In the best of situations, choosing the right sailboat is a very difficult undertaking. At worst, it can be a series of false starts, dead ends, and an emotional roller coaster that can be confusing and discouraging. Above all, the process involves practice and skill at evaluating alternative features and making choices that reflect the right balance. As many authors have noted, choosing the right boat is all about compromise.
Ancient History
More Recent Developments
Necessary Features
Design Parameters
The Short List
Available Boats
Evaluation and Selection
Writing the Offer
My process of choosing the right boat probably began over 30 years ago when I was introduced to displacement sailboats on Lake Michigan. I spent a couple of years serving as weekend crew and winter help sailing and maintaining Quill, a 34-foot sloop designed by John Illingsworth. The boat was a cold-molded ocean racer that had made its way to the Great Lakes and served as a weekend and Mackinac racer. She had a very appealing look that combined low freeboard, a flush foredeck, and a slight tumblehome. Her underbody was a modified keel with skeg mounted ruder. She needed a good breeze to get started and was very competitive when the winds picked up.
Quill ready for another season on Lake Michigan. Early 1970s.
There were a few features about Quill that influenced my thinking about sailboats. First was the wood hull. Even as a cold-molded boat, she required a good amount of attention and labor to stay at her best. While I loved the look of her varnished mahogany toe rail and freshly painted topsides, I was impressed with the long wintertime hours of sanding and painting both the hull and bright work. In my ideal world I’d rather be sailing than sanding and painting, so I started my boat search by limiting possibilities to fiberglass boats with a minimal amount of exterior bright work. The second feature of Quill that I carried into my search was the chart table. On Quill the chart table was combined with a quarter berth and located on the starboard side just forward of the companionway. There was something about the idea of charts and navigation instruments dedicated to a single, comfortable place in the boat that carried weight with me. And the last aspect of Quill that influenced my ideas about the perfect boat was the engine. What I remember was the process of opening up the bilge and cockpit compartments, running the blower, and using our noses to sniff out any hints of leaked gasoline. While we never had a real scare, the prospects of a booming surprise left me a bit disenchanted with gasoline in a sailboat. A diesel engine was near the top of my list for my new boat.
Following those very memorable years aboard Quill I maintained an interest in boats. Even during those years when I was either landlocked or too busy with career to dedicate any energy to sailing, I slowly built a collection of books about sailing and boat design, and kept a file of boats that I found particularly interesting or attractive to me. The little library included several articles and sketches of Albert Strange’s canoe yawls, correspondence with various designers (Chuck Paine, Harold Payson, and Charles Wittholz…remnants of a gesture toward building my own boat), a collection of reviews and articles about Carl Alberg’s designs, and various brochures picked up at boat shows over the years. Sometime along the way I read L. F. Herreshoff’s Sensible Cruising Designs and found his philosophy a good reflection and summary of my own thoughts. Later, other books about design and boat building were added to this collection and, along with a couple of visits to the Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut, rounded out my early impressions of the proper yacht for me.
Over time these early impressions were supplemented with copies of review articles and a wealth of information gathered over the internet, much arising from on-line boat reviews and detailed information from owner associations throughout the county. Without identifying a specific design or a specific boat, my general preferences grew to be defined by a no-nonsense boat, generally of classic proportions, designed and built for coastal cruising, and of a size that would provide room for friends and yet allow me to sail singlehanded with confidence and ease. In terms of production boats, some of the Cape Dory and Pearson boats designed by Carl Alberg along with the Herreshoff H-28 (various builders) held my attention and became references against which others were measured. The one thing that I also recognized in my evolving list of preferences was that it did not include the need to be a winner at club races. I was not seeking a slow boat, but speed at any cost was not a feature that I wanted in my ideal boat.
