My Little Sea Pony

The morning dawned bright, with the promise of heat. At the marina, it stretched out before me, a blank slate begging for a plan, so as to not slip away without being defined by some sort of satisfaction of a job well done. The time had come to wash the teak and apply a few coats of Semco finish. Mike had gone on a few errands, I had a book loaded on my phone to listen to. I was ready to begin.

Really low tide. Blue skies. Warm. It doesn’t get better than this in August. Aside from the smell.

As I got out the teak wash and a bucket, Mike appeared, back surprisingly early from his errands. He looked, I don’t know, like he had something on his mind, maybe. There was definitely a ‘look’; an urgency he radiated. But I was not sure how to read that.

“I need to tell you something.”

These are the words that tumbled out of his mouth, apparently without his thinking about it. Let me just go on record here: if you are married to someone who is waiting patiently (like yourself)  for the next round of cruising, crossing her fingers that nothing in life will prevent that from happening, if you have adult children, or aging parents, or either of you has had to address health issues, or basically, let’s get real, if you are in any kind of relationship at all… do not begin a conversation with the words, “I need to tell you something.” That generally precedes a telling of some kind of thing that means: “Life as you have come to enjoy it, is about to change, and not necessarily for the better. That peaceful, calm existence you have had for maybe two days is about to end early. The day you have been dreading and didn’t even know it has arrived.”  ‘I need to tell you something’ is right up there with ‘We need to talk’ in terms of popular conversation starters.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I cried, “What?? What happened? What’s going on?”

You may think I over reacted. and perhaps so, but there is precedent to that, as any parent knows. My mind immediately goes to something happening to one of our kids. If it’s not them then it’s one of the moms, a bad report from some doctor, or maybe someone has vandalized our car, our house… all of it crashes around jockeying for position in my head. I’ve lived long enough for any or all of those things to be true. Anyhow, now Mike is irritated that I have taken his warning incorrectly, but my stomach remains unmoved, on the ground, waiting.

Then he lays it on me:

“I’ve decided I have to give you a birthday present a day early. I don’t want to leave it in the car, and I don’t want to store it in the basement at the house. So I’m just giving it to you today….and then you can decide what you want to do with the rest of your day”.

I did not throttle him.

This? This is what “I’ve got to tell you something…” means? This is what was causing ‘the look’? Dear sweet Lord in his small fleece diaper. I am giddy with relief. I shift gears as I pick my  shaken stomach off of the bench seat and replace it in my body, the cascade of stress hormones making my hands only a little bit shaky. The ground is suddenly solidly there under my feet again. I can definitely get on board with early presents! Whew.

‘OOOH, a present? A day early? Is it a PONY?’

I have always thought getting a pony for my birthday would be right up there with scuba diving with manta rays. Plus we have a running family joke about getting ponies for special occasions. I’m not exactly sure what I would do with a real pony, but my daughter in law would probably take that off my hands.

That time Claire came home from Europe (or some other exotic local) and we surprised her with a backyard pony.

“I’ll give you hint’, he says, eyes all a-twinkle.  “It’s about 10 ponies.”

“An engine! You got the engine! and it’s here and now we can get out on the water in the new dinghy! Is it in the car? Can we get it and go out today?”  All thoughts and plans of refinishing teak vanish with not even a whimper. I was practically jumping up and down.

It was, indeed, the engine, which is a Yamaha 9.9 HP 2 stroke he bought at the engine sales and repair place near the marina. We wanted a 2 stroke because of their simplicity.

And this is paired with our new dinghy! We bought a True Kit Inflatable Catamaran dinghy from New Zealand. And we couldn’t be more pleased with it!

New dinghy and engine, in the back of our old Mexico van.

