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A well-made,
sweet sailing family cruiser
by Greg Jones
Blue Water Sailing - February 2003
When I arrived at the fuel
dock in the Newport, R.I. harbor, I learned that the
Gib'Sea 41 we were going to take to Annapolis, Md.,
some 400 miles away, was not yet available. Another
magazine for sailors was onboard testing the boat,
but the whole process would only take an hour, after
which we could head offshore for the Blue Water
Sailing boat test.
The wind was blowing up half a gale, right on the
nose as we headed out Narragansett Bay. We could
have set the sails, tacking back and forth with
water pouring heroically over the deck, but our
destination for the night was Block Island, 25 miles
away and so directly upwind from us it was a huge
wind machine mounted at the entrance to Great Salt
Pond.
This 41-foot masthead sloop is Gib'Sea latest
addition to their fleet, fitting neatly into the
perceived marketing gap between the 37 and the 43.
The 41 was introduced at the 2001 Paris Boat Show,
with the first one launched in La Rochelle, France,
in May of 2002. The boat we sailed was hull number
four, the boat used for the American debut of the
design and star of the Gib'Sea exhibit at the
Newport International Boat Show.
Wave bashing out of Narragansett Bay we were at
the last stages of the flood tide, with slack water
perhaps two hours away, so there wasn't much current
to buck, but there was 35 knots of wind and the
waves. We managed to make 5.5 to 6 knots at 2,400
rpm, and while there may have been the chance for
another knot or two ( the hull speed calculates to
8.34 knots ) if we rang up the engine room for
another thousand revs, the price would have been
less comfort and a lot more water over the bows. As
we turned more to the south, the wave pressure
lessened somewhat and the wind ceased to be directly
on the bows so we nudged the single-lever engine
control and kicked up the revs to 2,600, giving us
7.1 knots, ample evidence of the easier sea
conditions.
It was a day to be thankful for being on a
sailboat. To both sides of us powerboats leaving the
Newport show were making their way out of the
harbor. They were making a few knots more than we,
but they were launching off waves like flying fish
and hitting the troughs with a sound that carried
over a quarter of a mile of open water. The skippers
didn't look comfortable. They were standing up,
holding onto the wheel and being thrown from side to
side as they made their way out of the harbor. The
eerie glow in the cockpit was probably from their
white knuckles. Onboard our Gib'Sea, life was much
more mellow.
We did hit the wave through with a thud now and
again, but the Gib'Sea 41 is built with offshore
seas in mind. The design carries a category
"A-Ocean" rating from the CE, their highest offshore
rating. Briefly, the boat must be designed for
extended, self-sufficient offshore voyages with
winds in excess of Force 8 and wave heights in
excess of 13 feet.
Entering Block Island's Great Salt Pond things
calmed down considerably, and after a bit of looking
around we chose an anchorage in 12 feet of water.
Then I discovered that the boat needs something to
hold the chain other than the large cleat placed
beside the chain locker. It's fine for a rope rode,
but his boat was set up with 3/8-inch chain, powered
out and in a Lofrans electric windlass. Not a
serious oversight easily remedied, and part of the
check-list resulting from a sea trial.
The galley is to port, amidships, and directly
across from the dinette, in the manner currently
popular in European boats. The double sink is at the
forward end of the galley, and while it functioned
well from a workflow stand-point, we prefer sinks to
be as near the centerline as possible to ensure ease
of draining on either tack.
The sinks are a good size, square in shape,
measuring 13x9x8 and 13x13x8 inches. We don't like
round sinks, having had dishes become nearly stuck
in them on other boats, and the square shape
obviates that problem.
The refrigerator, by Frigoboat, kept things
nicely chilled with no freezing cold spots in either
of the two boxes. It only drew four amps, quite
economical considering it chilled a box 18.5x16x10
inches and another with slightly less volume, with
four inches of insulation on the sides and two
inches on the top/opening lid.
