Finally! After all the work we completed in the first 6 months of 2017, we relished the opportunity to stretch our legs over a couple of months of cruising and really see what we had. Our original plan was to spend our first week in the Gulf Islands to test our new systems and get familiar with them before setting off north for more ambitious destinations; we thought that the comfort of knowing that we’d always be close to help and supplies would take the edge off. However, after a fun and relaxing first weekend near Silva Bay, we decided to head north to cruise with friends using the logic that everything seemed to be working fine so far and that Desolation Sound isn’t really that far from assistance if we ran into a problem.
Our first real test came on our 4th day out on the passage from Silva Bay to Pender Harbour. This is a 33nm run to the north, and can be a challenge in a strong northwesterly – the prevailing wind here in the summer. It was in blowing in the low to mid 20’s on this day, and Georgia Strait was in a bit of a mood with a steep 3′ chop. Period is everything when it comes to waves, and Georgia Strait is notorious for generating waves with a short period. It was 4 seconds on this day – short, steep and wet. Perfect weather for learning!
We got our first “new boat” lesson when we went to put up the main. The halyard on the Sabre is wire, and it has considerable mass. As soon as I attached it to the headboard of the main, it started to flap all over the place, and in short order, had wrapped itself around the steaming light. With the boat bouncing and the spray flying, I gave up trying to free it pretty quick. The day would be a headsail only affair! The lesson? Put the main up before it’s too rough.
Turns out we didn’t need the main anyways. With the 130 genoa all the way out, we took off like a freight train – doing up to 7 knots at 40 degrees apparent, straight through the waves. Fast, fun and wet. We could’ve pointed higher with some main up, but the wind built and eventually we had to reef the 130 down, so perhaps having the main up would’ve been too much. Regardless, the speed and comfort in difficult conditions were impressive.
We got our second lesson soon after setting sail. However, this one was more of a reminder of something we already should’ve learned: make sure the hatches are dogged BEFORE setting sail. Not long after settling into the groove, we took green water over the deck. A good portion made it over the dodger and right into the cockpit. A short while later, it happened again. Wondering about the integrity of all of the window seals etc, I asked Lori to see if it was dry below. It was not. Just as she descended into the cabin, we went through yet another wave; the cascade of water down the fore-hatch was clear evidence that it was not dogged down tight. Oops…The lesson here is embarrassingly obvious.
We learned our third lesson after docking in Pender Harbour : it’s probably a mistake to ignore a leaking fuel tank. (Yes, I know the “bad things happen in 3’s” thing is a cliché, but it really was the 3rd and final major lesson for the summer.)
We’d discovered the leak a few months earlier, but decided to ignore it as it was only leaking a teaspoon or so every week. We put an oil sock in the bilge and a pad under the tank and moved on. The rough crossing disabused us of this notion.
Soon after docking, I checked the bilge only to find the pad and sock quite heavy with diesel. We debated leaving it, but decided it was now too much to ignore. The next day, I emptied the tank and pulled it out. Upon inspection, it was clear that the hole had always been of a significant size, but had been partially blocked with diesel sludge. The agitation from the rough sail changed all that and turned the small drip into a cascade. Although a new tank is on this winter’s boat job list, I’m happy to report that the temporary patch I put on at the beginning of July is still drip free; JB Weld is amazing stuff.
The rest of the summer was relatively uneventful. The 2 systems that I was most concerned about both worked well: we put 180 happy hours on our new diesel with no significant problems, and the electrical system worked as designed, with full batteries every day thanks to our new solar system. I’m also happy to report that by August, I was spending almost no time doing maintenance or improvements; things just worked!
Some thoughts on the Sabre 42 and some comparisons to our Mariner 36
Overall, we are very happy with her; she’s roomy, fast, and comfortable. The cockpit is wonderful for entertaining, and has plenty of places to brace yourself when it gets rough out. We weren’t sure how we’d like the sail plan with it’s relatively small head sail and large main, but we’ve found the boat easy to sail and the smaller foresail an asset when beating to weather. Down below, plenty of hand holds make getting around fairly easy, and the large galley is a delight to work in.
- With the main up and centerboard down, she’ll point quite high and makes very little leeway. We raced her in June, and were pointing as high as our friend’s C&C 33 – around 30 degrees apparent.