If you have been a reader, you know that on our first cruise we sported a Portland Pudgy named Penguin.  It served us really well for a number of years and we found it to be almost the perfect dinghy for tooling around the Pacific Northwest. However, our needs changed as we traveled further afield. We found that it was too slow and plodding in the sometimes rough conditions of the Sea of Cortez and Pacific Mexico. It took too long to get places, like back to our boat in an emergency. It was also really dangerous landing that dinghy in any kind of surf. To be sure, I don’t enjoy surf landings in any way, but being sideways in a hard, plastic dinghy with a wave crashing over me, hanging on for dear life  is an experience I do not want to repeat. Not to mention how heavy the Pudgy is if it gets pooped; a story for another day.

Farewell to Penguin, our sweet Pudgy. We actually do miss this little boat. She was perfect for the Pacific Northwest and she found a home with a family with kids who will use her to explore locally. I hope they are having a great time.

Carrying the Pudgy was also a bit of a problem. Near to shore, we carried it on davits, but on our ocean crossings it had to live on the foredeck. It got in the way and also the boat motion would be such that we had to keep a close eye on it to be sure it wasn’t moving around. One of the reasons we bought the Pudgy was its rating as a lifeboat, but just the idea that we would be able to deploy it from the bow of our boat in probably heaving seas makes me want to laugh; a bit hysterically, to be sure.

A fond memory of an ocean crossing. Probably trying to capture a sea bird. Note dinghy on deck.

It just was not optimal and I kept wishing we had bought this neat inflatable we had seen at a boat show long ago. That one fit in a bag when it was deflated, and you could stow it below deck. That one factor began to be deal breaker on finding a new dinghy as we began to research, looking for something that filled us with dinghy lust.  We just wanted that foredeck on Galapagos to be free and clear, and we wanted to be able to get places fast. We also needed something to carry snorkeling, and maybe even scuba, equipment. The Portland Pudgy got mega crowded on long day trips.

Enter the True Kit and its ALMOST twin, the Takacat.  Lightweight, stable, packable, they have an interesting bow design that would allow easy snorkeling or diving from the boat. After months of perseveration, we decided that we would buy one of these two models of boats. But which one? They looked almost the same.

The Takacat is available from suppliers here in the states, so that makes it a little easier to source. Luckily, there was a dealer at the boat show in Seattle this year and we were able to size one up in person. While we liked the general design features, we did not pull the trigger to buy one. Why? Somehow it just didn’t feel beefy enough for the conditions we were going to be in. It was PVC, which I didn’t think would be a deal breaker,  but there was something about the models we saw that just left us not feeling sure about them and part of that was the feel of the PVC. Also I was not crazy about the rope handles on the inside of the pontoons. They did not feel like they would offer enough purchase for me and I could see the rope hurting my hands. And the rub rail was not as solid as I felt like it should be. In addition we were not impressed with the design of the transom, which seemed like a weak spot. In fact the dealer was talking about how they were going to be changing that design.

We walked away feeling a little, well, deflated, if you’ll pardon the expression. It was just a gut feeling thing. And we have learned to listen to that. If we were just going to be in inland waters, the Takacat would have been just fine.  But we decided to pursue the True Kit and I emailed them to ask how their model differed from the Takacat.

Basically the difference is in the fabric, the beefier transom, a more pronounced upward curve to the open bow, and some details like the number of firm handholds (rather than rope handholds), the addition of an aluminum seat, and the heat welded seams on the True Kit. Overall, the general feel of the True Kit, even on line, looked sturdier to us, like it would stand up to harder use. The fabric, while not the usual traditional Hypalon, is a large step above regular PVC.

The fabric is called Valmex. While less well known in the US, it has been used more extensively in other parts of the world. Here is some information about this fabric to get you started if you are interested. It  is produced in Germany by Mehler Technologies and can be heat welded rather than glued. On Hypalon inflatables, it’s generally the glue that gives out before the fabric, as we discovered with the old Avon inflatable we were given by other cruisers in La Cruz.

We ordered our True Kit and it was quickly delivered from New Zealand, with only a brief stop at customs so they could ask for a small fee to import the boat. The fee was less than 100$.

