John Gardner's Quincy Skiff

The late John Gardner of Mystic Seaport was apparently unable to pursue a teaching career on graduating from Columbia because of his political views, but formal education's loss was a great boon to the wooden boat community. Very few people combine practical ability with good writing skills, but his books on building classic small boats are so clear and inspirational that each chapter seems to cry out "please build me".

So I found myself while building the Swampscott dory in Volume one devouring the other chapters and wondering which would shout the loudest. In the event the modified Quincy skiff won out and became my next project. At the start of the chapter on her the Guru writes that she

“should row well, but build easily and cheaply. This is not a racing shell, obviously, nor is it intended for the open sea. This simple skiff should do well on lakes, large rivers, and sheltered waters along the coast.”

There were aspects of the construction that seemed particularly intriguing. She has an almost flat bottom formed from four softwood planks spliced together, two per side, to form chine logs that will be cross-planked over later.

Once cut to shape, the logs are set upside down on horses positioned at a convenient height, then suitably bevelled, and the transom and stem are added. Next the enormous plywood sides, over eighteen feet long and each needing two scarfs, are tortured into shape.

The book didn't actually say how difficult it would be to do that last bit, nor did it point out that a dry fit usually goes rather better than the real thing. I did this build single-handed and could have done with a helper to control the plywood sides, sticky and slimy with glue, as they slithered around on the temporary building moulds. Bringing the sides together was a real struggle, as I had decided to add both at once, in order to balance out the inevitable stresses on the jig. For a while this caused me a real panic, until I decided to screw battens to the plywood sides to get a proper grip on them. The battens could then be subjected to a lot of force with Spanish windlasses.

Fortunately I wasn't using a fast-hardening glue, and I eventually managed to close the gaping spaces at the bow at the expense of a lot of cursing and badly blistered and glued hands. After this planking the bottom and adding the seats was pretty simple.

The result was a stylish and very unusual rowing boat. The only problem was that we don't live on a lake or large river, nor is our coast all that sheltered. Perhaps I had skipped over that first paragraph in my eagerness to get building. With her flat bottom and long slab sides this skiff is no boat for a cross wind of any strength, or a seaway. In a calm she's a delight to row and my wife still recalls the trip we had one very crisp and sunny New Year's day, travelling effortlessly over four miles down our loch and back.

Because calm days don't happen often in our part of the world the skiff passed fairly soon into the hands of friends who did live beside a sheltered loch, whose sons got great use out of her. They are now grown men and the family have moved on, but the skiff is still on the lochside, more than twenty years later and reasonably serviceable, although some of her bottom cross-planks have been replaced from time to time.

Update on 2 November 2011

Dave Gentry has kindly allowed me to share some photos he took of this Quincy skiff doing good service in the catering trade. He has a fascinating collection of designs on his own website, here:- http://www.GentryCustomBoats.com

Swampscott Dory

 

"Dories have long been recognized as fine seaboats, but their low initial stability and active response to wave action is apt to be disconcerting to the sailor unaccustomed to dories."


The late John Gardner of Mystic Seaport combined a massive understanding of the history and practicalities of small boat design and construction with an ability to write lucid and interesting prose to guide the novice through his or her first few projects.


When I got a copy of "Building Classic Small Craft" about twenty five years ago I had just completed the Joel White Nutshell, about which I have already enthused - here- and was ready for a larger project. The book was a treasure chest of interesting shapes and romantic histories, evocative of the coast of Maine in its transition from a series of traditional fishing ports to a holiday destination, conjuring up the spirit of Winslow Homer.

 

Here were fully detailed drawings of everything from planks to spars and sails, with simple instructions and words of encouragement. Long evenings were spent agonising over which of these evocative craft should grace the shores of Loch Melfort. 

There were a number of factors in the choice of the Swampscott dory as my next build. The shape was enticing, a lovely curve to the stem and an extreme "tombstone" stern, plus an utterly insane leg o' mutton mainsail and tiny jib set on an unstayed mast. I read that if you saw a line squall coming up you could throw the whole rig overboard in an instant and the boat would ride to it on her mainsheet like a sea anchor. That transom could never take an outboard, so rowability was a major factor.

Dories evolved in ancient history when wide flexible planks of cedar or pine were available, many presumably coming form old-growth forests long since destroyed. Plywood is of course an excellent modern alternative, stable and capable of providing a watertight glued structure.  Also there weren't too many planks to cut, unlike some of the other lovely designs in the book.

Like most amateur projects my dory was massively over-built. The hull planking came from 9mm marine ply, sourced from an ordinary builder's merchants, put together upside down over a temporary strong back set into the frames. The latter were cut off to length in due course and remained in the finished boat.

To get the sixteen foot length most of the planks had two scarfs.

I hadn't learned the delights of epoxy and glued the lands together with a polyurethane glue that went off in contact with moisture, not a problem in Argyll, but a plant spray was useful in occasional dry days. I didn't entirely trust the glue and added hundreds of copper nails as well, quite unnecessarily.

Don't paint the inside this colour - it attracts dung beetles

End of shed unbolted to get her out - it never recovered

The plank dimensions in the book were accurate and everything went together pretty well. My one gripe with these old American designs is with the profiles of centreboards and rudders. We now know that a good hydrofoil shape will make a world of difference to the performance of any vessel through the water and while there's an historical argument for keeping the traditional slab shape there's also a lot to be said for improving performance when it can easily be achieved. Here is the board, as drawn, just after I had cast in the required lead to make it sink.

In the Spring of 1988 the dory Anne, named after an understanding wife, took the water.

During the build process I had dreams of the result being an ideal boat for messing about, perhaps evening sails with a few friends, one in the bow with the case of beer passing refreshments down the line as required. Homer had after all got five boys aboard his admittedly slightly larger craft. But the dory turned out to be no picnic boat. Neither wife nor dog showed any great enthusiasm for going out in what was in reality quite a racy machine.

Dory and Nutshell

I found that I was mainly taking the dory Anne out on my own, which gave me a good sense of her qualities. One was her extreme sensitivity to weight distribution. Any movement forward would bring her sharply into the wind, so I changed the steering by removing the tiller and substituting a yoke with lines leading round the boat, enabling her to be controlled from anywhere.

The new Commander

Eventually dory Anne found a new owner, younger and fitter than I and with friends willing to experience the excitement of a hull that heals just so far, the rail exactly on the water, but that is almost impossible to push further. Under her new commander she made frequent explorations down the loch, invariably bringing her new crew home safe and well, if a little wet. I don't think the experience was unique, because when John Gardner's Volume Two came out there were drawings for wider, improved version. The quotation above comes from there.

From a construction point of view the dory lasted well. She endured many years of minimal maintenance and is still around somewhere, but I don't know where. She has been through a number of changes of ownership, generally and as far as I know has never been sold.