My early sailing had been on the Great Lakes where, except for the occasional thunderstorm and associated front, the normal winds were often light and variable. It was not unusual to end a weekend race by motoring back to the mooring due to lack of wind. It was not until I moved to San Francisco that I began to fully appreciate and understand the art of sailing in strong breezes on a regular basis. Design parameters associated with motion comfort, capsize recovery, and sail area to displacement ratios became a new focus of my evaluation of various designs. All of this confirmed my preference for traditional designs that offered a reasonable turn of speed and were sufficiently heavy to offer good stability in a breeze and good manners in a seaway. I chose to leave the ultra light displacement boats to the racing crowd.
And it was while in San Francisco, that I decided to get off the fence and buy a boat. Once I put on my buyer’s hat, the next relevant question was how much was I willing to spend. I wrestled with this question for quite a while. One argument was to buy exactly what I wanted regardless of price, and let the limiting factor on my purchase be the monthly cash flow required. This argument relied on reasonable financing costs, sufficient income to pay the boat mortgage (and all of my other expenses), and good resale value at the end of my ownership period as the method of making this all work. The other argument was to buy without financing and limit the purchase price to the cash expenditure that I could afford at the moment. Resale cost at the end of my period of ownership would be important, but not as critical as in the “buy what I want” plan. And with this scenario, freedom from monthly financing costs would lighten the monthly cost of ownership.
After looking at the used boat market, I realized that it was truly a buyer’s market, and many good boats that would meet my needs were readily available. Eventually I decided to think of the boat purchase much the way I might think of buying a car. I set my budget at $40,000 and recognized that, depending on the boat, $5,000 to $10,000 would be needed to address deferred maintenance and other refurbishment costs. That meant that I should look for a boat in the $30,000 to $35,000 range (2005 dollars).
Another aspect of my experiences in California that probably influenced my thinking was that during the past couple of years, I had the chance to sail somewhat regularly on a 36-foot Pearson sloop. The Pearson name was a name that I recognized from my Lake Michigan sailing days, and my recent experiences crewing on a Pearson in the Bay left me with a very good feeling about the manners, build quality, and durability of these boats. After I began my search, I also ended up sailing with a friend on his Pearson 303, and this again provided confirmation that I would be happy with a Pearson.
What features did I want in my ideal boat? My evaluations tended to center on two important criteria: sailing characteristics and interior accommodations. Thus, I focused on design parameters and demonstrated sailing performance as one set of important features, and on interior layout and appointments as the second set of important features. Of the two, sailing characteristics became the primary initial screening criteria, and interior accommodations and appointments tended to refine the short list and served as a very subjective basis by which boats were eliminated from contention if otherwise acceptable.
Because both of these criteria were in part tied to how the boat would be used, it became necessary for me to think carefully about probable use. This led to a series of questions that I have outlined and answered below. It is important to state that these were questions important to me, and answers that I felt accurate for my situation. It is hopefully obvious that these questions and answers may or may not be appropriate for another buyer’s evaluation. They worked for me, and are included here as an illustration of the process that I followed in choosing my boat.
Where and under what conditions would the boat be sailed? This may seem like a question with obvious answers but it was nevertheless important to be specific. Here in the San Francisco Bay Area three distinct answers are possible: (1) in the Bay, (2) in the far East Bay and Delta (a labyrinth of channels, sloughs, and rivers leading all the way to Stockton and Sacramento), and (3) out the Gate and into the Pacific. For me, the answer was all three with a primary emphasis on Bay sailing and coastal cruising. Delta sailing was not a high priority, but the idea of a week or two once a year poking around some of these inland waterways had a certain appeal.
Under what conditions would I sail? Given primary emphasis on Bay sailing and coastal cruising this easily translated to normal conditions of winds in the range of 20 to 25 knots, and ocean swells as might be seen on the Pacific coast. Given the shortage of secure harbors along the coast, I also wanted the boat to be capable of handling more than the 20-25 knot winds that I could expect in the Bay, and the boat needed to be stable and well mannered in a good seaway. Another characteristic of Bay and coastal sailing is the prospect of significant tidal currents. Sometimes these exceed the hull speed of small boats sailing in the Bay, and represent an added element that cannot safely be ignored.
