The gunning punt was a very useful boat for the marshes, but, for more general use, was a bit limited. I sold it to a man from Cumberland who paid for it in full without seeing it and left it with me for six months before he collected it. In its place I purchased what appeared to be an ordinary looking GRP dinghy from a marine stores, intending to use it with a 4 HP outboard. The same store had nothing smaller than a 9½ HP Johnson, but which I was offered at such a discount I couldn’t refuse. The dinghy had come over from Norway as part of an odd lot. The resultant boat/engine combination was a revelation as it planed at what then to me was a frightening speed. I had a lot of fun in surf with it as it could accelerate away from breaking waves at will. I can only assume now that I had stumbled across one of Mr With’s dromedile prototypes. The hull shape was good as it gave a soft dry ride through small waves. When the waves reached such a size as to require a reduction to displacement speed, the way was completely knocked off the boat which I put down to the light weight of the hull. Certainly, modern With hulls have a high reputation for seaworthiness and can in no way be considered light craft.

About this time, the brilliantly conceived method of government robbery was broached called VAT. It was apparent that never again in real terms would anything ever be as cheap again. If I was ever going to own a comparatively large boat it was better to plan it immediately in order to save the VAT. I decided that the most cost effective way was to buy a hull and complete it myself as have many others. So was ordered from the Tyler Boat Company the hull moulding of a DEE 33, a centreboard cruising yacht based on a successful ocean racer and designed by Sparkman & Stevens, 33’ 4” x 10’ 4” x 3’ 7” (plate up). Too many hours were spent dreaming of the cruises to come, considering the fittings and planning the building. Having placed my order I now began to realise that my business would not allow me sufficient time to complete the project within a sensible period of time, so my Rye boatbuilders were contracted to do the work and I had to content myself with the rigging and building a tender. In the belief that she would ‘sail like a witch’ —although I do not know the origin of the phrase — I named her ‘La Sorciere’. Witch she certainly was for that boat took over my life. Nothing was too good for her — a beautiful suit of sails from Cranfield & Carter including three genoas, each of different hue; Volvo diesel; pressurized hot water system; anthracite stove; Brookes & Gatehouse navigation equipment; the list ran on! I still do not know how she would behave under cruising conditions as she never went to sea in my ownership. Teething troubles in everything but the rigging (!) had to be sorted. Then the aforementioned VAT plus the miners strike and the three-day week took their toll and my business slid downwards after 15 years successful trading. A bit of daysailing and a couple of weekends were our only honeymoon before she had to be put up for sale. A tomato grower from Norwich was susceptible to her magic and, more important, was unaffected by VAT. The bargain was sealed with a tumbler each of neat gin in her cabin. Her second owner took her on her maiden voyage up the east coast so ‘fools build boats for wise men to sail’. I still have not quite learnt the lesson yet.

The dinghy that I completed for ‘La Sorciere’ and kept as tender for three subsequent boats started as a bare hull from Island Plastics, 7’ hard chine. I completed it to a good standard not sparing the reinforcement knees at transoms and thwarts. Emergency buoyancy was expanded polystyrene blocks under the thwarts wrapped in heavy grade polythene and retained with webbing. Reinforcement stringers were incorporated and screw eyes at both bow and stern. The latter item can be very useful in a tender allowing the dinghy to be slung aboard using a halyard or for lashing the dinghy alongside when unloading the shopping on a choppy mooring. The DEB’s mooring was more than two miles from my club’s launching ramp so even under power it became a tedious trip especially in a chop. One day, I had a 9½ HP outboard with me and fitted that. It was tempting to open up the throttle and of course the poor little pram stood on its tail. However, by moving forward until I was sitting over the bow transom I managed to trim it into a plane. Most exciting, but dangerous as a sudden steering movement would obviously flip her over. Sitting in the bows and steering by tapping the tiller one way or the other with an oar became the normal practice for the long trip, but, on shorter trips, I just leaned forward with my hands on the forward gunwales. Leaning to one side or the other induced drag in one corner of the transom aft and steered the dinghy. The hazardous moment was when one had to cut the throttle when one had to move aft!

