Episode 13 Other Boat Syndrome - Pathology and Treatment

I confess to succumbing to one of life's most pernicious pathologies - Other Boat Syndrome (OBS).

It must have had a rapid onset, occurring within a few weeks of acquiring my boat, brought on, possibly by a short episode of Buyers' Regret. Having made the diagnosis, I have come to terms with a long period of rehabilitation, which comprises a mix of Shock Therapy and a reformation of mind-habit.

OBS is not unlike BBS (Bigger Boat Syndrome); its lusts are quantifiably smaller, but the outcomes are the same. If you find yourself experiencing the following symptoms, you probably need help (the only prerequisite is that you already own a boat);

• You spend a disproportionally large amount of your on-line time browsing boat ads, or you actively contribute to forums that facilitate on-line boat-hunting.
• You find yourself drifting around the local boat club sizing your neighbours' boats, at every opportunity, especially during the time you should be sailing your own boat
• You can name the price, weight, rigging configuration and cabin layout of any boat in the same class as yours without any conscious effort
• You think your boat is the worst example in its class. Though this point might actually be true, you have already convinced yourself that the only course of action is to replace it (just as soon as your Admiral/Lord of the Treasury/Family Financier will grant you the funds)

If this is you, then I have good news. It doesn't have to be this way.

The Shock Therapy is both necessary and counter-intuitive. The necessary part requires you to part with your the Admiral's hard-earned as you fix up all the dreadful problems with your boat. For me, these mostly concerned the trailer, but when the hours are tallied up, fixing the keel proved just as expensive. Then, there was is the re-wiring and the countless small fix-ups and tinkerings. The counter-intuitive part is that these, or shocks of a similar magnitude, will probably be just as necessary in the Other Boat that you've been hankering after.

Breathe out and allow yourself to think that the Other Boat will be just the same old, slow, leaky tub as yours.

The reformation of mind-habit follows on. If the Other Boat is another slow, leaky, tub, do you really want to go through that agonising process of finding its problems, all over again? At least, with your current boat, you can say that you know where its problems lie.

I write this having taken my old, slow, leaky tub out into Moreton Bay for a race on Sunday. It performed surprisingly badly. I could not get it to point (head upwind) or maintain any speed. The winds were quite fresh (the hindcast reported 10-12 knots, but they felt more like 15) and every time a gust came through, the boat would heel (lean) over to about 40 degrees, promptly round up (stick its nose into the wind) despite my (heroic, or so I thought) efforts on the tiller. Then, it would stall and I would have to bear away and pick up speed again, only for the boat to heel, round up and stall again. I found that letting the mainsheet traveller down to leeward and bringin in the the mainsheet a little helped, because it changed the sheeting angle (the angle the sheet makes with the sail) to a more vertical setting, thus flattening the sail a little. But, there is only so much you can do with a blown-out, baggy sail.

Try as I might, I could not make the upwind leg of the course. In my defence, I was sailing against a rising tide, but the rest of the fleet managed it well enough. My tacking angle (the nearest I could sail to windward) had increased to something like 80 degrees, which made for lots of sailing east and west and hardly any progress north. The highest speed registered on my (almost dead) fish-finder was about 4 knots, which is probably an under-estimate, and well below the boat's hull speed (its design, or optimum speed) of 6 knots.

You have my permission to gasp in derision at these paltry figures. I had to turn around as the fleet passed me on the return leg, and limp back to port behind them. Which took a while because I was much slower than my handicap, even on a reach (which should be the fastest the boat will sail).

However, there were a few positives to take from this.

Firstly, I had confirmed that my the leak in my leaky keel bolt had almost gone. The boat took on less than half a litre of water over five hours in the water, and I could probably reduce the leak further by tightening the nut. (As described in Episode 12, the bolt is not bonded to the epoxy that now encases it in the keelbox, so a bit of tightening will probably do the trick, plus another dollop of Sikaflex, if necessary.)

Secondly, I had met with a Sailmaker the day before, with the intent of replacing my sails and standing rigging. I'll report on this further as the situation develops, but my boat's performance on the bay was typical of old, blown out sails. That is not surprising, because the youngest sail is my main (2007), but it is showing a pronounced fold at the front edge of its battens, and my foresails (especially the rust-marked old jib that I had up on Sunday) are goodness-knows-how-old. Add to that, I have a wire luff and profoundly soft standing rigging. There is no adjustment left in the standing rigging or, not enough to get it guitar-string tight, so it probably needs to go, too. My boat is in need of an overhaul above-decks, and that is why I called the Sailmaker. The condition laid on the approval of funds by the Admiral was that the leaky keel bolt had been fixed, and in that respect, my Sunday outing proved to be a success.

This latest episode in the long saga of throwing-money-into-a-hole-in-the-water gave me pause to think about my OBS. I believe it has helped me come to terms with it, which should content my soul a little more, and test the Admiral's patience a little less.

Upon reflection, I have come to the realisation that most boat ads focus on the obvious - the size of the boat, the number of people it can sleep (if you don't mind sleeping in a ménage à trois à plus) and how nice the paint looks.

Few, if any, ads speak about the state of the sails and the standing rigging. The standing rigging on trailer sailers takes some remarkable abuse because it is regularly dismounted and re-erected, with plenty of scope to get it out of tune, and to wear out the adjusting threads and nuts. The sails, likewise, have to suffer all sorts of inexpert flaking, unrolling and general neglect. Given that the state of the rigging and sails is the biggest factor in how well, or badly, the boat sails, a little inexperience on your part could leave you vulnerable to a prolonged bout of OBS upon the purchase of your first boat.

Where this might help mitigate your OBS is the realisation that boat ads usually demur from sails and rigging for a reason. The spacious-looking, shiny boat that you've feasted your eyes on might actually handle like a bucket of lard because of the state of things above-deck, and the owner is hardly likely to broadcast the fact.

On the other hand, you could get it for a knock-down price and spend the money you've saved on a new wardrobe for your new boat.

Oops, my OBS just kicked in again.