This bluewater cruiser inspires confidence
Issue 33 : Nov/Dec 2003
Imagine you’re sitting ringside at a boxing arena. The announcer is decked out in a black tuxedo, his head covered by a mane of gray locks. His jacket sleeves taper to reveal French cuffs and diamond cuff links as he speaks into a microphone held in manicured fingertips. Pointing to his left, he begins.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, in this corner — wearing a fiberglass exterior and racing interior — we have the Cape Fear 38, a recently introduced hot rod, designed by Bruce Marek, one of the country’s most prominent sailboat designers. Displacing only 11,000 pounds, she competes in the light-weight division.
“And in the opposite corner, from the heavyweight division, the Cape George 38, a queen of the seas displacing 36,000 pounds. A true bluewater cruiser, she was designed out of Ed Monk’s office. She wears a fiberglass exterior accented by teak decks and pampers crews in a warm environment surrounded by mahogany and teak.
“Captains! Slip your docklines!”
Of course, we all know that act will never play in Madison Square Garden, but you get the point: except for the fact that they float, contemporary cruisers coming off the production lines of the major manufacturers bear little resemblance to traditional cruisers we grew up with in the 1960s and 1970s. Fiberglass hulls and teak decks have been replaced by lighter composites, a result of efforts to reduce the cost of raw materials and labor costs. Interiors look more like those in RVs than boats. And the full keel has gone the way of the Model T.
So, in addition to stepping aboard a proper yacht, settling into the cockpit of Tim Whelan’s Patience, Cape George 38 hull No. 1, was akin to taking a step onto a luxury liner. She didn’t tremble at my additional weight. Shrouds provided a solid handhold, and cockpit backrests supported the shoulder blades. She’s clearly the product of an era when sailing couples’ tastes ran to overnight voyages and their vessels were not dockside entertainment centers.
How it began
Cape George yachts were constructed by a small firm that specialized in the production of small numbers of quality yachts — a stark contrast to Asian counterpart companies, which were flooding the market with look-alike sailboats pirated from the plans of many prominent designers.
The energy behind the design and introduction of the Cape George sailboats was provided by Cecil M. Lange, an expatriate Kiwi who landed in the U.S. in the mid-1960s. He launched the boatbuilding operation in Everett, Washington, later moving it to its final address near Port Townsend in 1975. Cecil’s sons, Brian and Bob, subsequently trekked to the States and joined their dad in the operation for stints of varying lengths.
Cecil was assisted by Larry Alexander and his wife, Margaret, in constructing the molds for the Cape George 38. Larry took possession of hull No. 1 and completed the interior, which continues to be of museum quality. Cecil took hull No. 2.
Larry says, “Cecil had a reputation not only for building fine yachts, but also for loving the enterprise. The whole clan — Cecil’s father and grandfather, too — were boatbuilders in New Zealand. Cecil and his two sons are awesome: real boatbuilders as in grandpa’s time.
“Cecil fell in love with Atkin’s 34- foot Tally Ho Major,” he recalls. “He had Ed Monk Sr. slightly modernize the lines and lengthen the plan to 36 feet, producing the Cape George 36. That was the boat that really made the company.”
Cecil eventually succumbed to multiple-foot-itis, and introduced 31-, 40-, 38-, and 34-footers, most having an Atkin look above the water but different underbodies, though all were constructed with full keels. Larry says, “I think John Anderson actually was the designer, and I’m not sure how much he was at Ed Monk’s at the time. Although he worked for Ed Monk, later he was on his own. I can’t say for sure when all those dates were.
“The bottom on the 36 is very wineglass and forgiving,” Larry adds . “It is fast with an easy motion but will roll more when running down the trades. The 38’s underbody is flatter — more like a Herreshoff — and rolls less, but it has a bit more bumpy ride. The 34 was a cross between the two.”
Interestingly, Cecil constructed 250 to 300 hulls of various sizes, but he completed only about 65 or 70, as Larry recalls. The balance were sold as bare hulls or partially completed boats for completion by owners, many of whom possessed only rudimentary carpentry skills.
“Some rented space and built them in the yard,” Larry says. “One of the finished versions is almost a Chinese junk,” he adds. Another “was two stories high and tipped over when launched. It was named Rock Bottom, because it had rocks for ballast.”
In appearance
The Lange-Atkin-Monk design produced shapes defined by high bulwarks, broad decks, squarish cabins, rounded ends and cockpits, and spacious living areas. Interiors were customized to reflect the tastes of individual owners.
