swim and tender platform, a long couch spanned the transom, with storage on the port end and a barbecue on the other that can be spun around so you can cook either from the cockpit or transom stairs. A teak table was forward to port, located nearby the L-shaped galley just inside the saloon. With both its leaves open, the table seats 12. Opposite was a cushioned couch alongside a fridge, ice maker and sink.

Entering the saloon, you step into the cook’s domain, with L-shaped Corian counters to either side of the sliding glass door. To port, there was sink, cooktop, oven and microwave; to starboard sat a fridge, freezer and storage. Ahead, an island offered yet more locker and counter space, and it served as a transition to a raised living area that was a step higher than the rest of the bridgedeck. A full-size nav station was to starboard. Forward of that, a U-shaped couch wrapped around the front of the saloon. In the center, there was a clever table arrangement: Upright, it was for dining; tipped aft and lowered on its hinged legs, it rested against the island (which also housed a retractable flat-screen TV) and became a place to set cocktails or popcorn on movie night.

There was yet more seating on the foredeck, where ­another U-shaped couch (forward-­facing this time) surrounded another small table. The builder designed the center saloon window so it lowered to let in the breeze or so crew inside and out could converse.

The 50 comes standard with a pair of 57 hp Yanmars. The boat we sailed was powered with optional 80 hp Yanmars. The option list included a number of other upgrades, including an 11 kW Onan genset, which brought the price tag to just about 1.07 million euros (roughly $1.32 million, depending on currency fluctuations).

Lagoon has bigger boats in its range, but they’re designed with a captain and crew in mind. The 50 is meant for the owner and mates who’ve outgrown their 45-footer but still want to go off voyaging on their own, and can do so thanks to a networked plotter and autopilot, a bow thruster, a self-tacking jib and power winches. When it comes down to what’s possible, it pays to keep an open mind.

Mark Pillsbury is CW’s editor.

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Conditions in Miami’s Government Cut were nearly perfect for testing the new Lagoon 40’s waterproof hatches. With a stiff onshore wind blowing straight down the channel to meet a brisk outgoing current, the cat’s bows plowed repeatedly into seriously steep waves, sending green water up and over the cabin top and raised helm, soaking Lagoon’s managing director, Yann Masselot, who happened to be at the wheel. Beneath the Bimini, though, sitting at the teak cockpit dining table and enjoying the splendid view — ahead through wraparound windows and astern across the wide-open transom — the ride was thoroughly dry and comfortable, as it should be on a catamaran capable of long-range cruising.

The 40 replaces a 39-footer in the Lagoon range as well as the popular Lagoon 400, which is being phased out after a 10-year run. Like its big sister, the Lagoon 50, it bears the look of a new generation of catamarans from the French builder.

Both boats were designed by a longtime Lagoon collaborator, naval architectural firm Van Peteghem-Lauriot Prévost, with exterior styling by Patrick Le Quément and an interior by Nauta Design. They made their North American debut last winter at the Miami International Boat Show.

This latest breed of Lagoons still carries the brand’s vertical saloon windows, but its cabin roofs and Biminis have evolved and now seem to float atop the house. Larger ports are embedded in the hulls, bringing loads of light into the living space within, and the masts have been located farther aft (reflecting lessons VPLP has learned from its racing multihulls). The new sail plan translates into larger headsails and higher-aspect-­ratio square-topped mains for increased power.

Once in open water, we cut the engines and sailed first with a full main and the self-tacking jib set. The breeze wavered between 15 and 20 knots and moved us along closehauled at 7 knots through boisterous chop. On a broad reach and with the (optional) genoa unfurled, I saw 7.8 to 8 knots on the GPS, which jumped to 9 on occasion as we took off surfing. Good stuff.