At the time that I was looking for a boat I did not consider long distance passage making as an important probable use. However, within the first several months of sailing on a regular basis I’ll admit that this type of sailing entered my mind.
What type of crew? For me this was easily answered. Even if I had crew available, I did not want my sailing experiences to be limited by the availability or competence of crew. For this reason, I wanted a boat that could be easily singlehanded. If crew were along, it would simply add to the enjoyment rather than be a prerequisite for going out.
How long would I be out? For Bay sailing most destinations are close enough to make day sailing the most frequent type of outing. Some more remote destinations do exist (especially in the Delta), so I considered overnight trips likely. Similarly, coastal sailing to Half Moon Bay, Drakes Bay, Bodega Bay, etc. would call for multi day outings.
What type of accommodations? This was probably the easiest set of parameters for me to define. I wanted a dedicated chart table and navigation station, preferably with an associated quarter berth. I wanted a galley that included a gimbaled stove and oven, preferably served by built-in propane tanks. A refrigeration system was considered a necessity, as was adequate freshwater tankage, sink, head, and hot water heater. And I wanted standing headroom of at least 6’0”. All of these may seem excessive, but in addition to sailing, I also wanted to be able to use the boat as a home-away-from-home, a weekend cabin of sorts.
Most important to me in regard to accommodations was the very subjective requirement that the boat feel and look like a boat in a very classic and traditional sense. I was not eager to have a boat that looked and felt like a plastic container or a cheap travel trailer. The warmth offered by a teak and holly sole, reasonable amounts of bright work below, an obvious nautical design aesthetic, and high build quality were important to me.
Since my primary selection criteria focused on design parameters and demonstrated sailing performance, I’ll elaborate on the specific aspects of design and performance that were important.
Length and Beam. Given the desire to sail the boat singlehandedly, an upper boat length (Length Overall – LOA) of 34 to 36 feet seemed appropriate based on my research. Larger boats have certainly been sailed singlehandedly, but other factors also helped define the maximum length. The upper limit on length was a reflection of real budget limitations, both for initial purchase price and for recurring costs associated with slip rental, maintenance, and upkeep. As a subset of overall length, I looked at length at water line (LWL) as an indicator of possible boat speed, and (when combined with beam) as an indicator of boat volume.Displacement. As indicated earlier, I was not interested in ultra light displacement boats. I viewed displacement as a one aspect of boat design that contributed to good sea manners, good stability, and comfort.
Sail Area (SA) and Rig. I wanted sufficient sail area to drive the boat to windward in a seaway, but not so great that I needed crew to hand the sails. In developing a sense for what was acceptable, I was reminded of a day sailer that I had owned years ago. It was a very early fiberglass design by Ray Greene with a fractional rig and a relatively large main. The boat was great fun, but a bit hard to balance and easily over powered as the breeze picked up. I was also reminded that most of my sailing would be here in the Bay Area where winds were not in short supply and where an overly large sail plan would simply result in sailing with reefed sails most of the time.
As I looked at displacement boats, and especially with the advent of reliable roller furling, I decided that a masthead rig with a modest E dimension (mainsail foot length) combined with jib roller furling was most desirable. A modest E dimension along with roller furling suggested to me that I could shorten sail singlehandedly as the breeze picked up and, in the extreme, I could sail under jib or main alone depending on the point of sail.
PHRF Rating. While speed for racing was not critical to me, I was interested in the relative performance of boats on my short list, and I used the base PHRF handicap rating as a means of comparison.
Sail Area to Displacement Ratio. SAD = SA / (Displacement in lbs./ 64)2/3. This single number combines the influence of sail area with the overall weight of the boat…basically a power to weight ratio. As one might expect, a higher number indicates better light air performance while a lower number suggests that more wind will be required to bring the boat to hull speed and optimum performance. Ted Brewer’s web site suggests that ratios of about 14 are at the low end for a true sailboat while ratios from 14-17 are representative of ocean cruisers. Coastal cruisers fall in with rations 16-18. Ultra light displacement boats may have SADs of 30, 40 or more.
