Extracted from an article in Issue No.31 (March / April 1989) of OCEAN NAVIGATOR magazine (Thank you Sharon Basil on "Wanderer's Song" for sharing it it me.)

by Marcia Reck

Opinions are divided, to say the least, over which rig is the best for ocean voyaging. Many different rigs have held sway as the most suitable as the popularity of different rigs has waxed and waned. Recently, we abandoned one rig for another but kept the same boat. Going from two masts to one was part of our search for that often attempted but elusive concept: the ultimate voyaging rig.

Mañana, a thirty-five footer built by Fuji of Japan from an Alden design, passed the first eleven years of her life as a ketch. While she may have been perfectly content in this form, my husband David and I, her second owners, soon became disenchanted. She is our first boat and was purchased with long-distance cruising in mind. At the time of her purchase, neither of us had any sailing experience. Period. All our knowledge of what might constitute a reliable boat for ocean sailing was gleaned from books and old magazine articles. Most of this material had been written in the 1970s or earlier, and the authors generally held that the appropriate vessel had a full keel, was of moderate to heavy displacement and had plenty of storage space. This collective wisdom also came down heavily on the side of the divided rig, more specifically the ketch, for ease of sail handling by a small crew. Since I, at least, am definitely small crew, that argument tipped the scales in favor of our selecting a ketch for voyaging.

All arguments aside, our real reason for choosing a ketch was that the first boat we saw that met most of our requirements happened to be one. Not for us the months spent walking docks, peering through portholes, and poking into moldy smelling lazarettes. We went out one fine spring morning, made one stop at a small brokerage and marina, and promptly put our money down on the third boat we inspected. We passed on the first two because their lockers would scarcely have held enough food for a weekend, let alone a three to four week passage to Hawaii.

Our new home and conveyance met all our major requirements including that of having two masts. It soon became evident, however, that for us the mizzenmast was useful mainly because it supported the mizzen boom which was handy for leaning against while steering. For Mañana, that mizzen was not useful.

Mañana‘s 220 square foot mainsail and 195 square foot working jib gave her plenty of drive in anything over 10 knots of wind. With less than eight knots, though, all sails were useless: Mañana wallowed while her sails flapped. She has a relatively short waterline of 26 feet. She displaces about 16,500 pounds, with ballast of 5,500 pounds. She is tender, she heels easily. We found that the combination of main, working jib, and mizzen could only be carried comfortably and efficiently with the wind below 15 knots. After that point, we would have water coming over the lee rail. Dropping the mizzen lessened the angle of heel considerably but affected speed very little, if at all. In addition, the mizzen would generally be carried only with the wind on the beam, no matter what the wind strength. Downwind, the mizzen tended to blanket the main and its performance to windward was never really satisfactory. As the main gave more speed and was far more useful in steadying the boat when rolling downwind, the mizzen saw less and less use.

The only times we found the mizzen to be helpful were when we had about 25 knots of wind on or forward of the beam. Originally we had two reef points in the main and found that the jib-mizzen combination reduced the pounding and lurching better than the jib with double-reefed main. We have since added a third set of reef points to the main. The triple reefed main with jib has proved to be the best combination of all in, these conditions.

We came to realize that the "divided rig for easier sail handling by a small crews" theory probably only applied to boats somewhat larger than Mañana. As our opinion of the usefulness of the mizzen sail changed, we noticed that the current literature on cruising boats in Mañana's size range was also showing a shift in opinion. The sloop and particularly the cutter, was rising in popularity as the ketch fell. A primary reason for this was windward ability, an area in which Mañana showed definite failings. Gentlemen may not go to windward, but cruisers invariably do.

More and more the mizzen remained furled. We began to seriously consider removing the mizzenmast. The idea had been lurking in the back of our minds ever since we'd first met Randy Brown and his Fleetwood in New Zealand. Fleetwood had begun life is a yawl. While reading for voyaging several years before we had met him, Randy had removed her mizzenmast and "just never bothered" to restep it. Meanwhile, the boat had sailed quite well without its missing mizzen. Would Mañana sail as well without the second stick? Why not? Wasn’t it conceivable that she’d point higher and heel less without the extra windage provided by 150 pounds of wooden mast and attendant hardware thirty feet above the deck? After much discussion, we decided that the theory sounded good but we’d never know for sure unless we actually gave it a try.

Why didn’t we simply sell Mañana and buy a cutter? Money, of course. We were not willing to work for the two to three years we figured would be necessary to accumulate the necessary funds, and above and beyound what we’d get for Mañana, to buy and equip our dream boat for cruising. Besides, Mañana had many times proved her seaworthiness.

The question of the mizzen was also settled by the almighty dollar. The time came when replacing Mañana’s rigging became essential to our peace of mind. As we began to add up the cost, the estimated five hundred dollars to replace the mizzen rigging seemed to dance on the page. In fact, it began to flash in neon. "Why are we spending five hundred dollars for something we almost never use and can most likely get by very well without?" we asked ourselves.

Somehow, it always seems that money saved is not money earned, but money spent elsewhere on the boat. A new twist entered the discussion. "You know," ventured Dave, "I've been thinking that I'd like to add a staysail; make Mañana into a cutter. That would give us a sail midway in size between the working jib and the storm jib and would mean we could drop the foresail when conditions got rough and run with the staysail. I wouldn't have to get drenched on the bowsprit so often. I'll bet that five hundred would almost pay for a staysail and the necessary rigging and hardware."

