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.

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.

 

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.

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.

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.

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. 

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.