Given that wind is generally in ample supply here in the Bay area and that I wanted a sail plan that was easily singlehanded, I determined that a number near the low end of the range was acceptable to me.
Motion Comfort Ratio (MCR). This design parameter is attributed to yacht designer Ted Brewer. It combines displacement, overall length, water line length, and waterline beam into an empirical formula that yields an indicator of how a boat will respond to wave action. A small number is generally associated with light displacement and more noticeable acceleration (less comfort) as the boat moves upon a sea. A larger MCR suggests that the boat will move through the seas with less direct motion transferred to its occupants. This results in improved comfort and in less crew fatigue than felt in a boat with a lower MCR. MCRs of above about 30 are associated with cruising boats, while ultra light displacement boats may have MCRs of less than 10. I did not choose an absolute minimum value that was acceptable to me, but my conservative nature and thoughts of how I would use the boat led me to look favorably on higher MCR numbers when comparing boats.
Capsize Screening Formula (CSF). The CSF owes its origins to the disastrous 1979 Fastnet race. This 600-mile race from the Ilse of Wight off the southwest coast of England to Ireland’s Fastnet Rock and back to Plymouth saw a fleet of 303 starters reduced to only 85 boats that finished the race. Five boats sank, nineteen were abandoned, 136 sailors were rescued, and fifteen sailors perished. Savage storms and seas of epic proportions provided deadly conditions for those venturing off shore in this race.
The CSF was one positive outcome of the otherwise disastrous race. The Cruising Club of America developed the CSF after detailed analysis of race boat data. The CSF assigns a value to a boat’s design derived from the beam dimension and its displacement. The CSF is an indicator of how readily a boat will right itself if capsized. Excessive beam is viewed poorly (since it will contribute to stability in the inverted, turtle position) and higher displacement is viewed favorably since it contributes to righting moment. A lower CSF indicates better righting moment than a higher value. Some race committees have limited participation only to boats with a CSF of 2 or less.
In my search for a boat I found that about half of the boats that I considered had a CSF greater than 2, and half had CSFs that were less than 2. What I noticed was that many contemporary designs had CSFs well above 2. This can be attributed to the combined affect of larger beam and lighter displacement in many boats designed and built for racing or for volume. In my evaluations, I consider all boats that had a CSF reasonably close to 2 or less, but favored those with the lowest CSFs.
Displacement/Length Ratio. D/L = (Displacement in lbs. / 2240) / (0.01*LWL)3. This parameter assigns a dimensionless value to the ratio of displacement to waterline length, and is generally used as an indicator of hull speed potential. Ted Brewer’s web site shows possible D/L values from 40 to 400 for various boat types, with a range of 250 to 300 for an average cruiser. I did not use D/L as a screening criterion for my evaluations. I used waterline length and SAD to assess boat speed in a rather subjective manner. In preparing this text, I looked at the D/L for all of the boats that made my shortlist, and found the range to be from 255 to 303, with only two exceptions: the Pearson 35-foot centerboard hull had a D/L of 371, and the Tartan 33 which had a D/L of 186.
Hull Shape. While not easily reduced to any particular design parameter, hull shape was important to me. I initially thought that a centerboard configuration might be desirable as it combined shoal draft with reasonable performance, and was common on boats designed in the late 60s and early 70s (the Tartan 34c and Pearson 35 being two enduring examples). As I continued my evaluation I became wary of the mechanical systems associated with a centerboard in boats that might be approaching 40 years in age. I am certain that I could have resolved this issue, but it turned out that other, non-centerboard boats that met my needs were more available here in San Francisco than those with a centerboard. Nevertheless, the idea of shoal capabilities remained somewhat important to me and became a subjective consideration in my selection process.
In moving away from the centerboard option to a fixed keel, I was confronted with needing to understand ballast options, and the associated pros and cons. What I learned was that a fixed keel with internal lead ballast seemed to offer the best balance between performance and low maintenance: no keel bolts to worry about, no corrosion problems with internal or externally hung steel ballast, and yet the advantages of lead in terms of weight and righting moment.
