Trial Sailing

The Nor'Sea 27

By Wayne Carpenter

Note this is a Pacific Skipper March 1977 reprint

As with most sailors, I have been reading sailing magazines ever since I first wanted to know what a sail was. Because of that I have read countless "test sail reports." To this day, I have never been able to quite figure out how a test sail is conducted and have come to the conclusion that a test sail report is nothing more than the opinion -- the highly personal opinion -- of the person who happened to have sailed that particular yacht.

Oh, there are some standard procedures you can put a boat through. How well does she go to weather? How does she lie to her anchor? Does she roll excessively going downwind? How well is the interior planned? Is the rig easily handled?

The list goes on and on and on. In short, there seems to be no way to put a sailboat through a test sail in the same manner a new breed of automobile can be put through its paces. That's because, as with each sailor, each boat design is highly individualistic. It is a living, breathing entity with a personality of its own that really cannot be duplicated. This is even true to a large degree with identical boats produced from the same mold. They all are different. It is as simple as that.

I wasn't certain how the best way would be to go about test sailing the Nor'Sea 27. At first I attempted to draw up a list of specific criteria...tried to be scientific about the whole thing. I frustrated myself until I finally decided that the ocean was anything but scientific and that the best way to go about the whole deal would be to put my family and I aboard the little yacht and sail her for a weekend under as close to cruising conditions as possible.

I made arrangements with Dean Wixom, president of Heritage Marine, Inc., to take the boat to Catalina for the weekend. On board went myself, my wife, Kristina, and my 13 and 14-year-old daughters, Jennifer and Lisa. Between us there was more than 80,000 miles of cruising experience that included three ocean crossings under every sailing condition possible save a full-blown hurricane.

The conclusion at the end of the weekend? The Nor'Sea 27 is everything she's represented to be. And I'll admit that I am the most surprised at that statement.

Let's face it. This is a little yacht...27 feet long with an 8-foot beam, designed to be trailer transportable. When I first read the claims that this yacht also was meant to cross oceans, I was skeptical. I no longer am skeptical, at least about her sailing ability and ocean crossing ability. I can't vouch for her trailer transportability, but since she seems to have lived up to all her other claims, I'll have to accept that one at face value.

At any rate, I went aboard the Nor'Sea 27 loaded with skepticism. I did so because I am fatigued beyond belief with the number of claims made by yacht manufacturers that their boat "is positively the last word in yachting," etc. They all say the same thing, and frankly, that included Wixom.

To be blunt, I was out for blood when I tested this yacht. I was going to punch figurative holes in the boat, put it through the toughest and most critical test any boat had ever been put through.

Why?

Because I don't like outlandish claims, especially when they involve risking my and my family's life. Had Dean Wixom known my initial attitude, he would have been a fool to allow me to put even my little toe on board, much less allow me to take it for the weekend.

Well, there are some holes to be punched. But they are personal preference type holes. For instance, for extended cruising, I don't like the standard layout. It is a great layout for living aboard a couple of months at a time and week-ending, but for me, not for years-on-end cruising. But I'I1 talk about that later.

Basically, she is a yacht that is exceptionally well designed for a cruiser -- incredible would be the more appropriate word -- and wonderfully beautiful to look at. She sails like a bandit on all points (she tacks an honest-to-goodness 45 degrees without pinching), is stiff and she has the best designed topsides I have ever seen in a boat of her size. And her comfort under way is amazing.

When we bearded Hull No. 1 in Newport Harbor, we did so with the assumed attitude that we were about to set sail for Hawaii. Wixom was there to greet us. We quickly sent him on his way and got down to business.

We giggled a lot at first. She was so small compared with our beloved Merle-Rose II, in which we had spent so many years. To get her out of the slip stern-first was a snap. Just push a little here and there. Get too close to another boat, just fend off. At first I fended too hard, expecting the weighty momentum of my larger former boat. What a pleasant surprise when she slopped so easily.

On went the engine and into reverse. She backed up. She responded to the helm while making stern way, though a little slowly. Then I put the engine in forward, reversed the helm and the bow fell off and pointed in the direction we wanted to go.

The engine was well insulated and reasonably quiet. You could talk in the cockpit with the thing running, something I couldn't do on my last boat, hence I was impressed. I had Lisa and Jennifer raise the sails as we were motoring out of the harbor, and they got the main up without problem, but were afraid to raise the jib because there was no pulpit on the bow of the test boat. But it was impressive to see the main go up as easily as it did in the hands of these two young girls.

I would have preferred more wind when we finally got outside the harbor and headed for Catalina. About 10 knots was the best it blew, but it was enough to kick us right along at better than 5 knots using the standard working jib.

A light chop accompanied an extremely light swell. She went right through it as if she were on a lake with a gentle, very heavy feel. And that was our biggest surprise. I could never understand how this 7,000-pound boat could feel like a boat that weighed at least twice as much. Kris and I had to keep reminding ourselves that we were on a little boat, a light boat, a boat designed for week-ending by the average and voyaging by the adventuresome. Our second surprise was how well she held her course. I could tie off her tiller and she would stay reasonably on course, even down wind.