Out of the box, it’s really easy to set this boat up. You tube has a number of videos of the True Kit folks setting up the boat, taking it in rough seas, showing it off, etc. Yep, they do know how to make a sale.

Right out of the box. Inflate the pontoons a bit, drop in the floor, inflate the floor, then finish inflating the pontoons. Fast and easy.

Et voila! So far, it’s a very dry ride, as the bow lifts a bit even when not on a plane. Water runs out the back at the transom, keeping the inside of the boat dry. Considering we were always wet in both the Pudgy and the old Avon, we’ll take our chances with this.

So on a day that I was supposed to be cleaning teak, I found myself zipping around the bay in our new dinghy flying fast and free, and discovering that neither of us yet have the skills to get a boat up on a plane and feel safe. This boat planes beautifully, but wow. We are sailors. We aren’t used to going that fast!

Woo hoooo! And that’s why we like beefier handholds. This is exactly the position I was imagining when looking at the Takacat and I would not have been happy with the rope hold they provide. This is where experience the second go around really makes a difference in decision making.

I got to go first as the driver because it was my birthday. The engine started right up and soon we were off, skimming across the bay. As Mike took his turn at the engine, I lounged in the front end of the boat. Another benefit I will enjoy. I just layed right down and stared up at the water. There was plenty of room. “Sea Pony”. I said. Its name is “Sea Pony”.

I’ll be painting another octopus on the new engine cowling, just like we had for the smaller engine we used for several years. But I’ll be sure there is a place for a turquoise sea pony with flowing pink hair.

Digging these fancy ponies! Our bathtub was home to many over the years.

 

 

Boat Review: 1993 Catalina Morgan 381, S/V Squirrel

This week Mike and I are guilty. We are the worst kind of boat owners; disloyal, furtive, secretive. We’ve spoken in low voices to one another, whispering so that Galapagos would not hear us. That’s right. We are that bad. We looked at another boat.

S/V Squirrel

S/V Squirrel

Don’t get your knickers in a twist; don’t get your hopes up. We aren’t selling our beloved S/V Galapagos. (AS IF WE WOULD! I MEAN, COME ON!) But we still love looking at boats, and you’d be surprised at how much traction our boat reviews get after all these years (wow, was I NEW when I wrote those). So when S/V Squirrel, a lovely Catalina Morgan center cockpit, went up for sale by owner this week, I had to see her and do a review for the blog. Only about 100 of these boats were built, so I felt lucky there was one right here on our dock in Olympia.

Stepping aboard S/V Squirrel, my first impression was one of pleasant surprise.  Considering she is a center cockpit, and only 38 feet long, I did not expect to have room to put my foot next to the cockpit combing, much less have walkable side decks. On a lot of modern boats, it feels as though more thought is given to the living space below than to the working space on deck. I was chuffed with the easy to manage cockpit entry and easy (safe) access to the foredeck,  as well as the roomy aft deck with a great sugar scoop. Visions of access to the boat from the water, up the swim ladder,  wafted through my head, until I remembered this water is way too cold for me. Still, dinghy access would be dead easy from the stern.

 

Easy access side decks and a people-friendly cockpit.

So nice!

This boat sports an entire canvas cockpit enclosure, which is worth almost any amount of money in the cold and rainy Pacific Northwest. Such an enclosure seriously extends the sailing season if you care even a small bit about comfort. (This boat also has a Webasto heater for the interior, extending the sailing season even further.) In addition, lines are run to the cockpit for adjusting sails, minimizing the need to go up on deck. The cockpit, while snug, is big enough to sit 6 people easily, and more than that if they like one another. This boat has cockpit cushions covered in Pfifertex; easy to clean and keep dry. They could have made the cockpit wider, but that would have compromised those lovely side decks and head space below. This is one boat design compromise that paid off in all ways.

Electronics are all at the helm and the traveler is within easy reach of the helmsman. We looked at this with a critical eye as plans for re-rigging Galapagos are never far from our minds lately.

