David Nichols new Sea Eagle 16.5 'Pandion'

Designer and builder David Nichols puts his latest creation Sea Eagle 16.5 through her sea trials on Lake Huron

Plan and profile views of the Sea Eagle 16.5

The original sketches for the lug rigged cat yawl.

After sailing Pandion for a summer, David is considering revising the sail plan with a batwing main for easier reefing.

Detail of the hatch hinge, David and crew designed and fabricated all of the bronze hardware.

Bow detail

Stern light.

Another view of the stern light showing exquisite attention to detail.




all photos courtesy David Nichols, Arrowhead Custom Boats and Canoes

The March/April issue of The Small Craft Advisor featured a boat in their Plan Study column which really caught my eye. David Nichols is a long standing Texas boatbuilder/designer who also summers in Michigan where he teaches at the Great Lakes Boat Building School. He is best known for his small canoes and fishing boats, but is branching out. His latest creation is intended to be a family of small yachts ranging from 14'5 to 27'. His design precis states that he was looking for a beach cruiser that could easily be launched from a trailer while capable of standing up to some fairly big water, The Sea of Cortez, for example, and having shallow enough draft to allow use in his local skinny Texas water. The built prototype is the Sea Eagle 16.5 Pandion. David trailed her to Michigan for sea trials last summer. He wrote a full design brief including the results of his trials in the Les Cheneaux Isles on Lake Huron for the SCA article. Originally designed as a lug rigged cat ketch, David wrote me that based on his experiences sailing her last summer he is rethinking the sail plan and working on an alternate rig, reference the drawing above of a batwing main. Here is an excerpt from David's new book, soon to be published by Breakaway Books on the 16.5 and 14.5 Sea Eagles. Plans for both boats included.

The sails

"I spent last summer sailing the boat with standing lug sails and I love lug sails. The sails are fast and easy to rig. They are reasonably weatherly and easy to handle. I particularly like the ability to brail up the sails but I felt I wanted to make some changes.

The balance of the boat was good. There was a small amount of weather helm but the helm was light and pleasant. That meant I needed the combined center of effort of news sails to match the CCOE of the old sail plan when and if I changed the sail plan.

So why did I decide to change the main sail and why did settle on a batwing? Let me go through all the sails I considered and then I think those two questions will be answered.

First, boomless lug sails are somewhat difficult to reef. It’s an involved process not easily done in open water and single handed. Also, I found storing the sails when struck but still under way a problem. It was always a wrestling match and in open water and high winds not something I wanted to do.

The oblivious change would be to add a boom to both lug sails and if I hadn’t intended to make my own sail this would have been the easiest and most cost effective solution. And a good one I might add. Actually, that’s what I did on the mizzen sail.

The first sail I considered was a boomless gaff with a foot of 8 feet. This gave about the right sheeting angle and I do like a boomless sail. The gaff sail could be scandalized (with the right gaff jaws) and I could get plenty a sail area. The main problem with this and all boomless sails for that matter is the sheeting angle off the wind. I could have compensated some with a vang off the mizzen mast and a Cunningham but that still left the reefing and storage issues.

The next choice was a boomed, loose-footed gaff sail. Scandalizing was still an option and the loose foot would allow the sail to be thriced up as well. The only problem was being limited to a 7 foot 9 inch boom (The distance between the main and mizzen mast is 8 feet) and I couldn’t get quite enough sail area.

But if I filled in the area between the gaff and the mast I came up just a few square feet short of the 101 square feet of the old main lug sail. I found that by adding just two battens I could get the batwing shape I wanted. The Batwing eliminated the ability to scandalize but I could still run the vang from the mizzen mast to the lower batten for control of off the wind twist.

Jiffy reefing could be done single handed and the whole sail collapsed on the boom captured by lazy Jacks. All this had the added benefit of a single sheet for the main and a single sheet for the mizzen. A pleasure when sailing single handed.

The final point that sealed the deal was the CCOE of both sails were almost identical. So by keeping the old mizzen sail the combined COE of both sails remained the same.

All of this does come with a price. The original rig had a halyard and brailing line for both sails (total of 4 lines), two sheets for the main and one for the mizzen (total 3 lines) and a rigging time of less than 30 minutes solo.

