In the upper left corner of this page is a search window. If you type in Doryman's Melonseed design, you will find, as I did, that this project started in December of 2011. How could that be? Four and a half years. Well, I guess you know how fate has befallen this sailor.
Take heart my patient reader, for the long awaited sail-rig has evolved to the test stage. We already know how Aria rows. Like a song.
Martin and I chose a calm day for our first sail. Turned out to be breathless, but we had enough puffs to get a feel for how this 'seed flies.
It was apparent from the first, the free-footed sail needs a boom for windward work. The fixed keel shape, taken from Atkin's Valgerda allowed quite a bit of leeway, but I think that will improve with a boom as well. I intend to leave the foot loose, lash the sail to the boom at the tack and clew and use a downhaul from the clew to the base of the mast.
If this sounds confusing, we'll come back soon with photos and an updated report.
She fits well on her second-hand trailer, pretty as a melonseed.
Thank you, Scott, Jason, Brandon and Ellie!
Ready for a sea trial as soon as a busy Doryman gets a free day. But what to name her? I'm stumped. Since she is a duck-hunting design, something along that line seems appropriate.
What do you think?...
A late afternoon fitting of the rigging.
So far, so good.
For a few days recently, the weather here on the Oregon coast was simply fabulous. But apparently the monsoons have returned and along with them, an under-the-weather Doryman. Not feeling too spry today.
The fine weather gave me the opportunity to cultivate the garden plot and dream of fresh vegetables. There are quite a few plants that wintered-over and spring seems to have a big head-start. Anyone who loves the sea and also enjoys raising a garden will instantly realise the conflict here.
Warm temperatures also facilitated putting finishing touches on the Doryman Melonseed. The roof of the porch where this boat is being built is made of a greenhouse material, so it's a joy to now sit in this solar heated space and contemplate the beauty of this little vessel.
Next the melonseed will need a trailer. When we launched this boat, just before the decks were installed, the trailer was from another boat. So, one more hurdle before true sea-trials, but I expect to discover this will be a great sail-and-oar boat. The thwarts are removable to maximize use of a nine foot-long cockpit. They are also spaced for two rowers, so an extra rowing station can be configured, if required.
Ready to head out the door.
The view during afternoon tea on the back porch. You would think I'm tired of this view, having looked at it for hours on end, but no.
Many thanks to those who offered advice in the design stages and encouragement with support along the way. Truly, this has been a community effort. I would especially like to thank Barry Long, Mike Wick, Dave Lucas, Brandon Ford, Jim Ballou, Marty Loken and most important of all, Mary McCall.
Winter temperatures here on the Oregon coast have been uncharacteristically cold recently. Nothing slows boat building as much as cold temperatures. Although, those who are familiar with Doryman know, the design process never stops.
I've been fitting the decks on the melonseed (finally). For a few weeks, the process of putting finishes on the interior was a test of patience. You all know I'm not famous for having patience. But it had to be done. Some compartments are impossible to finish once the decks are on, in fact finishing the inside of a boat is much easier all-around before the decks are laid. There once was a day when I would impatiently power through the building process and leave the finishes to the end, which is self-defeating, to put it succinctly.
Waiting for paint and adhesives to dry is a good time to review and update designs. Then you can always say you are working, even though it looks like you are watching the paint dry.
Sometimes an idea that has been incubating for a long time suddenly seems to augment. Such is the case with this melonseed. You may remember, the modern recreational melonseed is an adaptation from the Jersey Skiff, an east coast of North America duck hunting boat of the nineteenth century. It has proven to be an adaptable and seaworthy design.
The Boat Bits web-log recently brought to my attention a coastal cruising design from Gilles Montaubin, L'Etroit Mousquetaire. Please note the similarities in the hull shape between my melonseed and this attractive minimalist cruiser.
Quite a coincidence? Perhaps, but more likely it's just one of those ideas that works. The coincidence is that for the last few months, I have imagined my little sailing dinghy as a larger boat with a cuddy cabin. And here it is, from the pen of Monsieur Montaubin!
I'm going to step right out on the limb now and say... why build one of the recently popular slab-sided cruisers when, for the same money and effort you can have a simple, elegant design like this?
This new design prototype was last winter's indoor project and will be continued in a few months. With all the boats shuffling around out in the boatyard, an empty trailer happened to be standing by.
I called Brandon, asking if he would like to help me float test the unfinished boat... barely got the words out of my mouth...
Brandon refers to Beaver Creek, where it empties into the Pacific Ocean as the Beaver Creek Test Facility. It's only a couple miles down the road, has a very nice, little used small boat ramp and is sheltered from the ocean winds. Two winters ago we tested my rowing shell there and you all know how memorable that was, as Doryman took a dunking.
This Melonseed is a new design but is not experimental. The Jersey Skiff duck hunting boat has been around for a long time. In fact Howard Chapelle drew lines for his famous Melonseed half a century ago and kicked off a whole new generation of duck boats as racing skiffs. Many modern designers have recreated this boat. It has been built carvel planked, lapstrake, strip planked, stitch-and-glue and cold-molded.
But never before has it been conceived in the wide seven plank method of the old Norse, until now.
The bottom is a flat wherry keel, symmetrically double-ended and about a
foot wide amidships. The next plank is wide and brings the hull up past
the waterline. The wherry bottom and the garboard panels are joined
with a flush-matched chine. The topsides are comprised of two planks which are lapped, clinker style.
It seemed wise to give the hull a test before finishing off the decks and I wish to report, this is one very fine boat. It moves very efficiently, tracks well and has plenty of reserve buoyancy. Brandon and I each made a test run and made notes about relative trim as we moved weight fore and aft. With no ballast and only one person, the boat was very stable. As you can see from the video, just a light pull from a paddle moves her right along. Brandon had to move to the fore of the cockpit to get the bow to sink, which means there is plenty of fullness forward that will come in handy while sailing.
Right now, there is a lot going on in the boatyard, but as the winter monsoons come on, it will be back to work on the Doryman Melonseed. Can't wait to sail this little skiff. I'm working out the final details for new plans so if you think you'd like to build one of these, please, send me a note.
Here's a quick video that might help with your decision:
It's been a bit chaotic around here, something that is not suppose to happen for two more months. The malignant winter weather has turned unpredictable. What is worse, knowing the weather is against you, or wondering if it is?
Progress has been made on the Doryman Melonseed, however. The boat is now turned upside down to install a fixed keel.
You heard right, a fixed keel.
The plans still call for a centerboard, but when I looked at the open interior of this gunkholer, it was too pristine to spoil. We'll see how this works, and if it does, so much better. Imagine a nine foot long unobstructed cockpit in a sixteen foot boat. A melonseed should draw about 4-5 inches and is meant to traverse very shallow water in a river delta. This boat will draft close to one foot, so floating in marsh grass is not on the agenda, but most days, one foot of draft is good, in fact, very good.