In addition to the issue of ballast type, it became important to fully understand the combined implications of hull shape, keel, and rudder configuration. I had read of a few designs that seemed to have too small a rudder, and was aware of the vulnerable spade-type rudder on many designs focused on speed. As a result, a skeg-mounted rudder was viewed with favor in my boat evaluations. Similarly, the type of keel was of interest. With options ranging from full keel to fin keel I spent a fair amount of time studying the pros and cons of each option. I ended up gravitating to a preference for a low aspect ratio fin keel or a cut away full keel offering reasonable shoal water capabilities without sacrificing windward performance.
Deck Configuration and Equipment. Since time sailing generally means time in the cockpit and on deck, I identified a few features that I judged important. First and foremost was the need for a foredeck anchor well. In boats of 30 to 36 feet (my length criteria) I knew that storage would be limited, and nothing seemed more out of place than retrieving an anchor with chain and rode from a cockpit locker and lugging it to the bow. Not only would this be inconvenient but I judged it unsafe if anchoring rapidly was needed to keep the boat off of a lee shore, or more likely to anchor the boat in circumstances associated with strong current, light air and a failed engine. Also related to safety was my strong preference for a bridge deck between the cockpit and cabin. For many this feature may seem as just another impediment to easy movement in a boat; for me it was the primary means of keeping water from the cabin if the boat were to broach or be pooped by a wave.
In terms of equipment, and as a practical measure to help with singlehanded sailing, self-tailing winches were considered a must (either in the boat as purchased or as a top retrofit priority). I did not view spinnaker winches as essential since I did not see myself flying a spinnaker often in the Bay area. As another gesture toward singlehanded capability, I wanted to see as many lines run to the cockpit as possible.
As a carryover from my time crewing on Quill and from my own day sailer I had a preference for a tiller over a wheel. There is truly something alive about the feel of motion and energy that is transmitted through the tiller, and I did not want to forsake this if possible. As it turned out, most of the boats that I ended up looking at were configured with a wheel. I understand this to be the result of buyer preferences resulting from the perception that a wheel would be less disruptive in the cockpit than a tiller.
When it came time to connect features and preferences with an actual boat, I found the Internet a great source of information. Many owner and class associations provide design parameters, owner reviews, typical maintenance projects, and suggestions for trouble spots to look for when buying a used boat. I also found a web site that featured a share-ware program (Carl's Sail Calculator v2.72) that included design parameters for countless boats, thus making technical comparisons easy and straightforward. And because of the many brokerages that post detailed descriptions, images, and asking prices on the web it was easy to virtually look at several examples of almost any boat that held my interest. Yachtworld.com became one of my favorite sites for looking at what was available, assessing price, and studying images and details before I ever set foot in a marina to actually look at a boat.
But in the end, the most important step was actually visiting and looking at boats in person. I walked the marinas and talked to owners of boats that I was considering. Many were very helpful and more than willing to show me their boat and tell me of their experiences. There is nothing more real than sitting in the cockpit, or banging your head on the cabin ceiling of a boat that you are considering to bring home the benefits or limitations of a particular boat. I recall that early in my search, I was considering a couple of 30-footers. They looked good on paper and all of the design parameters were acceptable to me, but first-hand observation showed that they were just too small to meet my personal expectations and needs.
The attached table is my personal short list based on my personal selection criteria. It is important to recognize that it is no more than that. Other people would very likely evaluate a given boat differently than I did, and clearly other people would have different criteria and preferences. Nevertheless, I thought it useful to present it here as a reference, and as an example of a short-list that actually was used and guided me to my boat.
My short list ended up with several boats by Pearson. As indicated earlier, I attribute this to past and recent knowledge and experience with Pearsons. My short list included one centerboard boat, and the longest boat on my short list was 35 feet. Most boats that I considered had a CSF very close to 2; those with a CSF substantially greater than 2 simply didn’t make it to my short list. Another feature common to all boats on my short list was a sloop rig, and none had a full keel.