The new rig has a halyard for the main and a halyard for the mizzen, a sheet for the main and a sheet for the mizzen, topping lift for main and topping lift for mizzen, lazy Jacks for each sail, Jiffy reefing for first reef and jiffy reefing for second reef for both sails, a down haul for the main, a main boom and a mizzen boom, and a rigging time yet to be determined (you can bet it will be considerable longer than 30 minutes).

Is the new rig worth the extra price? For me, yes. For someone else, perhaps not. But that’s the joy of building your own boat. You get to tailor it to exactly what works for you. You’re not stuck with a one size fits all boat.

Is this sail plan set in concrete? I doubt it seriously. I will, I suspect, add the batwing to the mizzen and I may try the boat as a cat schooner. I had intended to change to a schooner but the CCOE moved too much so I abandoned that rig, for a while anyway. So many sails so little time.



There is an extensive chapter on how to make the sails for the Sea Eagles. The purpose of the chapter is to give the builder the knowledge and confidence to make the sails as well as build the boat.

I think there is a ‘completeness’ or immense satisfaction that comes with moving through the water in a boat that you built and made the sails for. Your hand connects with both the water and the wind in a very personal way. It’s a very Zen experience."

The book also has an exposition of why David chose tandem centerboards, visible in the profile drawing above.
David and his team fabricated all the bronze hardware for the boat( see the detail photos above ), and he suggests that anyone with brazing and welding kills can do the same, but adds that given the price of bronze, maybe stainless is better. I believe there are also larger boats in the works, David mentioned a 27' and a 22' version. Stay tuned.

And, thanks David

The Berque Twins, by Creed O'Hanlon

Guest contributor Creed O'Hanlon with a follow on story to his last contribution:

A Poetic Pair

Forty years ago, French voyaging wasn't about record-breaking or even about reaching a particular destination: it was the thing itself. Knox-Johnston was, by his own admission, adamant that an Englishman, not a bloody foreigner, would be the first to sail alone and non-stop around the world but Moitessier's motives were less clear: more than anything, he just wanted to be at sea, to become one with it for however long his boat, his supplies and his psyche could hold out. This attitude, expressed in the poetic, stream-of-consciousness prose that distinguishes French writing on the sea, is apparent in the published accounts of Alain Gerbault, Marin-Marie, Jean Gau, Jean Lacombe, Eric de Bisschop and later, Gerard Janichon and Guy Bernardin. Despite being highly skilled seamen, they tended to focus on translating the inner experience of ocean sailing rather than the prosaic, day-to-day log of external incidents, punctuated by useful technical information, preferred by the English. Even the emotionally lean, highly disciplined ex-naval officer, Eric Tabarly, – arguably, with Moitessier, the greatest French sailor of the 20th century – couldn't avoid cutting loose in his writing from time to time.
I'd never heard of Emmanuel and Maximilien Berque until I came across a link to one of their videos on Thomas Nielsen's Wharram-oriented blog. It took nine minutes, the time needed to view an excerpt from their award-winning documentary, Inside Outside, on YouTube, to realise that they were the natural inheritors of Moitessier's spiritual mantle. Identical twins, born 58 years ago in Morocco, they spent their early twenties in France where they were among the first to surf – and photograph – the various banks and point breaks along the east coast of the Bay of Biscay. In the early Eighties, they built a 4.8 metre trimaran daysailer in plywood and dubbed it Micromegas I. With little sailing experience but an interest in celestial navigation, they set off for the Canary Islands, west of Morocco, in what became a gruelling series of stormy coastal and offshore passages. They spent over a year living in the open air on the tiny vessel. Not surprisingly, it put them off sailing for another decade. Then, in 1995, they designed and built a beautiful, strip-planked, lug-sail ketch, Micromegas II, just four-metres long. They sailed it – without engine, electronics or basic safety equipment – first across the Atlantic, from the French beachside town of Contis, to Guadeloupe, in the Caribbean, then to Miami, Florida. In 2003, two years after their account of this voyage, Les Mutins De La Mer, became a minor best-seller in France, they did it again. They designed and built a strip-planked, 6.5-metre, lugsail schooner-rigged proa (pictured above, centre), Micromegas III, weighing just 300 kgs. With even less equipment – this time, leaving compasses, sextant, watch, almanac, nautical tables, radios and GPS ashore – they set off from the Canaries towards the small island of La Desirade in the Carribean, relying only on the sun, moon, stars and swell direction to guide them. 27 days later, their landfall was perfect. Inside Outside follows this pair of laid-back, aging surfer dudes – turned film-makers – as they undertake what is, by any measure, one of the truly extraordinary small sailboat voyages of the past century. Always in tune with the sea, despite the obvious discomfort of their vessel, they're so damn cheerful and at such ease, even under pressure, that it's tempting to dismiss them as reckless. They aren't. They just have a loose, joyous empathy – typical of surfers – with the ocean's mutable environment, underpinned by a zen-like willingness to abandon the usual human impulse to try to exert a semblance of control over it.I can't help but envy their... soul.
(Incidentally, check out the Berques' library of personal photographs. Like James Wharram, with whom they appear to have something of a Sixties' philosophical kinship, the Berque twins aren't shy about showing nude images – emphatically NSFW – of some of the women who distract them between and during voyages. The Berques' friends win hands down when it comes to sex appeal – probably another essential difference between the French and the English.) Above: All photos by Emmanuel and Maximilien Berque