I found the raised helm station on the 40 to be quite user friendly. You could reach it from both the cockpit and the side deck, and from the two-person seat, visibility was good on all four corners of the boat. An overhead canvas Bimini provided protection from the elements, but was fitted with roll-up flaps and windows so you could see the sails overhead. Winches were within reach, and with all lines led to the helm, trimming and tacking shorthanded was straightforward.

Lagoon these days infuses its balsa-cored hulls (solid fiberglass below the waterline), bridgedecks and decks with polyester resin and a layer of anti-osmotic resin to prevent blistering.

Interior furniture on the 40 is made from a walnut-colored Alpi; the dark woodwork and leather accents on things like stainless handrails contrast smartly with light-colored fabrics that cover cabin sides and ceilings.

The boat we sailed had a single owners cabin in the port hull. Its queen-size berth was aft and a head and separate shower forward, with storage spaces and a desk in between. There were cabins fore and aft in the starboard hull, each with queen-size bunks and hanging lockers. They shared a large head and separate shower amidships. The 40 also comes in a four-cabin layout, with either two or four heads.

Upstairs in the saloon, a large dining table is forward to starboard and has an L-shaped couch around it. The nav station is to port; its bench can be moved to add more seats at the table for guests. The galley, also L-shaped, is to port and aft, a convenient location when the sliding saloon door is open because the cockpit table is adjacent to it. Across the cockpit, there’s a lounging area under the helm station; another cushioned, forward-facing bench spans the bridgedeck from transom to transom.

The new design reflects a change in CE regulations that require engine rooms to have hatches that open from the safety of the cockpit. Previously, on most cats, hatches were lifted while standing on the transom or transom steps. In a following sea of any size, the benefit is obvious.

The 40 comes standard with two 29 hp Yanmar ­diesels. Delivered at the factory in France, the base price is just under $330,000. The boat we sailed had optional 45 hp Yanmars and saildrives. The power upgrade, plus a host of other options, brought the sticker price up to just over $540,000.

Forty feet is an attractive size for cruising families and charterers who want to enjoy no-heel sailing and the living space a multihull provides. The length makes the boat easy enough for a shorthanded crew to handle and maintain, but large enough for bluewater passages. The Lagoon 400 had a good 10-year run of it. As its replacement, the 40 should enjoy more of the same, but with a fresh new look.

Mark Pillsbury is CW’s editor.

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Every builder of every new boat has a target clientele in mind. Some seek long-term liveaboards; others want a dual-purpose boat aboard which they can race or cruise. With their latest offering, the Dufour 460 Grand Large, the decision-makers at the venerable French firm zeroed in with laser focus at precisely the type of sailor and owner they were searching for, and their aim — at first glance anyway — seems surprising. What Dufour wants is an experienced sailor who will use their boat primarily for coastal cruising — though the company added the tankage and strength for an occasional offshore passage — but with features and a layout that really heighten the social side of sailing. In other words, the sailing side of the equation is definitely important, but when the hook’s down and the day is done, you’d best be ready to party.

Only after spending a bit of time on the boat do you realize this makes perfect sense.

Dufour has done a couple of interesting things with the layout to facilitate the fun. First, in the main cabin, they have positioned the beam-width galley all the way forward, basically installing it as part of the athwartships bulkhead that delineates the saloon from the forward master stateroom. It really opens up the space for entertaining. Then, because who wouldn’t want a second, outdoor kitchen, they’ve added another pop-up galley in the aft end of the cockpit and incorporated into a helmsman’s seat, the “floor” of which is the drop-down transom. It’s complete with grill, sink and plenty of counter space for whipping up snacks and meals. Yes, this sounds kind of odd. In practice and execution, it’s the bee’s knees.

Having the necessary volume to achieve all this is vitally important, and the 460 has it in spades. Thanks to the hard chine that contributes to the boat’s impressive 14-foot-9-inch beam (which is carried well aft), and to its tall freeboard, the yacht seems even bigger than its 46 feet of overall length. Yet with its fixed standard sprit, long waterline and plumb bow, low-profile coach roof and the judicious addition of three horizontal windows in the hull, the 460 exudes contemporary good looks and appears proportionately sound. It’s almost like a magic trick.