Douse the main easily with this stack pack. In addition, raise the main with the Milwaukee Power Winch

Moving forward on the deck, I noted the number of large hatches which would offer light and airflow below. There’s a Stack Pack for easy dousing of the mainsail and a Schaeffer roller furler for the genoa. This boat looks like it has a pretty straight forward sail system layout. Even a fairly inexperienced sailor would be able to get her going with a few pointers.

In terms of layout, workable systems, and moving around the deck, I like this boat. The cockpit,  while a little narrow, is nap-ready and includes lazarette storage Galapagos only dreams of having. The compromises I can identify have been done well and the overall look of the boat has not suffered. It’s so easy for a center cockpit to have that ‘wedding cake’ appearance that creates windage and can look clunky.  This boat is easy to move around on and that aft deck is brilliant for a boat this size. The boat feels like it would be fun to sail. Let’s go below.

Descending the companionway steps,  I am am transported. The saloon is light and airy with over 6 feet of head room… this is a 38 foot vessel? Let’s just say this: for a boat this size, there is a lot here and most of it is done really well. This feels like a much bigger boat. I’m thinking of a number of boats I’ve been on where all the living space amenities feel as though they have been crammed together into a space too small for an easy fit, making a boat feel not so much cozy as cramped. Not so with this boat.

I wanted to start exploring in the saloon, but then I noticed the galley and got completely distracted.  It reminded me a bit of the galley on S/V Totem, a Stevens 47 owned by Behan and Jamie Gifford. They have the best boat galley I’ve seen. Like their boat, this galley runs along the port side of the boat, making a great workable space under most conditions. On board Galapagos, we’d have to give up our workshop to make that happen, so…nope. Still, this galley on S/V Squirrel is terrific. It sports a double stainless steel sink, double Isotherm fridge, and a two burner propane stove/oven. Unless you are feeding a large group, that’s plenty of cooktop space, in my experience. We have a 4 burner stove on Galapagos, and it’s generally overkill. Still, there is room on this boat for a larger unit if someone wanted to put one there.

A view from the aft cabin.

Food storage seems just adequate in the galley but I recognize that I tend to pack our boat as though the end of the world is upon us. (And maybe it is. Who’ll be prepared when the zombies come to take us to their leaders? Hmmm?) A design compromise that interferes with extensive galley storage is that the engine access is beneath the starboard side of the galley. The Westerbeke engine lives underneath the counter and panels are removed to access it for routine maintenance. This owner has provided both extra storage and extra seating by including a storage ottoman that slides under the saloon table. It’s a nifty solution that follows the rule most boaters live by: preference is given to items that have more than one use.

While we are on that subject of the engine being beneath the galley, engine access is one of the weak points of this boat. Realize that I say that from the position of a person who owns a much larger boat with an entire engine room with 360 degree engine access. We’ve been in the position of owning a smaller boat with really tight engine access and we can never go back to that, so let’s get real about how I measure access and put that in perspective. This is one of those areas of compromise in boat design that can be pretty important, especially if you do your own engine work. Routine maintenance should not be an issue on this engine in this space, but anything further than that might be more difficult. If the engine is in really good shape this is less of an issue. Michael reports that the water pump has good access, an important point.

This access panel is behind the companionway ladder. It’s pretty easy to get to.

Not content to trust my own judgement on this topic of engine access, I sought the opinion of local diesel engine maven Meredith Anderson. If you don’t know Meredith, then you probably don’t live in the Puget Sound area. She is a local expert on all things diesel engine and we are lucky enough to live on the same dock. She is one of the only mechanics we have met who would be allowed to touch Hiram, our Beta Marine 60. Only the best for Hiram. She’s done some routine work on S/V Squirrel’s engine and has this to say about the access;

“Engine access is there, but somewhat mediocre when it comes to serious repairs. Routine maintenance is easily accessed.”