Our initial skepticism that the linear
arrangement of the galley would not work well in a
seaway, with nothing to brace against while cooking,
proved groundless, however. In the center of the
saloon is a dining seat, under which is stowage.
This seat has a sturdy wood brace at just the right
place. There is also enough room to pass by the
cook, potentially a problem with a galley not tucked
into its own U-shape area.
The various drawers and lockers all opened using
a latch that requires sticking your finger in and
pushing a lever> We have sailed with this type of
latch before, and never overcame the fear of a wave
knocking us sideways with our finger securely stuck
in the hole. The hole is bigger than some we have
seen, and probably less prone to a problem but this
is something we would change.
The chainplates are (just barely) accessible
behind the settee cushions, tucked up under what
might be called the beam shelf. A 7/8-inch stainless
steel rod carries the tension, with all adjustments
topside, preventing the rod from working in a seaway
and inducing leaks.
We had planned to leave before sunrise the next
day, but at the hour when we expected to see a
glowing promise on the eastern horizon all we saw
was a thick gray cloud, with visibility of just over
a boat length. In the catalog of pleasures, there is
little to rival the delicious feeling of returning
to a warm berth in the guise of prudent seamanship.
Two hours later, with the fog cleared enough to
make out the harbor entrance, we were up on deck
taking in the anchor. The design of a good anchor
well, while neither difficult nor secret, does take
up a lot of space. An anchor well for chain should
be narrow and deep in order to prevent chain castles
from forming, but that is a shape hard to come by
when designing the interior spaces of a boat.
Designers like to use the triangular area
immediately aft of the bows, and that results in an
anchor well that is rather more wire than deep. It's
a shape that works well enough for rope, but
necessitates a careful eye when taking in the chain.
A capsized chain castle will almost always foul when
running out, and setting your anchor with a breeze
piping up isn't the time to sort out a fouled chain.
This is not necessarily a criticism of the Gib'Sea
as it is characteristic of most of today's boats.
The cold front which had brought the unsettled
weather and winds had stalled out and evolved to an
occluded front just north of us, and in its wake was
the morning's fog, followed by the wind veering from
southeast to northwest at 6 to 10 knots. Upon
clearing the entrance we rolled out the 115 percent
headsail and the mast-furled main, and, with both
sails drawing nicely, shut off the engine.
The engine noise wasn't bad at all, but there is
still nothing to compare with the whisper of wind
against sail and the soughing of water past the
hull. We were tucked up pretty close to the wind,
just under 45 degrees apparent, and making 4.9 knots
of true wind. The helm was easy, feather-light, with
just over a spoke of weather helm. The cable
steering terminates in a quadrant easily inspected
under a hatch beneath the helmsman's set.. We set
the emergency rudder, discovering it worked best
with the arm set to face aft; like nearly every
emergency tiller we have used, steering with it
would require either the services of an Olympic
wrestler or some means of mechanical advantage.
The steering was accurate, smooth, with no slack,
and the seat-to-wheel distance allowed for legroom
and the ergonomics seemed well conceived. A number
of comfortable positions are possible, something
hard to evaluate within a few minutes at a boat show
or, for that matter, during a hour-long boat test.
Not bad for a family boat, I thought. When Dufour
bought the Gib'Sea company in 1998, Gib'Sea had not
exported boats to the U. S. since the 1980's, and
the brand name was virtually unknown here. At first,
Dufour thought about marketing Gib'Sea boats under
the name Dufour 2000. The original French company,
Gibert Marine, was well known in Europe and even
though the Dufour Gib'Sea bears no resemblance to
the first Gib'Sea boats, Dufour kept the name.
Gib'Sea boats are made on the same production
line in La Rochelle where Dufours are built; they
are the family boat side of the Dufour line. It's a
"family cruiser" as opposed to Dufour, and I suppose
that defines the difference as well as anything.