Down below, the forward owner’s cabin features a whopping queen berth with side entries and a “split” head, with a large, dedicated shower stall to port and the toilet to starboard in its own compartment. In the saloon, aft of the unusually placed galley, to port there’s a small settee behind which is a wine rack or the space for a flat-screen TV. To starboard sits the dining table with seating on three sides. A convertible navigation station on a sliding track is situated aft of the outboard settee, and can be configured so the navigator sits facing forward or aft, depending on preference. It can also be raised or lowered to rest ­perpendicular if the boat is heeling underway. A second head is to port, and the floor plan is finished off with a pair of double cabins aft.

On deck, as with most ­modern yachts in this size range, there’s a set of twin wheels with instrumentation in the pedestals and a Raymarine chart plotter in clear view on the aft end of the central cockpit table. Life-raft stowage is under a step abaft the starboard wheel, and there are adjustable foot braces behind each helm so the driver has level footing when the boat is heeled. A double-ended German-­style mainsheet is led to Lewmar winches to port and starboard of the helms; the traveler is forward of the dodger and controlled by winches on the coach roof, as are the halyards and reefing lines, which are led aft under on-deck panels.

The double-spreader fractional rig employs a self-­­tacking jib on its own track just forward of the deck-stepped mast (the compression post for the spar is in the forward owner’s cabin so it doesn’t hinder the open spaces in the saloon). An overlapping 135 percent genoa, the tracks for which are already installed, is an option. The shrouds are positioned well outboard for easy egress forward.

On the bow, the ­roller-­furling unit is mounted in the ­center of the bowsprit, which has a robust pad eye all the way ­forward for tacking asymmetric kites or a Code Zero-type reaching sail. A Lewmar windlass is aft of the sprit and just forward of the good-size sail locker, which also provides easy access to the deep chain locker.

Construction is straightforward, with a hand-laid, solid-fiberglass hull and a one-piece deck that’s injection-­molded. The price of the base boat is around $300,000, but our test boat — fully equipped with electric winches, a generator, air conditioning and ­electronics — topped off at a little over $400,000. Still, it’s a lot of boat for the bucks.

The 460 was designed by Umberto Felci, Dufour’s go-to naval architect, who has built his reputation on yachts that sail very well. We tested the boat in light airs of only 3 to 4 knots on a mellow ­Chesapeake Bay. Yet the performance was still impressive: The boat had little trouble sailing as fast as the wind on a closehauled course, making 3.5 knots in the lulls and 4.5 knots with slightly more pressure. The boat comes with a traditional mainsail and headsail, both from Elvstrom Sails. As the Dufour ­representative pointed out, it would’ve been a perfect day for a Code Zero headsail, which he ­recommended to augment the yacht’s working sails.

All in all, the rather innovative Dufour 460 impressed me. No, it’s not for everyone, especially if your plans include long-range liveaboard ­cruising. However, there’s no question that if what you’re after is a pleasurable ride for coastal jaunts and vacation sailing, and if having a blast once the day is done is a high priority, you’ll find much to like in this versatile 46-footer.

Specifications

Dufour Yachts
352-871-0362
www.dufour-yachts.com

Herb McCormick is CW’s ­executive editor.

The post Dufour 460 Grand Large appeared first on Cruising World.

A few years back, I departed Port Angeles, Washington, on board a fine little Truant 33 named Chesapeake and pointed her bow north toward the wild British Columbia coastline. I was 17 years old, and by then I had perfected the art of avoiding school by pirating the family boat and leaving the country for a few weeks at a time. The fact that I was using a boat called a Truant 33 as a means to enable my truancy was no small irony, but I can thank Truant Marine for a lot more than choosing a tasteful name.

