42348Re: [bolger] Light Dory MK V?
- Mar 1 7:26 AMWill Samson wrote:
>Here is the text from the 1980 Small Boat Journal
> As far as I know the current Light Dory (plans available from Bolger OR Payson) > is the 'type VI' - so it post-dates the type V in Small Boats.
where Phil Bolger explains the lineage of his dory designs:
Phil Bolger Comments: From Small Boat Journal V.1#7 March 1980
A 15'6" Light Dory
My leeboard sharpie, Pointer, was launched in the summer of 1960. She
had no place on deck for a dinghy, and I set out to design and build a
good rowing tender. I wanted one that would live in rough water and
row well enough so I could feel free to anchor far out from landings.
Besides, I'd been one of those "pretty thin on the ground at the time"
who had a mission to see that a generation didn't grow up in total
ignorance of what could be accomplished with reasonable practical
rowing boats. I pulled out a design I'd made back in 1952 called
Golden River, a planked dory that had rounded sides and was a good
deal slimmer and lower than the usual fisherman's dory. (Fig.1) These
were nice boats to row, but the construction was so finicky and
laborious that only a few were built. I revamped it for sheet plywood
construction and in a moment of inspiration very much improved the
looks of the sheer line. (Fig. 2) This drawing wasn't supposed to be
seen by anybody but me, by the way; my brother said something about
the shoemaker's children going barefoot when he saw one of the
drawings I'd made for my own use.
I built her that winter, very roughly, having no pretensions to being
a competent carpenter. If you stand back fifty feet that boat looks
real good, said a kind friend. In fact, it did (Fig. 3), and still
does; Damian McLaughlin owns it now, along with the sharpie, and he's
refinished it elaborately.
I gave it a quick trial, hurriedly added a skeg to make it tow
straight, and took off for a month's cruise around Cape Cod and the
Islands. The cruise was meant to showoff the sharpie, but wherever I
went,nobody looked at her. They were all looking past the stern, at
the dory on the end of her sea painter. There were so many compliments
that I thought I must have a commercial product, and when I got home I
redesigned it again for production. I'd like to note that the dory
shape was originally adapted to series production out of sheet
material, namely wide planks, and these boats have the sharp flare so
they can be stored and transported in compact nests. This third
version had the stem rounded back where I'd had a miserable time
trying to twist the plywood onto the fore foot. The fore-and-aft
straddle thwart had made her seem even more tender than she was by
nature because it prevented stepping dead center of the bottom; I
changed that for three conventional thwarts. I put the gunwale
stringer on the outside so water and mud would run cleanly out when
she was on her side; the proportions of breadth and flare made it
possible to step on the gunwale as she lay on a beach, bringing the
far gunwale nearly up to an out stretched hand with which she could be
pulled up on her beam ends. I corrected the angle of the rowlock
sockets, though to this day I don't understand why it is that a
rowlock that cants out with the flare makes a boat seem hard to row.
With my heart in my mouth I ordered a batch of ten of these boats from
Art Rand's boat shop, on speculation, and bought some small ads. (Fig.
4) The ten sold out, and another ten, and another and another, and
another. The demand was scattered, but it was there. There were more
compliments, including one I'll treasure forever from Buckminster
Fuller. Palawan was seen to sail through Buzzards Bay with a brace of
them nested on deck. Ralph Wiley ordered one for the deck of a cruiser
he was building.
The modest success was nice, but I soon had enough of handling sales.
I tossed the business in Art Rand's lap and went off for a year to
work in Stanley Woodward's yacht yard in Mallorca. When I got back,
Art had got himself into a financial bind and gone out of business.
For vanity's sake, I wanted the design to stay in circulation, so I
drew the plans again and made a present of that version to Capt. Jim
Orrell, the Texas Dory man. He called it the Gloucester Gull and
circulated it nobly; I'd guess he must have sent out thousands of
plans. But we quarrelled over it: he got angry because I wouldn't draw
up a sailing rig and a motor well for it, and I lost my temper because
he went ahead and had somebody else do both over my objections. These
I thought, should have been respected, especially as my reasons were
that the modified version was somewhat dangerous as well as
When I was working up my book, "Small Boats, "I designed (for the
book)what was supposed to be an improved version, with longer entrance
lines, drew weight more concentrated to go better against a head sea,
and the construction supposedly cleaned up a little. (Fig. 5) This
version really is better, but not by much, and most people don't think
it's as good looking as the 1961 design, which just keeps on selling.
The absolute final version, as far as I'm concerned, is Type VI. (Fig.
6) This one was drawn up to Harold Payson's order. He both builds them
and sells the plans, which is the way it should be, ideally. I think
it must have been one of his boats in which the hero of "Swashbuckler"
pursued the heroine of that rather disappointing movie
I've spent a good deal of time in the past 10 or 15 years trying to
warn people that dories aren't the best solution for all nautical
problems. They need lofting and jigging preparation that make them
expensive to build one-off, and they're full of sharp bevels that make
them tricky for novice carpenters. All of them, and this one
especially, feel terribly tender, and they're hard to get into and out
of in consequence. They have a wild, bouncy motion in a seaway, which
keeps them dry but can do horrid things to your stomach. I've watched
one that was being towed behind a close-hauled sailboat in a strong
chop and a heavy rain, and her cork-screwing among the waves was
throwing the rainwater up and out of her bilge 6' in the air. Over in
England they've solved the stability problems of dories by bestowing
the name dory on copies of the Boston Whaler. S'truth!
Be that as it may, these light dories are not bad boats. I've several
times rowed 15 nautical miles in five hours, and more athletic types
have done much better than that in them. If a single oarsman has sense
enough to stay solidly planted on his or her butt, low in the boat,
these boats will go through a wicked-looking sea. And though it's not
hard to design a boat that will perform and behave better for most
purposes -- even in sheet plywood, let alone molded -- it's not at all
easy to make it as graceful to the eye.
This design seems likely to be the permanent monument to my erratic
career as a designer, and if so it will be mostly because one day in
November of 1961 I happened to bend a batten around a very pretty
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