The more we thought about adding a staysail, the more advantages we saw. When we purchased Mañana she had too much weather helm. We had compensated for this by tuning the rigging so as to tilt the mainmast slightly forward. Adding a staysail and thereby increasing sail area for-ward of the mast would tend to create lee helm. By allowing the mainmast to return to its original position, the lee helm created by the new staysail could theoretically balance Mañana's natural weather helm.

In addition to being able to use the staysail in place of the jib in stormy conditions, we would be able to use it in lighter winds in conjunction with the jib and the main. We would not be restricted to beam winds as we were with the mizzen, but should be able to use it to windward as well Our proposed staysail of 100 square feet was just five square feet smaller than the mizzen; we would be carrying the designed amount of sail, but in a different and, we hoped, more efficient configuration.

Adding an inner stay would give support for the mast should we lose the forestay. We also planned to add running backstays which would be of help in case of failure of the backstay.

We mentioned our proposed change from ketch to cutter to our neighbors in the live-aboard community in Guam. The response was generally unfavorable. Predictably the loudest wail came from the traditionalists: "But she looks so nice as a ketch!" This we could ignore, but some people had more serious reservations. Foremost was the fact that our mainmast was too far forward. "You won't have enough room for a staysail. And your mainsail is too small for a sloop. You need to move the mast aft and get a longer boom."

We had measured and knew that our proposed staysail would fit forward of the mast as it stood. Indeed, we had already decided that moving the mast was out of the question Mañana’s mainmast is stepped on deck, braced by bulkheads below. Were we to move it aft, we'd have to devise new means of support. Perhaps even more difficult would be the need to reposition the chain plates. We knew she sailed acceptably with the mizzen furled. We could see no reason why she wouldn't sail at least as well without the sail and mast on the boat at all. We had to admit that the staysail was a bit of a question mark, but we felt it worth the try. We also knew that Mañana might look a bit odd with her single mast so far forward, but we doubted that anyone who hadn't seen her before would notice. (No one has.)

One calm morning we came alongside a friend's 41-foot yawl. We had previously disconnected the triatic stay and had removed the mizzen boom. Now we attached a rope sling around Mañana‘s mizzen spreaders. To this we hooked Jane's main halyard. As Dave and our friend Mike loosened the turnbuckles on the shrouds, I cranked on the halyard winch, taking up the weight of the mast. Finally with the shrouds free, we lowered the mast onto Mañana's deck. We then transferred it to a large inflatable dinghy and ferried it to shore. The whole operation took less than an hour. Mañana's cockpit, which we've always considered large, seemed like a dance floor. On the way back to our own mooring one of us tried to lean against the boom-that-was-no-longer-there. Welcome to your Sloop?

The change to cutter came several months later as we rerigged prior to our departure from Guam. We'd taken what we hoped were precise measurements and had ordered a staysail from a trusted loft in Seattle, our home port. The sail had arrived and, new and shiny, awaited the installation of the stay. As we finished off the last few weeks of our jobs, we awaited the installation of that stay nervously. Would the sail be the correct size? Would it improve Mañana's performance? Was this a crazy idea after all?

One sunny afternoon, the new stay in place, Dave ran the sail up. We both let out a cheer. It fit and it appeared to fill correctly in what little breeze there was in our protected anchorage. We could not say the changes were a success until we had tested our new rig with various wind directions and strengths.

On the day of our departure for Palau, we motored out of the harbor... and kept right on motoring. But the wind is always out there somewhere and between Yap and Palau we found it. For about twelve hours we had ten to twelve knots of wind just forward of the beam. We flew jib, main, and that bright new staysail. As we scooted along at six knots, all sails drawing well, the helm balanced beautifully, we had our answers: Yes, it worked. No, we weren't crazy.

We have since sailed several thousand more miles. With our new rig, we have experienced wind from all quarters, plus head and beam winds up to 35 knots. We have had to make various adjustments to get optimum efficiency from our cutter, but, so far, we've solved all problems.

We had hoped in making these changes to heel less due to less windage. We had also hoped to be able to sail closer to the wind. With 15 knots of wind forward of the beam, when we would in the past have considered reefing due to excessive heeling, Mañana feels more stable. No longer is the lee rail under water. We have also noticed a lessening of leeway. There has been a noticeable improvement in comfort and ability to hold a course to windward.

A very welcome and unexpected advantage of the change to cutter is that we can now keep Mañana moving in only five knots of wind. The greater power provided by the staysail/working jib combination coupled with the reduction in wind-age aloft have given us a better light-air boat.

For us the "dismasting" has been an unqualified success. I'm not saying that everyone with a yacht under 45 feet should dump their mizzenmast. If you use it, keep it. With a stiffer boat it might make more sense than it did on Mañana. If you decide to make such major changes to your sailboat, be sure that you are not expecting too much. Your heavy-displacement ketch cannot be trans-formed into a racing sloop simply by removing the mizzenmast. She will not point 20º higher.

The absence of the mizzen boom has even given us two unexpected bonuses. We've mounted our solar panels on the stern rail and have shortened the arms of the wind vane, making it easier to perform adjustments while underway. And the crew has finally learned to quit trying to lean on that phantom boom!