The Truant 33 was designed by the legendary William Garden as a small seaworthy sailing vessel for cruising the cold, turbulent waters of the Pacific Northwest year-round in safety and comfort. Rare on vessels this size, the Truant 33’s pilothouse offers welcome protection from the region’s famous “liquid sunshine.”

The Truant 33 was first built in 1977 on Saltspring Island in British Columbia, where Truant Marine produced 30 or so vessels before selling the molds to Saturna Yachts in 1981. Saturna then built the almost-identical Saturna 33 throughout the ’80s, and eventually sold the molds to Wiggers Yachts in Ontario. There are usually a few used vessels to be found on the market, especially in the Pacific Northwest, with a price tag ranging from $30,000 to $60,000.

The Truant packs many unique features into her modest 33 feet, most notably the incorporation of the pilothouse and a very roomy and usable layout down below for living aboard. For those who prefer a more traditional cabin top, the offshore version was built without a pilothouse.

There are various interpretations of the classic layout, but the most common one is with a quarter berth and nav station to starboard with the inside steering station just forward and a dinette to port, which folds down into a double berth. Moving forward, there is a step down to a small enclosed head and hanging locker to starboard and a galley to port that rivals that of many 40-foot vessels. In the bow is either a large V-berth with stowage under or two staggered crew bunks with one raised to make for even more stowage space below. There is standing headroom throughout the cabin, and space to sleep up to five people.

Abovedecks, the Truant 33 has a very secure cockpit, which is given further protection by the pilothouse. The cockpit is small — a nice feature in heavy seas, but it makes for a bit of a squeeze when accommodating guests — though the roomy cabin makes up for that space.

She has a very prominent bow and canoe stern, which, along with her pilothouse, make her stand out in every harbor she visits.

She also sails surprisingly well for such a heavy boat of this size, and in rough weather gives a feeling of security and seaworthiness. The 30-inch-wide side decks and high bulwarks make it easy and safe to move around deck.

Most Truant 33s were set up as sloops, but I have seen where some owners added an inner forestay and running backstays to convert to a cutter rig. Underneath the waterline, she sports a long fin keel with a rudder on a skeg.

In my sailing career, I have more memories made aboard the Truant 33 than on any other design. Along the way we encountered plenty of challenges, yet she took me there and back again safely every time. And she still does.

Specs

Ryan Langley is a 24-year-old sailor, adventurer and writer from Washington state.

The post Truant 33 appeared first on Cruising World.

If there’s one thing I learned sailing with America’s Cup-winning tactician and television commentator Gary Jobson, it’s that it’s always a race, even when it’s not. “Makes it more fun,” he said.

And fun was definitely what we were having on a sail aboard Serenity, a new Jeanneau 64, on a squally day in the British Virgin Islands. I was there to cover the 2016 Jeanneau owners rendezvous, Jobson was along as a guest speaker for one of the evening events, and the 64 was pretty much the belle of the whole shebang. Our upwind course took us from Norman Island to Virgin Gorda’s North Sound — a sufficient distance to really get a feel for the largest boat in the Jeanneau fleet. The winds averaged 18 to 22 knots with higher gusts. In some boats, these conditions would have proved to be fairly uncomfortable, but the 64 likes a good breeze and handled the puffs in a steady, seakindly manner. The Jefa steering was smooth and predictable, and our speedo easily touched 10 knots. Not a bad way to spend a day, despite the rain.

The 64 is part of Jeanneau’s Yacht line, which includes a 57- and a new 54-foot model. Erik Stromberg, Jeanneau’s sailboat marketing director, says the sailboats in the Yacht range are meant to appeal to couples and are designed to be sailed with or without crew. “The sailing couple tends to invite another couple or some family members on board, so there is a big focus on guest ­comfort and welcoming spaces,” says Stromberg.