- Our trip across Georgia Strait was fast but wet. She tended to sail through the larger waves (6′) without slowing down. This is partially a product of the shape of the chop in Georgia Strait. A 3′ significant wave height means we saw the odd 6′ wave. All of them had a 4 second period. These are steep waves that didn’t really allow the boat to rise to them. We’ve only really had this one day of beating into strong winds and we looking forward getting out in the strong stuff again to learn more.
- When going downwind under all whites, her best VMG is dead downwind, even in fairly light winds. We’ve rigged permanent preventers, so sailing deep is pretty stress free. In really light winds, we still tack downwind flying the asymmetrical spinnaker, but we seemed to need this extra power less often than we did with the Mariner. In heavy winds, her longish keel means that she tracks quite well. In contrast, the Mariner sailed so much faster on a reach that we often tacked downwind in light to medium winds.
- There are genoa tracks and cars on the toe rail; moving the sheets outboard for downwind work dramatically improves sail shape and provides chafe free leads. We tried all kinds of things to achieve this on the Mariner; none of our efforts were as satisfactory as the outboard leads on the Sabre.
- She stands up to a breeze, despite the fact that the keel is only 5′ deep.
- The helm is super light. After 13 years of sailing with an unbalanced rudder hung off a skeg, our new spade is almost too light. On the bright side, it’s not tiring and the autopilot doesn’t really ever work that hard.
- We replaced the Westerbeke 46 with a Beta 50. At 2000 RPM, she’ll do 7 kts on roughly 3 litres/hour (just under a gallon). Max RPM is 2800. This efficiency is similar to the Mariner, which is fantastic considering the Sabre is 6′ longer and 2000 lbs heavier.
- She doesn’t pound when sailing to weather, but does when motoring, especially when compared to the Mariner with her v sections forward of the keel. Bottom line; she’s designed to sail, not motor.
- The cockpit is super quiet! The motor is under the sink, not the cockpit, making conversation under way a pleasant, no shouting, affair. As an added bonus, the noise below is about the same as the Mariner.
- She turns in her length, and backs up fairly straight. I was worried that the distance between the prop and the rudder would mean that slow, close quarters maneuvering would be difficult, but this hasn’t been the case.
- The quality of the glasswork is excellent, even in out of the way corners.
- Access to almost everything is good. The diesel tank was a piece of cake to remove and reinstall.
- Cabin stowage is good, but for my tastes, the cabin could’ve been a little smaller and the storage behind the settees bigger.
- Cockpit storage is excellent. The two lazarette hatches provide access to a massive space that holds our cabin heater, fenders, paddle boards, fishing gear, stern line, dinghy wheels, and dinghy pumps. The sail locker is equally impressive.
- The side decks are like runways, and provide excellent access to the foredeck.
- The original install for the windlass was problematic. The biggest issue was that the windlass didn’t drop the chain into the anchor locker; the previous owner actually hand bombed the anchor down when setting it, and peeled it off of the gypsy and flaked it by hand when weighing anchor. I’ve since installed a new windlass and provided a lead for it to drop into the anchor by itself.
- The bilge sucks. There is a reasonably deep but small sump aft of the engine, but otherwise the bottom is flat. I didn’t like it when we bought her, and I still don’t like it. Unfortunately, most modern boats are built the same way. The Mariner had a keel stub that would hold a significant amount of water and prevent it from sloshing around under the cabin sole. Yes, I know the bilge should be dry, but that is pretty much impossible with a keel stepped mast.
- The cabin top winches, clutches and cleats are just silly. Not only are they toe killers and tripping hazards, their location means that it takes 2 on the deck to take down the asymmetrical spinnaker. With 2 of us on board, that means nobody is in the cockpit. This is getting fixed this winter.
- The anchor locker divider is also silly. The top edge of the plywood divider is exposed to falling chain and moisture meaning that it will eventually rot out. We took ours out and replaced it with a shelf.
Our Summer Route:
This year we were focused on learning the boat, so stuck mostly to places we’ve been before. Most of the pictures are from the area north of Bella Bella – our favourite stretch of the BC coast. Our route took us north around Cape Caution, up past Bella Bella and Klemtu via the Inside Passage, and finally up Laredo Channel to Campania Island. Our route south was similar, but we stuck to more open waters on the outside wherever possible to take advantage of the strong north westerlies that established themselves early in August. Our best sail was a 45 nm run down Laredo Sound into Hecate Strait, around McInnes Island and into Queens Sound.