After a couple of hours, we lost our wind and had to motor the rest of the way to the island. We arrived as the sun was setting, grabbed a mooring and made supper. Everything felt quite at home and very comfortable.

We put the girls in the aft cabin and Kris and I took the V-berth in the forepeak. The girls had their radio and played all the rock and roll they wanted and nary a sound did we hear. What luxury! I could unwind and they could raise all the hell they wanted without disturbing the rest of us.

We dug out the Avon, pumped it up and visited ashore for a while, then returned for the night. The next morning, we were off as soon as breakfast was finished so we could get a maximum of time under sail. No wind, so we motored. Just before getting back to Newport, the wind piped up nicely for a couple of hours. We were at an opportune location for that because there were plenty of boats outside to test ourselves against. I put up the genny in an effort to deliberately over canvas her, and in about 15 to 18 knots, she definitely was over canvased, but she remained easily controlled.

We went hard to weather with a 4l-foot cruising ketch. The crew of the ketch scrambled to trim up properly and leave us. They didn't.

Then we fell off and ran dead before the wind with an older light displacement 26-foot racing boat. Incredibly, we left it in our wake.

We decided to sail up the harbor entrance. In the distance was an old 33-foot production fiberglass boat, originally designed for racing. I still can't believe that we not only caught up, but passed it handily. The other skipper did not seem at all pleased.

By all means, with her shoal draft, the Nor'Sea did make leeway while going to weather, but it was not excessive in any sense and I feel confident that in a severe situation, she could claw herself off a lee shore with the best of them.

As I mentioned earlier, the decks are extremely well designed. The cockpit is planned to act as a double berth while in port by simply raising the grate and fitting it into the specially designed lips. Cushions over complete the 4'6" x 6'2" sleeping area which will be a blessing in the tropics.

Midships, the deck is raised to allow that because there were boats outside to test increased room below. The deck then resumes its normal height at the forward end of the trunk cabin. This creates the illusion of a forward deck well without being a true well. Such a well is great for cleaning dirty anchors and line. More importantly, it is a place to clean fish. I rarely fished on my last cruise of three and a half years simply because there was no place on board to go through that messy process.

One other fine feature about the foredeck: It was designed with sunbathing in mind and the cabin is comfortably slanted at the forward end to allow prolonged lounging. The girls spent most of their time there because it was the quietest under way and they were out of the way of others. It also was the most scenic spot.

Aft of the cockpit is the small aft cabin trunk and just aft of that is a very small amount of deck space. With a modified tiller and good reinforcement under the deck, that could be a good place to store an inflatable or a survival pack. It would be protected by the cabin and the tiller.

Speaking of the aft cabin, one would think it would be a tiny, confining place. It isn't. The designer has done a masterful job at utilizing space on a yacht that has too long been ignored. The headroom is a minimum of 38 inches and the width is 6'2" at the widest. In fact, an enterprising person could put in an athwartships double if he had a mate of say shorter than 5'8".

Though our test boat did not have lifelines or pulpits, I would opt to do without the formal lifelines and go only with bow and stern pulpits. I would run ropes through the rigging to attach to the pulpits. This would provide good, strong and functional lifelines when they were needed under way and cut down on the topside weight. Some may balk at that, but I have made one 20-day crossing under rough conditions with such lines and will never go back to the standard lifeline arrangement unless it is aboard a steel yacht and the stanchions are welded to the boat.

I would like to see some form of anchor storage other than on that wonderful foredeck. There is no need for a windlass on a boat of this size. If chain is used, a pawl at the bow roller would be sufficient. Extra large sheet winches would be helpful when it may be necessary to winch your self off a bar.

For long distance cruising, I definitely would build my own interior. The standard one is fine, in fact delightful, for two. But I think in terms of four and even five, since I have a sailing addict for a mother-in-law. Hence, I would remove the head from the port side of the main cabin and put half the galley to port, the other half to starboard at the companion way and install a bulkhead forward to allow for a larger hanging locker and some formal chain locker area for sails and ground tackle.

But those changes are very personal and since the yacht is available in kit form, could easily be made.

Construction seemed very good. And this I checked as carefully as possible and with some knowledge since I once worked for a few months as a boat laminator when I was replenishing the cruising kitty a few years ago in Nova Scotia. My only improvement would be to add some hull insulation, particularly forward, where the water creates a chattering sound as it passes by the simulated lapstrake hull. Incidentally, the lapstrake design, difficult to lay up, creates considerable additional inherent strength in a glass yacht if done properly.

All in all, if you're looking for a cruising yacht that can be berthed in your own back yard, but still be capable of making extended ocean voyages, you would do well to examine closely the Nor'Sea 27. She was designed by the very respected Lyle Hess, a man who has the reputation of sometimes driving his builders slightly nutty with his demands for perfection. But he also is a man who worries about the safety of cruisers. That's a difficult combination to beat.