The entry of the 38-footer is moderate, with slightly flared topsides that make for a fairly dry ride, unless she’s beating to weather in stiff breezes and the skipper hasn’t bothered to shorten sail. Then, like any boat, she’s wet, and the wheel is a handful.
In profile she presents an attractive, relatively flat sheer complementing an 11-foot 7-inch beam that is carried well aft, adding to volume belowdecks and the cruisability factor. Her waterline length is 32 feet 6 inches, which translates to a length-to-beam ratio of 2.8; most designers consider a factor of 3 to be a speedy shape.
Most of the Cape George models were designed with a shallow draft; the 38 draws only 5 feet 3 inches. On a lighter boat, that could translate to tippiness and discomfort, but she’s stable. Her full keel and deep rudder produce effective tracking, making life easier for a windvane when cruising offshore.
However, these boats provide plenty of excitement and dockside entertainment when backing out of a slip. A non-responsive rudder coupled with wind on the beam and a windvane hanging off the stern may produce a totally unpredictable situation. I’ve been there and know that a helmsman can only hope for a soft landing.
Deck layout
Offshore cruisers tell stories of going days between tacks or jibes, making sailhandling in tropical breezes a minor consideration when selecting a boat. These days, however, with sailors finding less time even for overnighters, the ability to hoist, douse, and trim sails effortlessly during a daysail becomes more important. Though most of Cecil Lange’s sailboats were originally rigged with hanked-on headsails and winches on the mast, many have been retrofitted with furlers and lines led aft to sheetstoppers.
The rig on Patience carries a single set of spreaders, with shrouds led to the rail, and genoa track running from amidships to the cockpit. Bulwarks are of 1 1⁄2-inch-thick wood epoxied and bolted to the hull, producing a 2-inch-thick section. A long stainless-steel plate was bedded into the bulwarks to provide a home for shrouds, avoiding the pitfalls of leaks and rust stains when plates are bolted through the hull.
Like most, Patience was cutter-rigged with a bowsprit providing a home for a roller furler. The ’sprit adds a salty element to her appearance. More importantly, it moves the center of effort forward and increases her sail-carrying flexibility.
The double-led mainsheet runs through a double block on the boom end to turning blocks port and starboard aft of the helm station so the skipper and crew can easily trim the main in a cockpit devoid of clutter.
Her cockpit is spacious, large enough for 6 to 8 adults, while most likely being small enough that filling it with water won’t result in a sinking. Of course, securing companionway hatchboards in heavy seas also is a good idea.
Curved seats are 20 inches wide with 10-inch-high backrests canted outward to provide lumbar support. These seats are long enough to stretch out on when sleeping under the stars in the tropics. Centerline length in the footwell is 68 inches, and the well is 15 inches deep with 37 inches of clearance, providing legroom for passengers sitting across from each other. Underway, visibility forward is excellent (see photo at left).
As you might expect, the cockpit has a storage area comparable to the back end of a soccer van in a cavity that spans the stern. Tim Whelan finds space for crab pots, a vast array of buckets, and a life raft there. The double-rail stainless-steel stern pulpit adds room for a BBQ, outboard motor, spare anchor, and other items these appurtenances tend to attract.
A real plus is a bridge deck on both sides of the companionway that is large enough to spread a full-sized chart while being protected by a dodger.
Forward, space on the cabintop between handrails is 76 inches by 78 inches, plenty large enough for a life raft, hard dinghy, or inflatable. That’s a far better arrangement than suspending a dinghy from davits.
Two hatches, prismatic windows bedded in the deck, and ports along the cabin sides provide ventilation while in the humid parts of the planet and light at night. Solar-powered vents are a worthwhile addition.
Belowdecks
Varying descriptions of Cape George 38 layouts are not the products of muddled minds (or poor reporting), but rather a reflection of the owners’ tendency to design spaces to their individual tastes. Cecil Lange, “being a product of the past,” as Larry says, “tended to build traditional interiors with a settee on each side and a table in the middle.” In comparison, Patience has a huge wrap-around table, a settee to port, an enormous chart table complete with several storage drawers, a large berth in the bow, and a walk-in engine room.
Regardless of the final arrangement, these boats were designed for bluewater work, so odds are that the first owner placed sleeping and cooking areas and storage spaces high on the list of priorities. Weather berths provide a comfortable ride on a long passage.