But there’s much more to the 64 than just the comfort level. Some may consider this boat just a big Jeanneau, because it is; but then again, it isn’t. Think of it more as a small superyacht, since it’s the big-boat ­features that really set the 64 apart. As you step aboard, the first thing you’ll notice is the size of the ­cockpit, which occupies over 40 percent of the deck area. The space is clearly divided between work and play. An overhead arch keeps the mainsheet out of the way, and trimming it is a push-button affair for the helmsman. A Harken captive winch is tucked neatly under the saloon floorboards just for this purpose — something typically found only on much larger vessels. (Jeanneau can also install a captive winch for the main halyard as an option.) For relaxing in the ­cockpit, you’ll find settees on each side with tables that can lower to turn the seats into comfortable outdoor berths. A large dodger protects the companionway from spray, and a bimini can extend all the way to the arch. On the boat I sailed, there was a second bimini for the dual helms, which kept us out of the rain on that squally day. The business end of the cockpit includes not just the steering wheels, winches and ­sailhandling controls, but also an outdoor galley of sorts: consoles that contain a sink, fridge, icemaker and storage, and a grill that lifts out of a ­lazarette on its own stand. In the transom, there’s a neat ­dinghy garage sized to fit a 9-foot-6-inch Williams Turbojet 285 ­tender, which is available as an option.

Going forward on deck, you’ll notice another big-boat feature: halyard-tensioning tracks on the mast for the furling sails, which eliminate the need to run the lines back to the cockpit. The wide teak decks are clear and easy to navigate, and fiberglass bulwarks and 30-inch-high lifelines add to the feeling of security.

The 64 is designed by Philippe Briand with an interior by Andrew Winch, both of whom have many superyachts to their credit. “Winch was able to design a completely new look and feel down below that pulls on a lot of yachty influences. Yet when people come below, they ‘feel’ like it is a Jeanneau,” Stromberg says. “It is really an accomplishment to give a fresh look that just feels right.”

Though a high-production builder, Jeanneau is still able to offer owners plenty of choices, both in layout and materials, that can give the 64 a custom finish at a much lower price point than boats of comparable size. Throughout the interior, leather accents and high-end fixtures and lighting add to the classy, contemporary look of the saloon. The boat I sailed had a massive, well-appointed master cabin aft, but owners can choose to have accommodation forward instead, with two double guest cabins aft. A lateral cabin with bunk beds is available on the starboard side, or that space can house the nav station and a hanging locker. The aft and forward cabins all have en suite heads with ­separate shower stalls. All the way forward, you’ll find a sail locker, which is also available as a crew cabin.

Located just to port of the companionway, the galley seems like it would be a lovely place for meal prep, whether at the dock or underway. There are good fiddles on the counters, and while there’s plenty of space for two, there are enough places to brace yourself in a seaway. When designing the galley, Jeanneau consulted a professional yacht chef, which led to thoughtful storage placement and a wine and drink cooler that is easily accessed by the whole crew. High-end appliances include a range, dishwasher, microwave, front-opening fridge and two freezer drawers.

Something that really stands out on the 64 is the dedicated engine room, which is also where the builder installed any machinery that’s noisy or vibrates. Not only is it more convenient to have many ­systems in one place, but the well-soundproofed room keeps the boat quieter as well.

With a price tag that runs a million-plus, depending on options, the new 64 is hardly an entry-level boat. Stromberg says the model is targeted at sailors who are moving up from their current boat, but who would still like something that can be handled without permanent crew aboard. Whether it’s the sharp look of the Briand design, the superyacht features or the production-boat price — or, likely, a combination of all three — it’s working: To date, Jeanneau has sold more than 40 of the 64s. As our sail wrapped up for the day at the Bitter End Yacht Club, the skies finally cleared. And the race? We won, of course. As Gary Jobson delighted in pointing out, “The other guy had his engine on the whole time!”