The following year I started to look for another sailing boat. My means were now more limited so I settled for an open daysailer in the shape of a 16’ Fairy Falcon. Conventional by contemporary standards, round bilge, transom sterned, hot moulded hull in timber, ½ decked, steel c/b, Bermudan rigged sloop. Whilst examining the boat I asked the vendor point blank whether the c/b case leaked! He looked me in the eye and swore that she was as tight as a drum: ‘Caveat emptor’ — I had a deep water mooring at my club and put her on it — two hours later, there was 6” in the bottom. I bailed her out and went home — in trepidation. In the morning she was still afloat — just. She took up slowing and by the end of the summer, I could leave her a week. The silt in the Medway had given her a ‘Blackwall caulking’. In the autumn I took the centreboard out. The glueline between hog and case had failed completely and common brass screws had been used for fastening. In addition, they had been driven in with so little care that 20% of them were not in solid wood but against the edge of the slot in the hog. Whilst I found the Falcon far from ideal for single handed use, with two teenage children as crew she was excellent with her roomy hull, which was, however, light enough to accelerate sharply in a puff. When by myself, I found it necessary to reef depressingly often, and a day out sometimes left me exhausted.

Having returned the Falcon to health and sold it, I looked around for something a bit larger with a lid. Impressed by the fact that the design had crossed the Atlantic, I favoured a Hunter Europa 19. I finally found a triple keeled version at a price I could afford at Burnham on Crouch, complete with trailer. The low price, or rather my low offer, was justified as, with most Hunter boats, this had been completed from a kit and the first owner had made a rather poor job of it. I ripped it all out and started from scratch, with a set of drawings supplied by Hunters. Regretfully, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, neither get a quart into a pint pot, and the cabin never resembled more than a luxurious dog kennel. The sailing ability of the hull was excellent and she would work to windward in quite hairy conditions — at a price: the helmsman’s comfort. A very wet boat.

After only one season the seduction of bigger and better held sway again and, impressed by Hunter’s mouldings and their choice of designer, I ordered a Sonata c/b version in kit form. Whilst I was waiting for delivery, I built one of the ‘Instant Boats’. An American designer called Phil Bolger evolved a method of quick building of flat bottomed plywood boats. One pre-shapes the sides of the boat making the timber as long as is required by butt jointing or scarfing. One then fastens them together at stem and stern with a couple of simple frames keeping them apart in the middle and the shape of a flat bottomed dory style hull happens automatically. One then fastens on chines and gunwales, bevels off the chines and nails on the bottom and hey presto — a boat. I chose a little 12’ double ender called Teal. It took three weeks of evenings and most of that was spent painting and finishing. I built it for rowing and on a river it was fine, being easy to row and carrying its way well. In a bit of a sea on the estuary it was rather hard work and felt as if one was towing a bucket. This behaviour is not typical of dories and the wider bottom is to blame I imagine. As a sailer I feel sure it would have been much more successful as the shape would be better when heeled.

The Sonata hull arrived in my front garden in early Spring and I started work at the same time as a queen wasp started building in the interior. We amicably shared the access through the main hatch as we popped in and out. When her nest had reached the size of an orange attached to the ceiling of the main cabin I was ready to put the lining panels in place, so regretfully had to refuse her entrance and destroy the nest. She buzzed about fretfully for a couple of days and then transferred her activities to the attic of the house. Her nest reached the size of a football eventually and her brood made the fetching of suitcases a hazardous occupation for the rest of the summer. I completed the Sonata to standard specification apart from adding slides to the mainsail luff. The interior was roomy and practical and I think a model of what a pocket cruiser cabin should be. I added a gas cooker in gimbals and electric lights, although the battery had to be taken ashore for charging. Even my wife was impressed, and guests were entertained providing they did the crewing. More serious sailing was undertaken and for her size the Sonata was a paragon almost. Responsive and fast, very dry — one hardly ever needed oilskins — a practical deck layout, but she needed a hand on the tiller the whole time. Picking up a mooring on a trot was hilarious, for the onlookers. One only had a few feet to travel to the bows, but she would be shooting off on another tack as soon as you blinked. With a crew, usually my daughter, life was rosy, but single handed I longed for something more restful. When my daughter went to university I found the hassle of launching and antifouling etc. by myself a bit much. I slapped her rounded quarters as she went jauntily off down the road behind her new owner. I last saw her in the Blackwater on a fine day; draped over the decks were four beauteous damsels in an appropriate state of undress, she was in good company!