"Family cruiser " it may be, but it's still a
solidly built boat, with the hull laid up by hand
using isophthalic resins with Aramid reinforcement
in the fiberglass. The outer hull layer is solid
glass, using NPG resins for osmosis prevention, and
the floors are laminated to the hull structure. The
deck is balsa cored, reducing weight above the
waterline.
The underbody profile has a fairly constant
radius from stem to stern, with an epoxy-coated,
cast-iron bulb-fin keel and a semi-balanced space
rudder, made of closed-cell epoxy foam. The keel is
worthy of mention, with its flattened bulb having a
long, distinctive trailing edge, possibly making it
a very efficient kelp catcher when motoring in
reverse.
The bow is nearly plumb and distinguished by what
Gib'Sea calls the "Dolphin Nose", a term which may
be a literal translation from the French. The short
bowsprit has a cutout in the center and a split
forestay chainplate, made of what may be best
described as a stainless steel plank. The anchor, a
35-pound, Delta plow, rests with its shank through
the split portion of the forestay chainplate. The
chainplate is then attached to the upper portion of
the stem where it serves double duty as a chafe
guard for the anchor and a solid attachment point
for the forestay. We liked the system, and were able
to check its ability to withstand strain at wide
angles of pull as the boat yawed in the winds while
we were anchored in Great Salt Pond.
Looking aft, the twin backstays provide easy
access to the sugar-scoop stern, and a swim ladder
folds neatly down from the transom. The waterline is
just below the lower edge of the transom, and I
noticed no propensity for annoying noises from waves
slapping against the stern when at anchor.
With a wide, low-deadrise hull shape, there was
some pounding when working hard to windward, but
there was no shuddering in the hull. It felt solid,
secure, and the heavy hull lay-up schedule provided
good sound insulation. I have been in boats, where
the sound of water rushing by, magnified by large,
unsupported hull sections, was so noisy as to give
rise to dreams of sleeping under a waterfall, but
the Gib'Sea 41 provided a quiet refuge from the sea.
The boat exhibited high form stability when on a
reach, and the transition from form-resisted heeling
to ballast-resisted heeling was gradual, coming in
at just 20 degrees of heel. We rarely saw that much
heel, however, even with winds of 25 knots, and the
boat gets high marks for comfort in a seaway. The
pounding is an inevitable byproduct of the broad,
flat hull shape, and if you want over 13 feet of
beam, carried quite low in the hull, then that is
the price. After spending five days living aboard,
eating, sleeping and spending off-watch time in the
comfortable saloon, it is a trade I was quite
willing to accept. The wide beam is always with you
and any pounding is transitory. The beam/length
ratio is a very modern 3.16 and the beam is carried
well aft. The beam in the aft cabin is equal to the
beam at the forward bulkhead separating the saloon
from the V-berth.
Trimming the Gib'Sea sails is vastly simplified
by a clever visual marking system on the clew of the
headsail. A reinforcing loop of nylon webbing is set
at an angle that should, when the car is set
properly, be in line with the sheet. It's well
thought-out, and we found that setting the car by
eye and experience resulted in a near-perfect
coincidence with the guide. On the headsail and main
are three blue circles, indicating the reef points,
simplicity itself: Roll in the sail to the mark and
you have a repeatable reefing point.
With an increasing number of sailors purchasing a
30- or 40-footer as their first boat, aids such as
this will ease their learning curve, and Gib'Sea is
to be commended for making life that much easier.
Under more moderate conditions, the Gib'Sea made
six knots in 8.3 knots of true wind at 45 degrees
apparent, slowing to 4.5 knots when squeezed up to
40 degrees. In 10 knots of wind, we tacked through
90 degrees, but it was faster and tidier when we
went through 95 degrees. The roughly 15-degree
sheeting angle is determined by the track running
directly aft of the stays. Running the headsail
inside the stays is prevented by the presence of the
lower shrouds.