I admit that after a few conversations with a couple of dealers I started my search hoping that I would find a C&C 32. For some reason, on paper, these boats had great appeal to me, were reported to be quite fast, and a boat that had held its value well. But the reality was that during the period that I was looking for a boat, none were available, and I never had the chance to evaluate the boat in person.
Of the long list of Pearsons, the first boat that I visited was a Pearson 323. It turned out to be a design that I kept coming back to because it seemed to embody many of the criteria that were important to me. Also on the list of Pearsons was a 31-footer that to me, based only on paper and internet reviews, seemed a good possibility. I liked the look of the pinched-in transom and the fractional rig. It turned out that when I actually had a chance to visit the boat, I did not like it. The reality of a relatively small cockpit and a lack of that classic boat interior that was important to me were too much to over come.
I did stray a bit and took a close look at an Ericson 30 and liked what I saw, but the relative smallness of the cabin in a 30 foot boat led me elsewhere. And I was also intrigued by and interested in the Islander 36, which is a very popular boat here in the Bay Area. It ended up being removed from my list primarily because of cost, but also because of the lack of a bridge deck that was relatively important to me. A Pearson 34 attracted my attention but was also removed due to cost. And I looked at several early Hunter and Catalina models that just did not seem to meet several of my criteria.
After an initial burst of visiting with dealers and looking at boats, I settled into a pattern that acknowledged that this was going to take some time, and that finding a boat would indeed be a compromise of one kind or another. I decided to simply respond favorably to the first boat that I found that resulted in an acceptable compromise based on my short list and on the criteria that I had identified.
In addition to the very first 323 that I had visited, I found two more Pearson 323s and one Pearson 303 that were for sale simultaneously along with an Ericson 35 Mark II.
The first 323 that I visited was not quite right for me due to some unanswerable comments that appeared in the survey. I struggled with this first boat. I liked it, it seemed to meet most of the criteria that I had established, and a recent survey was available from an earlier buyer who had changed his mind at the last minute. This was great from my point of view because I was spared the cost of the survey, but left difficult (and unanswerable) questions about why the earlier buyer had walked away from this boat after spending money on a survey. The boat had a relatively new engine (though some survey issues seemed to linger), needed new sails, and needed new interior cushions and upholstery. The survey also had identified some unusual abrasion at the rudder, so I was a bit concerned. But I did put together an offer that I thought was sufficiently low to cover the risk. It was countered and I did not accept the counter because it was apparent that the seller did not want me to conduct another survey, and was reluctant to allow me to condition my offer on a satisfactory sea trial. Later the seller seemed to reconsider, but all was lost in a cloud of emails, phone calls, and an offer from another buyer (who ended up with the boat). I formed some sort of irrational attachment to this particular boat. I really wanted it to be the right boat, and as such, it became the benchmark against which I compared almost every other boat that I looked at.
One of the very positive outcomes of that futile first offer was that I developed a tool to help me evaluate each future boat that I wanted to consider seriously. It was a simple spreadsheet, first suggested by another boat owner that I had met on one of my strolls through the local marinas. The spreadsheet adjusted the asking price by an assumed 10 percent discount for a negotiated cash purchase and then made further adjustments to account for those items of deferred maintenance or refurbishment that I knew would be necessary, and to show added value for such work that had already been completed by the previous owner. It was in this way that I was able to fairly compare one boat to another…one with new sails and new engine to one with original engine and aging sails. Yachtworld.com became my database for information about asking prices and “average” condition and features.
My spreadsheet evaluation tool also quickly pointed out the benefit of finding a boat locally as opposed to one in another West Coast port. At first, I considered boats in any California or Oregon location. But when I added transport costs or delivery skipper charges to my evaluation form, I quickly realized that for a boat in my price range, I would be much better off shopping locally. Unfortunately, the Ericson 35 and one of the Pearson 323s were both located in Southern California and were thus quickly removed from real consideration. This may sound like an obvious conclusion, but at first I was influenced by the large number of boats available in southern California and the misplaced idea that I would consider the trip north a good way to get to know the boat.