A visit with Sjogin and Russ

My first impression of Sjogin, from photos on Russ' website, of unpretentious elegance, was confirmed on seeing her.

The surprise was in seeing her generous beam, somewhat apparent here, but more noticeable in the bottom photo. At about 22' loa, her beam of almost 8' is generous, she's shallow with nearly flat bilges.

She's sweet and workmanlike, true to her ancestry. I was impressed with not only her clear and most pleasing lines but also the absence of anything extraneous. Her finish and fit out are pure work boat, very clean and appropriate.

On climbing aboard, I was first struck by her stark geometries.

Anchor stowed in the cockpit.

Looking forward from the companionway.

Quite simple below decks,

Her elegance continues.

Some necessaries, including wood for the stove.

A tidy little bookshelf.

Here's Russ' tall frame enjoying sitting headroom while we jabber. We're both sitting on a berth flat Russ put in recently.

courtesy John Armstrong

Teapot stowed. Notice the interior is finished bright, with no oil, no varnish and very little fade in 50 years, evidence of a dry and well kept boat. Copper rivets throughout, but the backbone is bolted with iron, and showing a bit of "iron sickness", which will eventually need to be addressed.

This lovely little Navigator Sardine keeps Sjogin warm and dry, even on the most bitter days.

courtesy John Armstrong

Russ pointed out the prominent 'F' on the forward chainplate, presumably the makers reminder to himself.

Looking aft from the companionway, simplicity.

Russ allows the only 'bling' he's added recently are these handcrafted Ash blocks from the Netherlands, which "cost the earth" but look great (and function superbly) on Sjogin.

Simply rigged, as well.

Another angle on the block and chimney vent. I enjoyed crawling around topside.

Across the way, an unpretentious little summer getaway.

We head off for a tour of the boatyard, more to come...

Russ give's a wave as we depart. Sjogin's beam is evident here.


all photos Thomas Armstrong unless otherwise noted.

Brother John and I made the trek down to Brick, NJ Saturday for a visit with Russ Manheimer and his tidy little bombshell Sjogin. It was a brisk and sunny day, but rather blustery, so a planned (and hoped for) sail was not in the offing. Guess we'll have to make the journey again, in gentler weather, in order to heave to off Swan point. We'll do that. John will bring lunch and Russ will provide the magic carpet.
We had a great visit nonetheless, sitting in her cabin for hours yakking, and later being treated to a tour of David Beaton and Son's legendary boatyard where Sjogin resides. We met Tom Beaton, the grandson of David and current proprietor and had a bit of a gam there as well. More on that soon.
Sjogin was built, as the story goes, by a retired Swedish sailing captain named Gullberg between 1960-62, to lines typical of Swedish or Danish coasting fishing workboats. Or almost typical, but not quite. There's something different about this boat, something special. Whoever crafted her was an artist indeed, there is something so balanced, so right about this boat, something ineffable. This is not just my opinion. A recent thread on the WoodenBoat Forum evinced widespread admiration for Sjogin. Indeed, it sort of ignited and has resulted in at least four prominent small boat designers stating interest in adapting this boat with her elegant lines into their current offerings. Francois Vivier has made a preliminary drawing of his interpretation available here. The thread was started by a fellow who wanted to initiate the work of taking off her lines. That hasn't happened yet but probably will within the year. This is an exciting turn of events, as not only will it preserve the design, but also allow future development from what is generally acknowledged to be an aesthetic triumph.
Little more is known about her builder and origins, so anyone who can shed some light is invited to do so.
A delightful day and John and I are looking forward to another road trip, and a sail...