That jives with my impressions and on my second look-see at this boat I was able to see the access with panels removed. Overall it’s better than what we had with our Cal34. We had a much older Westerbeke with thousands more hours on it than this one and we cruised the hell out of that boat. It’s true that Michael will always default to the position of a large, unhappy shrimp when reflecting on our time with that engine, but since this engine has better access than our beloved Cal (still miss you sometimes, Moonrise) and is much newer with around 1200 hours on her, well… you see where I’m going with that. 

These panels are actually really easy to take off.

Back in the saloon, well, it’s lovely; just a beautifully laid out cabin. It sports a classic oval-ish table which can be removed. With the table stowed in the dedicated space in the forward cabin (and very cleverly, I might add), that settee can be extended to create a ‘double’ berth. To starboard are two seats with a useful table between them; also with the ability to be transformed into a single berth. Multiple opening ports create visual space, increase airflow, and offer good natural light. There is a navigation desk that is adequate to the task, but are you really going to use it for that?

Personally, on a boat that is intended primarily for coastal cruising, I’m not sure why a navigation area is included, especially as all instruments are in the cockpit. Perhaps it’s just tradition; like it’s not really a sailboat if you don’t include a navigation table.  If I were cruising this boat, I’d be using that big oval table for charts so Mike and I could look at them together. We’re still old school about paper charts on board because they offer a big view of the area and they are great for overall cruise planning. But unless we are offshore and are tracking our position on paper (which we enjoy doing since it’s the only way you can tell you are actually going anywhere), we don’t use our own nav station on board Galapagos for actual navigation.

This table stows easily on special brackets in the forward cabin. The settee then can be pulled out to form a double. The ottoman offers seating and also storage. photo by owner.

Lower this table and add a cushion and you have an additional berth. These ‘chairs’ are very comfortable! photo by owner. Note the tidy electrical panel. Very easy to access.

In order to keep that uncluttered feeling, stowage along the hull above the settees has been minimized. This means that the saloon is visually the full width of the boat. On a coastal cruiser, this compromise is fine and it does make this boat feel like a bigger boat. Coastal cruisers are unlikely to be loaded down with year-round gear and supplies and that level of storage is unlikely to be needed. The current owner uses pretty baskets to store small personal items in the saloon. If I had to choose, I’d go for a more open looking saloon under those conditions.

Moving forward, we get to the classic V berth, which is decently sized for a 38 foot boat. Two average sized people could sleep up here if they liked each other well enough. And it has its own ensuite head, of which I am dead jealous. Do we have an ensuite head for our v berth? We do. We have a 1970’s head and it looks like it. I have mixed feelings about that. Probably I’m going to do something about it someday. Probably. 

The heads on S/V Squirrel are sleek and shiny, smooth fiberglass that is easy to wipe down, easy to keep clean. There is no teak trim that needs maintenance. The part of me that likes things to be visually uncluttered in a head really likes that. The part of me that doesn’t like to spend too much time cleaning really likes that. But the part of me that likes easy access to things like waterlines wonders how I would change out a faucet if I wanted to.

On our boat, it’s a simple matter to get to the hoses to the toilet and sink. Replacing those might not be easy, but it’s simple in theory and in access. This boat is a different animal. Probably it’s easy, but I just don’t understand how it works. Those shiny, smooth fiberglass panels had not been invented when our boat was built. The idea of being able to just spray down an entire room, wipe it dry, and call it good is so appealing that it would be worth finding out. Poor 1975 Galapagos. She does have a lot of nooks and crannies. I understand how she feels.

Even the aft head sports a way to get a quick shower.