For the remaining 323 and 303 that were both local, I was able to compare both with the very first 323 that I had visited and with each other. I rejected the 303 because that particular boat lacked the classic boat feel that I was after. For the 323, I ended up satisfying myself that it was the right boat for me if I could get it at a price close to that determined by my spreadsheet evaluation tool.
Making a purchase offer for a sailboat can be quite simple or quite complicated depending on the situation. In the extreme, it will be as formal and time consuming as buying a house if not more so. Regardless of the mechanisms involved, it soon became apparent that a couple of specific activities should be undertaken along the way. One is the evaluation (as indicated above), the second is the sea trial, and the third is the survey. While I cannot hope to cover all possible situations, my experience provided clarity about these important and basic steps.
As a buyer, the initial inspection and the associated evaluation are the logical first step. The evaluation based on “average” boats that I found on the internet (yachtworld.com and other online brokerage sites) provided a fairly good idea of a fair market value for the boat, and typical condition and features that I might expect to find. The initial inspection allowed adjustments based on the obvious things observed during the initial visits. New sails, new engine, recent standing rigging replacements, etc. should add value whereas old and tired sails, an engine with high hours, or original rigging should reduce value.
For my boat, the initial inspection proved to be very important. A previously undisclosed mechanical problem was obvious to me, and became the subject of considerable discussion. It turned out that the Owner was aware of the problem, had completed a fair amount of research into the cost of repair, and was amenable to sharing the information with me. A survey of the boat had been completed earlier in the year, and this information was also made available to me.
Once an evaluation was complete, I found that it was time to formulate an offer price based on the boat as I had observed it, and on assumed good condition of those things that would be better observed during a sea trial or survey. John Kuony (now at Cruising Yachts, Inc.) gave me sound advice in this regard. He advised me to formulate an offer price based on what you know, and on the assumption that nothing detrimental will be discovered during the subsequent sea trial or survey. With this approach, I was able to formulate an offer price that incorporated the Owner’s prior estimates of mechanical repair and that was subject to sea trial and survey.
Regarding the importance and cost of surveys, I am reminded of advice from another boater: “If you think the cost of a survey is too high, then you really have no business buying a boat.” This was the advice of one of the boat owners that I met during one of my visits to a local marina. I agree. Others have said it many times before, and I want to join the chorus here in confirming the importance of the survey step. On a sailboat of any age, many systems and components should be looked at carefully with the objective of confirming functionality or identifying needed repairs or maintenance. And very often two or three surveys may be warranted: one of the hull and systems, a second specifically of the engine, and a third might involve a rig inspection if the hull and systems survey cannot confirm condition of the standing rigging and spars.
I prepared and submitted an offer that placed the burden of mechanical repair on the Owner, and that was subject to acceptable results from a sea trial and engine survey. The Owner made a counter offer that rejected my proposal for the Owner to make the necessary mechanical repairs but revised the price downward by an amount reflected by the Owner’s research. I accepted this offer, and a date for the sea trial was determined. The sequence of events and offer were selected and formulated so that if I was disappointed by the sea trial, I could withdraw my offer before spending additional money on the engine survey.
The sea trial was uneventful and confirmed engine operation, that the sails were essentially new, and that the boat had sailing characteristics acceptable to me. I did discover an instrument malfunction that was not disclosed to me earlier, but otherwise was very pleased with the outcome of the sea trail.
Because the boat had been surveyed earlier in the year, I did not judge it essential to repeat that survey. I did however believe it important to conduct an engine survey, and am very glad that I did. The venerable Volvo MD11C powered the boat and the engine survey revealed that, while sound, it was in need of some attention. The surveyor also was able to see that the alternator was inoperable and needed replacement. With a new sense of the cost for dealing with the original mechanical problem, and estimates for the alternator replacement and deferred maintenance, I was in a position to either walk away from transaction or revise my offer. I chose to revise my offer, it was accepted, and in October of 2005 I found myself as the new Owner of Libations Too, this Pearson 323.