Scattered amongst the boats I have owned have been four inflatables. The first which I bought in 1962 and which I still own and which still holds pressure is a Hutchinson Nautisport, 6’ long, separately inflatable side tubes and bottom. It is much travelled having accompanied me over quicksands, flounder spearing in South Wales and added to the fun of family holidays on the Costa Brava. Not having a seat, one either takes one’s trousers off when rowing it as a tender or wears a pair of waterproofs. I have owned a couple of Avon Redstarts, one of which departed virtually unused with the DEB. My experience of them leads me to believe that they are the longest lived of the various makes of inflatable tenders. They row surprisingly well if you remember to have a piece of candle on board to lubricate the oarlocks. I found it best to take the plastic collars off the oars as well. My other inflatable was a Zodiac sports boat which I used with a 9.9 HP o/b. An ideal holiday boat if it includes a bit of fishing. My only reservation is how vulnerable one feels when perched on the side tube bouncing up and down at speed in choppy water. A few motors now have safety switches which one can connect to one’s clothing with a cord. As I have always owned estate cars or hatchbacks, even the Zodiac and engine could be squeezed in on holiday providing that I had the backing of the children!

The catalyst which provoked the passing of the Sonata was a little book that I found in the library. You would not need many guesses to establish the name of the book as ‘Dinghies for All Waters’ by Eric Coleman. I took it home, read it cover to cover and then went and bought my own copy. At the time the West System of using epoxy resin was in the news. I wrote to Eric and ordered the plans of Rebell first as I intended to try the system out by building the Rebell pram. I had a few bits of teak about that I incorporated in its construction and was impressed by its adhesion to such oily wood. At this point, I proved to myself that I had learnt something from my experiences. I was not going to spend the next summer or two in the workshop when I could be sailing and arranged for the hull of a Roamer to be built by a professional boat builder, McNulty’s of South Shields. There was still a fair amount to do of course as I received only a bare hull with part decking in April. I was sailing by July however, forcing myself to work fast and not spend too much workshop time in daydreaming. This is definitely the difference between amateur and professional; the amateur often does as good quality work or better, but the professional works faster — if he’s going to make a living!

I completed the hull to standard specification except where I had to change fittings that were not available. The awning tent I designed and made myself on my wife’s sewing machine, though she maintained with some justification that the poor thing was overloaded. Not being convinced that double shrouds were required on a mast only 17’ long on a beamy hull, I went to Racing Sailboats who designed me a Proctor aluminium mast with short spreaders. I had realised by now that sliders on a small mainsail’s luff were more trouble than they were worth when taking in or shaking out a deep reef, so settled for a plain luff rope in the aluminium groove and jiffy slab reefing. The result is reasonably quick to rig and has stood up to a windward thrash in conditions in which I would rather not have been out, though, as I was single handed as usual, there was a limit to how much strain I could put on the rig. It is very difficult to be objective about one’s Roamer, it has faults, of course, but you would have difficulty getting me to admit to them. For the use I put it to, it must be almost ideal. I don’t often use it in home waters, but for sailing some distance from home where a night away makes the trip worthwhile. Easy to trail, easy to launch and recover single handed, providing that the surface of the ramp is firm; these are features of lesser dinghies. The Roamer, however, manages to be stable and forgiving of carelessness, holding its course well when you want to relax and still sails faster than most small cruisers. I can’t imagine a time when I would want to part with him, as for some reason my Roamer is definitely a ‘he’. Not the least of the Roamer’s assets is the enormous amount of dry storage space, but I mustn’t go on.