If you’ve become convinced I am saving the best for last, you’re right. The crowning glory of this 38 foot boat is the aft cabin with its centerline queen bed. I bet the designers and sales people started drawing the interior of this boat with this cabin in mind and then did what they had to do to make it work.  I can only imagine the conversations around the old designer’s table at Catalina Morgan as they figured out what compromises would need to be made in order to create a space where two people could sleep side by side without crawling over one another. For so many couples, the crawling thing is just a deal breaker. And as one gets older and trips to the head in the wee hours become more the norm than the exception, sleeping together on a boat becomes just too difficult. The romance aboard a boat where one partner is squashed into a curved hull is, believe it, short lived. Hats off to Catalina Morgan for this aft cabin design.

Ta Da!

Obviously, this bed layout works best in quiet water. If you are in a rolly anchorage this bed is not going to work for two. Maybe not even for one. But a real strength on this boat is the number of other berths available, two of them being the settees in the saloon, which are in the center of the boat. So there are some choices here and choices are high on my list of ‘must haves’ in terms of sleeping arrangements on board. This boat is a coastal cruiser, and in the Pacific Northwest there are almost unlimited choices of quiet anchorages where this cabin would be absolutely a dream. I have it on good authority that a person will sleep like a small child in this bed.

One aspect of this cabin I would want to be sure to keep an eye on is that opening hatch at the head of the bed. Although I do love me an opening hatch of almost any kind, at that angle, I’d be concerned about leaks over time. According to the owner, it’s not an issue on this boat. And, in fact, it was a rainy day when I first viewed the boat and I didn’t see leaks anywhere. If you want to see leaks, walk on down the dock to Galapagos. We have a couple of leaks you can take a look at, in case you’re interested. Squirrel is a dry boat. Galapagos used to be dry. Then we sailed her long and hard. Now she needs work. Even though this is a 1993 boat, she feels much newer.

An entire hanging locker for each person. A whole locker!! Plus shelves with a great number of good sized baskets. On. EACH SIDE! (I’M LOOKING At YOU, GALAPAGOS.)

As though the centerline queen wasn’t enough of a calling card, this cabin also has a lot of storage on either side of the bed. In fact, if Galapagos will pardon my saying so, at 47 feet long, she has way less storage in the aft cabin than this 38 foot boat. Way. Less. It’s almost as though Ted Brewer didn’t think anyone sailing our boat would actually be wearing clothes. Perhaps it’s because the boats were built in sunny, warm Greece where clothing might be optional. But whatever the reason, it’s a very real shortcoming aboard our boat and that was brought into stark focus in this aft cabin on Squirrel. I’m fine with not having the centerline queen, because frankly we probably wouldn’t get to enjoy that most of the places we go. But all that storage just made me dead envious.

A lot of attention and space was given over to the ensuite head for the aft cabin.  There is a  separate shower area as well as the same sleek and easy to clean look as the forward head. This head can be accessed from the main cabin, walking through the shower area. We also have a walk-through shower on board, but this one is nicer. I can’t believe this, but I failed to get a photo of the aft head. I was too distracted by all the storage in the aft cabin, I think; still struggling with feelings of resentment toward Ted Brewer and his naked sailors in Greece.

When viewing this boat, it’s important to remember (for me) that this is a coastal cruiser. If I were looking for a boat to take sailing down to Mexico, across to Hawaii,  and beyond, I probably would not choose this boat for a number of reasons. However, if I wanted to explore the Salish Sea, or even go as far as Alaska? I would absolutely be interested. None of the drawbacks I noted would be deal breakers under the right conditions. And the living quality on board is stunning for a 38 foot boat. Honestly, I’m wondering why more of these were not built.

If you are in the market for a boat this size, I hope you already have your financial ducks in a row and your surveyors lined up (because you would not buy any boat without surveying everything, would you?). I would not be at all surprised if there is an offer on her by the time I hit ‘publish’ on this post.

This is also a great boat name. Imagine saying, “Squirrel Squirrel Squirrel” over the radio.

Our New Parking Brake

The list of items and projects to be bought or completed seems to only grow longer as we race to cut the dock lines this summer. Melissa and I seem to be working feverishly on about a dozen projects all while living on the boat and working full time.  So when we do get an item ticked off our list, it is worth celebrating.