Heaving-to was easy, and worked best with the
headsail rolled to the second reef and the main
sheeted a few degrees to leeward. The boat calmed
down, resting against the wind, with a nice long
slick to windward. We succeeded on the second try,
after finding we needed to reduce headsail drive.
The range of yawing motion where the boat stayed
hove-to was acceptably wide, and a would feel quite
comfortable going below with the wheel tied down and
the sails set.
Going below in a seaway I wanted a handhold
immediately upon reaching the saloon sole, but it
was a far reach to the first one. Except for that,
handholds were well placed, and on deck the aluminum
toerail, coupled with a good handrail on the
deckhouse, made moving about quite secure
The toerail was solid, except for an opening
amidships and at the extreme fore and aft ends,
something we felt to be an oversight. Oval openings
in the toerail have such a variety of uses, from
snatchblocks for preventers to tying up the dinghy,
that this would be a modification we would make
fairly soon after taking possession of our new
Gib'Sea 41.
As you arrive in the saloon from on deck, the nav
station is directly to starboard, in our two-head
version. There is a three-head version, but the
price for the added plumbing is that the nav station
becomes a table added aft of the starboard settee.
To port is the head, with an enclosed shower and
sufficient in both size and comfort. Forward of the
head is the galley, with the dining table across
from it. The V-berth, with its own head, is 6'9"
long and just as wide at the big end and large
enough at the "footsie end" for two people (or four
feet) to sleep in comfort. The head door is 18
inches wide and 5'6" high, with a sill high enough
that even when showering underway no rivulets of
water escaped to the cabin. Surrounding the V-berth
is a shelf quite large at the aft end, tapering to
single-book size forward. There is a dressing seat
to port with stowage amply provided by shelves,
drawers and a closet. We slept in the V-berth, even
underway, and found the padding sufficient for a
good night's rest, and the length was more than
adequate for our 6'2" frame to stretch out.
The nav station has a proper table, measuring
23x37 inches, big enough for a proper paper chart-
seen by some sailors as a touch of atavism made
superfluous by the use of electronic charts, but a
prudent mariner will not rely on only one means of
navigation. Charts can be stowed in the usual manner
under the chart table, and the 24x23x2-inch volume
will keep folding to a minimum. There is room
aplenty on the bulkheads surrounding the nav station
for a proper electric navigational suite, and the
wiring is easily accessed with the large opening
panels. Our boat was outfitted with a Furuno GP 1650
chart plotter, and an Autohelm ST 60 nav instrument
suite with an Autohelm ST 6000 autopilot, and the
installation of the chart plotter left room for more
gear, such as radar screen.
Aft of the saloon are two cabins, with the port
cabin having its own attached head with shower. The
berths are large, 6'9" long and nearly five-feet
wide, running fore and aft, and thus suitable for
sleeping while underway. An opening portlight,
placed on the transom, gives good airflow, with two
more opening ports in the deckhead and the hull for
those warm tropical nights.
Large shelves measuring 13x10x23 inches are
against the hulls as is a hanging locker. As with
the V-berth, there is also stowage beneath the sole.
Engine access is very good. The entire forward
end of the engine is visible when the companionway
is raised on its pressurized gas piston, and the two
aft cabins have openings allowing engine and
steering access.
After 400 miles, we found the Gib'Sea 41 to meet
nearly all of the requirements for a family, even
for extended offshore passages. It is solid,
comfortable and evidences a design team familiar
with the requirements for an offshore boat.
At 41 feet, its is squarely in the size range
that is fast becoming nearly standard with today's
cruising families of couples. With all lines led aft
to the cockpit, it is suitable for shorthanded
sailing, and there are only a few minor tweaks we
would make, most of them mentioned in the article,
which we would make to transform this well-equipped
cruiser to "our" boat.
This article was written by Greg Jones, and
published in the February 2003
issue of Blue Water Sailing.
Photos in the article - by Blue Water Sailing - have
been reproduced here.
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