Thanks Russ.


...After a brief tour of Mantoloking and Bay Head, John and I headed back toward home, stopping for lunch at a small 'crab shack' opposite the entrance to Beaton's. We both tried the fried Silver Hake sandwich. Excellent. Caught locally by the area's lobstermen, they bring their extraneous hake to this longstanding little business, so it's local and very fresh. Hit the spot.

Man on the River 1.2.: 'Clodia' christenend

Roland's clamping system

Roland on top

She's beginning to glow

And is looking great

A future sailor from the Steiner School of Montecchio

The hull complete

Another view

the Ness Yawl leaving the Art Waiting Room at Lago

don't try this at home

Giacomo addreses the audience at Antiruggine

Mario Brunello playing his 400 year old cello




all photos courtesy Man on the River

Giacomo de Stefano's Man on the River project took a huge leap forward yesterday with the christening of Clodia, the Iain Oughtred Ness Yawl he's building for the project. As befits a project approached as a total art work, having social, political, environmental and sculptural aspects, the boat was christened with a serenade from Mario Brunello playing a 400 yr old cello. Giacomo confessed:

"Something special happened aboard the Ness Yawl yesterday.
A 400 years old Cello played by Mario Brunello created some of the most incredible vibrations of my entire life."

On his website, Giacomo elaborates:

"Last night, the Ness Yawl has been Christened by the art of Mario Brunello, who delighted the audience by playing a Bach’s Suite for cello, aboard the boat.

We proudly announce the new Ness Yawl name: “Clodia”, from the latin name of Chioggia, a city near Venice, with whom Giacomo feels a special kinship.

The event, held at Antiruggine (the art and culture centre created by Mario and Arianna Brunello in Castelfranco Veneto), has seen many people coming to hear Giacomo’s speech about his story and the reasons that drew him to dedicate his life to water related projects.

During the two hour discussion, Giacomo presented and thanked many team members, notably Jacopo Epis, the co-rower that will join him along the journey. In the background, the “Clodia”, just a few days away from completion.

In the end, Mario Brunello honoured Giacomo and the team by playing aboard the boat, used as a giant soundbox."

Our best wishes are with Giacomo and crew.

Coigach Rules!

all photos courtesy Coigach Lass

My news friends in my old stomping ground on Rhu Coigach on the northwest coast of Scotland are making progress with their build of the Ian Oughtred designed St. Ayles Skiff, intended for participation in the Scottish Coastal Rowing Project. They've turned the boat, a big day, and she's looking lovely. This is a real community project (obvious in the photos). Coigach is small. When I was there in1976 it was about 200 people spread over an 11 mile peninsula, and everyone was in walking distance of the sea! It's grown slightly in the intervening years, but not a lot. This is a fairly isolated part of the NW coast of Scotland, and when I was a youngster and visiting in 1976 I had to hitch a ride on the mail truck from Ullapool to Achiltibue, along the mostly single track road just to get there, and it's definitely one of the most starkly beautiful landscapes in the world, riding between deep lochs and high mountains. I have been in touch with some old friends and new and it's simply heartwarming to see them cooperating on this new project. 'Buie Boats rule'! New friend Lesley Muir writes the Coigach Lass weblog and is doing a great job, my untold thanks to you, Lesley. And hello to Iain Campbell, my mentor for cement, house building, the SNP and all things local Scot's culture. It was a wonderful time for me. Thanks Iain.

postscript: Lesley reports there's been a new bagpipe tune written for the Lass!