Bill and Donna on sv Denali Rose bought a 99 pound Spade anchor for their Nauticat 43. Their New Best Bower Post was timely and inspired yet more googling.  The Spade is a great anchor and at 99 pounds, will surely keep their boat safe in the worst conditions. I had been considering the spade anchor, among others, and had almost made up my mind about buying one when we did our annual trip to the Seattle Boat Show. A new best bower for Galapagos was at the top of our list.

Usually at the boat show you have the opportunity to hear the sales patter from several different manufacturers and this year, we looked at the Mantus, Excel and Rocna anchors. I had done my due diligence research on line and had seen that anchors, like religion, all have their followers. In the end, the consensus seems to be that pretty much any of the new fangled anchors out there are good but there isn’t one particular anchor that is best in every single situation. Melissa’s brain trust group, Women Who Sail, splits about evenly between Rocna and Mantus in terms of anchor love.

For those readers not familiar with the term ‘Boat Buck’, that means $1000.  Both the Rocna and the Spade would cost us about 1 boat buck, more or less, for the size we need for Galapagos. At the boat show we saw another very nice anchor, the Excel.  It was going to cost us, again, a bit more than one boat buck. And anchor is not something where you want to just go with the low bid, but that’s a lot of money. And again, all of the new anchors get good reviews.

So, what did we buy?

The Mantus anchor comes in three parts but in one really heavy box.

The 40 kilo (88 pound) Mantus anchor above was shipped to our marina in less than a week and cost us less than $600 with shipping. That was about half the price of the very nice Excel anchor we saw or a Spade.

Everything laid out and ready to assemble. Small packs of Lanolin are also provided to smear onto the bolts.

The assembly was quite easy with everything provided and a one page set of instructions.  Small Packets of Lanolin are used to coat the bolts prior to assembly.  The use of nuts and bolts to connect the shank and roll bar to the fluke was a concern to me as it has been to many folks considering anchors that can be disassembled.  Given the robustness of the bolts provided and the use of common sense to check them periodically, I think the fact that the anchor can be taken apart and stowed more easily can be an advantage. Using bolts to put an anchor together is a bit counter-intuitive, but the way the load is distributed on the anchor relieves that concern. Losing the bolts is not an issue that has been a problem for any of these kinds of anchors.   Mantus could add some peace of mind to the system by drilling the bolts to accept a pin or seizing wire, like the Spade .

The 30 kilo Bruce being usurped by the new Mantus. The difference in surface area is impressive.

As far as I can tell, any of the new style anchors will be superior to the older CQR or Bruce anchors we now carry.  We have been using a 30 kilo Bruce for the last two years of Salish Sea cruising and it has held well in winds up to 30 knots.  But as we travel further afield, we need to know that we are secure. One of Melissa’s friends in the WWS group describes their Mantus like a parking brake. I like that.  I was tempted to go up another size to the 45 kilo Mantus but worried that handling that much weight by hand if things go pear-shaped would prove difficult. The sale’s person at Mantus did not recommend we go up to the next size.

The anchor fits well but it doesn’t leave much room for a second anchor on the port side roller.

The new anchor fits well onto the starboard roller which is the only side of our windlass with a chain gypsy.  The roll bar can be an issue for some boats but it fit well on Galapagos.  The very wide fluke does cause a problem on the bow though.  I can’t fit a second anchor on the port side roller and I would like to carry the Bruce as a backup.   At this point, I am thinking that I will stow the Bruce below with 30 feet of 3/8 inch chain and two hundred feet of rope rode.

 

There is good clearance for the anchor but no room to stow a second anchor on the bow.

I look forward to taking Galapagos out for a weekend to test our new best bower.  Melissa and I rarely take guest moorage in a marina and we love anchoring out. Knowing that you are well and truly fastened to the bottom during a blow makes for restful nights and more enjoyable time away from the boat.  We’ll keep you posted on how well this new piece of kit performs.