The saloon on Patience measures 110 inches on the centerline with more than 6 feet of headroom and 98 inches of clearance on the beam. The interior at the hull is covered with a light-colored cedar, the cabin sole is teak and holly, and galley counters are maple. The overhead is plywood painted white with athwartship beams as finely crafted as any on a million-dollar showpiece, a testament to Larry Alexander’s craftsmanship.
There’s room for two to work in the galley, depending upon the chef’s temperament, of course. An 80-inch long counter that’s 20 inches deep, including a cover on the stovetop, provides elbow room. An abundance of storage is subdivided into functionally-sized compartments.
A clotheslocker/vanity/hanging locker combination located amidships to port provides storage for wet and dry clothing that is close at hand.
The engine compartment on Patience is comparable to what you might expect on a trawler. Although for sailors there’s a certain level of savoir faire implied in being able to change oil and filters while lying in a hot area with a beam cutting off the flow of blood in the shoulders and sweat running in the eyes, it’s no fun. And, on
Patience at least, it’s unnecessary. Patience’s well-lit engine compartment is filled with engine, inverter, two large batteries, and fuel for the generator. And it still has unused space large enough for a family reunion. One could argue that this excess of space comes at the expense of living or sleeping quarters; the corollary is that large social spaces may attract a surfeit of guests. In Patience’s case the walk-in engine room is possible at the expense of one quarter berth.
Construction
Most of Cecil Lange’s hulls were built at a spot in the forest near Cape George, thus the name. His methods were typical of the era, with hulls constructed of solid fiberglass. Laminations consisted of layers of mat, fibercloth, and longitudinal rovings, some in 3-foot widths which contribute to strength throughout and reinforcement in the keel area. Bilge stringers were constructed of 2-inch by 8-inch Alaska cedar laminated to the hull with runs of roving.
“Some boats were insulated with 1⁄2-inch balsa not used as cores but attached to the inside of the hull and covered with fiberglass,” Larry notes. “Bulkheads were bonded to the hull with runs of mat and roving and laid and through-bolted between floor stringers.” Though few in number, minor blistering problems were encountered; Larry recalls that Cecil eventually began “mixing 20-percent vinylester in the resin” to avoid osmosis.
Cabins and decks were constructed of Bruynzeel plywood decking, a marine product approved by Lloyd’s, that was laid on the beams and secured with glue and copper nails. The cabin sides are solid 1 3⁄8-inch Port Orford cedar. Teak decks laid over the plywood were 5⁄8 inches thick. All were built to Lloyd’s specifications.
Performance
Now that we have a traditionally designed, well-built bluewater cruiser sitting at a dock, what’s to do but go sailing? We sailed Patience in 4 to 6 knots of wind under the shadow of the Space Needle in Seattle, flying only a mainsail and 100-percent jib. It was unlikely anything short of a 180-percent drifter would have improved her performance, so the staysail remained under its canvas.
In these conditions, we managed to eke out 2 to 4 knots of boatspeed sailing on what could loosely be described as a beat . . . about the performance I’d expect from a heavyweight.
Tim said, “The boat is OK in these conditions until it gets choppy.” At that point, he noted, she’ll take one big step forward and one small step backward, ideal conditions for family sailing with the co-skipper and two young crew members. “I think she is at her best in 15 knots of wind,” he said, “when she’ll sail at 5 to 6 knots.”
Later, given an opportunity to ponder her sailing characteristics, Tim added, “I think I probably miscommunicated her light-air capabilities. Unless we are going on a daysail, I generally only sail if there is more than 15 knots of wind. This is because that gives us 4.5 to 6.0 knots under sail. Despite the boat’s name, I am usually not patient enough (or enough of a purist) to sail at 2 to 4 knots. So, while the boat does OK in lighter air, the skipper does not.”
That’s not America’s Cup performance, but it is typical of pre-1990, heavy displacement designs. It has been argued that fast is safe, because of the ability to outrun trouble on the horizon. The corollary is that a heavy, full-keeled boat will be more mannerly in a blow than a lightweight. Both arguments have their merit.
If Tim’s current plans come to pass, he and the family will be sailing in San Francisco next summer, while the rest of us slave away at our daily tasks. The following summer, they’ll be somewhere in Mexico. After that?
“We’re not sure,” he says, but it doesn’t take a crystal ball to read his thoughts. Patience has already traveled to Hawaii once and Alaska three times with Larry and Margaret Alexander. I’d guess that the Cape George 38 will deliver the Whelan family safely to whichever point of the compass they choose.
Except, of course, to Madison Square Garden.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
