Building Calyndrix, my Gaff-Rigged Yawl: Ronald van Dijk

When I retired and settled in Malaysia, we got busy with renovating the house, with developing a garden and with consultancy work. By the time the house and garden were in reasonable shape and after I decided to stop with consultancies, I turned to my hobbies for which there was never enough time, such as pursuing my skills as a flute player (classical European), history and literature, fine carpentry and the building of a sailboat.  

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Editor's note: We published an earlier article by Ronald in our Quarterly of September 2019, in which he detailed the construction process as it stood at that time and before its launching.  Click here.

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The sailboat that I selected to build is the “Jewell” designed by the French naval architect, François Vivier. It is a two-masts gaff rigged yawl, lap strake built, constructed with a combination of plywood and solid wood using epoxy to put it all together. The length over deck is 18 feet (6 meters) and under sail with the mizzen sail out it measures 23 feet (7½ m). The total sail area is 22 m2 and it has a replacement of over one ton, just about right for single handed off-shore sailing.

I purchased the building plan plus drawings from Vivier in France and received the sail number “9”. Boat builder Tony O’Connor in Perth, Australia, sold me 36 sheets of marine Okoumé plywood (CNC). The sails I bought via boat builder Ben Ullings in the Netherlands from a well reputed company of sailmakers. In preparing this project, I extended the carport of my house with an extra 11 meters creating ample space. … and after consulting my now grown up children, the boat was going to be named “Calyndrix” after the boat that I had sailed in Fiji when we lived in the Pacific.

So far, so good. Let’s start with the plan: what the boat should look like.

François Vivier’s design of the gaff rigged yawl “Jewell”

The “boat” in the shape that I received it at my house.

After cutting out some 200 individual parts from the plywood sheets, I began with a frame (grey plywood) on top of which I constructed the bulkheads, the sole, the transom, the stem (steve) and the box keel. Everything was sandpapered, coated in epoxy and fixed with marine stainless steel screws and epoxy. Beams of solid timber were added to strengthen and stiffen the plywood where needed.

This boat is lapstrake built, that means that the hull is constructed with planks overlapping each other with a few centimeters. It demands careful carpentry, especially at the stem (front of the hull) to ensure that the planks come together nicely and have a smooth surface.

Step by step, or in boat builder’s talk: “a plank a day”, I progressed. Then after many days, the hull was ready. Even the chickens were impressed!

Several layers of two-components undercoat paint was applied to prepare the the hull for it’s final layer of paint.

I constructed the centre board from three layers of plywood. The middle layer was cut out and filled with 30 Kg of lead that I melted in the right shape. The centre board as shown here weighs over 40 Kg and is placed inside the box keel. It can move up and down around a brass axle with the help of ropes and pulleys. The centre board will ensure that the boat can sail straight and to a sharp angle into the wind.

I choose a bright red colour for the final paint of the hull. The paint is a two-component polyethylene that provides a very hard and smooth surface.

In order to turn the hull I constructed a cradle. With the help of ropes and pulleys it was supposed to be lifted manually and then pushed over to let it ‘land’ on the wheels of the cradle. …. assuming of course, that the roof of the car port could hold the weight.

This was a rather tense moment. The hull plus cradle weighs about half a ton, equivalent to the weight of a small car. Pulling the ropes through all those pulleys did not work as expected and even with the help of my son-in-law, it did not work. I had to use my two-ton land cruiser to do the job, and that went fine. The hull came off the ground and, to my enormous relief, the beams of the car port did not crash down. Sometimes, you have to take a risk 😊.

After all the excitement of flipping the hull, we were relieved to see it standing proudly on its cradle, ready for the next phase: painting the inside, constructing the deck and cabin, fixing the floors, tables, and other parts of the interior.

For most of the fittings I used mahogany timber that previously had served as packing material (sic) when moving from my last duty station Kinshasa (RDC) to Malaysia. The pieces were usually not long enough, but by applying a special carpentry technique known as “scarfing” I extended each beam and plank to the required length.

After building and placing the deck, I constructed the cabin. The sides and front are slightly curved, which was simple, but the roof needed special attention. It is composed of three thin sheets of plywood glued on top of each other and, while the glue is still wet, bend over a mold using clamps to keep it in the right shape. Once the glue has hardened it stays in shape and is extremely strong.

When the cabin and additional battens were in place and the painting of the hull was done, I used seven layers of a special UV-resistant clear varnish to protect the wood and to ensure that the beautiful colour and the grain was clearly visible.

For the spars I needed long pieces of light weight timber without nuts. I could not find long pieces of that type of timber. I came across a factory that uses Oregan pine but the planks that I bought from them had many nuts. Cutting out the nuts and scarfing the short planks that I was left with, resulted in planks of the right length. Then, gluing four planks on top of each other, I got a thick beam from which a spar could be constructed. Planing, sandpapering and varnishing spread out over several days, was needed to make each of the spars: the mizzen mast, the main mast, the boom, the gaff, and the gaff sprit.

I got my trailer built. It’s a rather long combination of about nine meters behind my car and requires careful driving, especially when in reverse. The boat is now more or less ready. In this picture, I have the 4½ meter mizzen mast already stepped and am lifting the 6 meter main mast. Sorting out all the pulleys, ropes, stays and other parts of the rigging proved to be an interesting puzzle. However, bit by bit, I am getting there.

Finally, the big moment has arrived! I got some help from boat people to launch the boat from a ramp not far from our house. Slowly, slowly reversing down the ramp and into the water.

And then, a miracle happens: that little boat lifts itself from the trailer. It does not need the support of the trailer any longer and floats gently away on its own. It was a very special moment …..

Calyndrix

Calyndrix is moored in a small harbour, fifteen minutes from our house. All is ready to hoist the sails and move out to sea.

Sailing Calyndrix, my gaff-rigged yawl

For the first time leaving the harbour and setting sail out into the open sea. It is freedom, it is even a bit frightening: alone with the wind, the sea, the movement. It is hard to describe, it is beautiful!

Sailing and handling the boat is no problem. I learned that as a child and it is like how you learned to walk: you never forget. But now I have to understand navigating. I am sailing in the Strait of Malacca. There are the tides, there are streams, and there is the wind …. There is a lot to learn.

Cape Rachado, that small landmass jutting into the sea at the bottom of the chart is what I wanted to see. It.is of historical importance. If you google: “the battle of Cape Rachado” you will see the story. At home with the chart on the table, I determined the locations (waypoints) where I needed to sail to. Waypoints are expressed in longitude (distance from the equator) and latitude (distance from the town of Greenwich in the UK). With the waypoints dotted on the chart I used the compass to map out the courses that I needed to sail. The waypoints itself are entered into my marine GPS device which will tell me when I have arrived at a certain point and have to adjust the sails and change course towards the next waypoint. The challenge is to sail the right course while using only the wind.

Sailing off Cape Rachado, I saw what those sailers in the early seventeenth century must have seen and I tried to imagine what it must have been manoeuvring their ships during that battle so long ago. It is sailing through history in the true sense of the word.

There is never a dull moment after you have retired from work 😊

You can contact Ronald van Dijk at: rvandijk1@gmail.com