Specifications

LOA: 65’11” (20.1 m)
LWL: 59′ (18 m)
Beam: 17’8″ (5.4 m)
Draft: 9’8″/7’2″ (2.95/2.2 m)
Sail Area: (100%) 1,829 sq. ft. (furling main) (170 sq m)
Ballast: 20,613 lb. (9,350 kg)
Displacement (maximum): 81,571 lb. (37,000 kg)
Ballast/Displacement: 0.25
Displacement/Length: 177
Sail Area/Displacement: 15.6
Water: 265 gal. (1,000 l)
Fuel: 218 gal. (815 l)
Holding: 70 gal. (264 l)
Mast Height: 95’5″ (29.1 m)
Engine: 180 hp Volvo Penta D4-180
Designer: Philippe Briand, Andrew Winch interior
Price:$1,400,000

Jeanneau
410-280-9400
www.jeanneau.com

Jen Brett is CW’s senior editor.

The post Jeanneau 64 appeared first on Cruising World.

It’s a famous tune, and many a crooner has given it his or her all, but for my money, only Frank Sinatra could do these lyrics justice: “Tall and tan and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking, and when she passes …” That, my friends, is entertainment.

Fittingly, creating entertaining moments seems to be a major theme of the new Ipanema 58, from the French builder Fountaine Pajot. The company is well known for using clever place names for its ever-expanding series of comfortable cruising catamarans, and the iconic Brazilian beach seems appropriate for a sensual, sun-seeking machine. It’s also suitable in an ironic sense; after all, why bother visiting Copacabana, Ipanema or any other shoreside resort when you can just bring your own long, tall, personal beach scene right along with you?

Yes, in every dimension, this is one gargantuan ­vessel, but before we get into the particulars, it must be established that the Ipanema is also one fine sailboat. On her maiden transatlantic voyage from France to Maryland, the ­professional delivery crew registered a 245-nautical-mile day (averaging a nice round 10 knots) with a top boat speed of 16 knots in a 40-knot squall under headsail alone. Sweet.

Our Boat of the Year tests were conducted on a more languid Chesapeake Bay day in winds that plateaued at around 10 knots. Even then, the combination of the big square-topped main and roller-furling gennaker provided plenty of payload, powering the surprisingly nimble cat at almost 7 knots upwind and 7.5 slightly cracked off. And steering the boat from the elevated perch on the flybridge, so far removed from the water, was an otherworldly experience — it seemed as if we were floating on air. Behind the wheel, I felt like a blimp pilot, and I mean that as a sincere compliment. But enjoyable sailing is only one of the boat’s objectives, and for some owners, I’d imagine, it won’t even be the ­primary one. This is a yacht aboard which you could throw three or even four parties in different spaces at the same time, and none of the guests at any of them would be forced to commingle.

At anchor in the islands, it would be hard to forgo the open-air pleasures of the upper deck and its commanding view, replete with ­lounges, sun pads and ­amenities (wet bar, refrigerator, ­barbecue) galore. Should showers ­threaten, the ample cockpit can easily seat a dozen or more under the ­shaded hardtop, with similar accouterments in the upstairs parlor. If the kids are rambunctious, simply send them forward to the spacious trampolines and accompanying daybeds. Everyone wins!

Then there’s the main saloon, with the hideaway flat-screen TV, an ample galley that could work in a commercial kitchen, oodles more ­couches and settees, and of course a plethora of full-size appliances, including a fridge, dishwasher, washing machine and so on. That’s where you’ll find me, hanging with the cooks.

The accommodations, naturally, are equally luxurious. There are three different versions, including a six-cabin charter layout — our Boat of the Year judges named the 58 the Best Charter Boat for 2016 — and a couple of other arrangements that incorporate a dedicated owner’s stateroom. With a seven-figure price tag, sadly, I probably won’t be one of those lucky owners. But I could totally get into a charter trip, and I’d even bring my music. Hey, is that Ol’ Blue Eyes?! Man, the Ipanema 58 strikes all the right chords.

Herb McCormick is Cruising World’s executive editor.

The post Fountaine Pajot Ipanema 58 appeared first on Cruising World.