Whilst waiting for the Roamer’s hull to be built I looked for something cheap to give me some sailing. I settled on an Otter which I did get cheap, because of certain faults, all of which I thought I had spotted. Regretfully this was not the case and by the time I had sleeved the sprung mast, replaced the centreboard and rudder, rebuilt the centreboard case, resewn the sails, removed the spattered house paint from the hull and renewed all the running rigging, the Roamer had arrived and I never even sailed it. I did make a bit of profit on it, however.

Two other craft I own at the moment are aimed at what the Americans call impulse sailing. A day or a few hours on the water without too much hassle. The first is a canoe although I seldom paddle it. I hankered for a boat designed for rowing like a gig, not with a sliding seat but which would pull easily not necessarily fast, but seaworthy. I wasn’t too interested in looks and I certainly didn’t want to spend hours titivating the varnish. Grumman make a ‘Canadian’ canoe called an Eagle 17’ long, but without the tumblehome ends of the normal Canadian shape. As it is only 3’ 3” beam, I devised removable outriggers manufactured from marine ply and aluminium tube, which allows 7’ oars to be used. The resulting craft rows well, holds its course even with a tail wind if you load it by the stern and can be carried on the roof rack as it only weighs 70 lbs. The hull is of course made from marine grade aluminium so needs no maintenance and puts up with odd knocks and bumps without harm. I built a motor bracket to take a 2 HP motor, but have never used it, I suppose because it means double the trouble. I started a sailing rig for it from my old Gremlin sail but never completed it for the same reason. This canoe hangs from the roof of a garage ready to go when the impulse occurs. I don’t use it in rough conditions, the impulse doesn’t occur when the forecast is doubtful, but it has stood up to a fair slop in wind against tide conditions in the estuary.

My other boat is I suppose the most attractive craft that I have owned. A little 13’ x 4’ 8” canoe yawl with twin standing lugsails, an ‘Ethyl’ look-alike; see John Leather’s book ‘Sail & Oar’ for details. Built of cold moulded mahogany and ¾ decked, she attracts ‘foreshore conversationalists’ like bees to honey. When I found her she was disfigured with black and green paint, without undercoat, oars like a pair of wooden spoons, halyards of 10mm matt plait and a mast which was narrower just above the deck than it was near the masthead. It was like seeing a beautiful girl (or man) with dirty fingernails and a black eye. I spent many hours stripping the hull and ‘improving’ her, although I have laid myself open to censure by giving her a gold anodised aluminium mainmast. I bought her originally because I thought she would be quick to rig with unstayed masts and I also wanted to experience the delights or otherwise of lugsails and mizzens. To summarize — she is much quicker to get into the water — lugsails pull beautifully and without a jib are marvellous for wriggling up a creek against the wind; they can’t be compared with Bermudan, of course, to windward in open water — the mizzen is well worth its complication in making the boat easy to handle, but detracts from the performance in winds forward of the beam. I changed the rigging of the standing lugs and use them as balanced lugs; they point as well or better and are easier to set and lower. My opinion is that if one is going to set a mizzen of such a size that it is only a handling or steering sail, then its rig should be as simple as possible in order to reduce the windage of spars, etc. A boomless leg’o’mutton would be my ideal. As I really wanted the yawl as a knockabout and she is really too nice for that, I am selling her, but admit that it will be a wrench when she leaves with someone who falls for her graceful sheer and gleaming varnish.

Well that’s the score so far; however, because of my intense curiosity where all sorts of small boats are concerned, I expect and hope that there are a few to come yet. I am pleased to be able to say that I have made only a small loss or small profit on any boat I have owned. The exception would be my Roamer if I was foolish enough to sell him. Just as well I don’t want to!