The thought-provoking What Boat? thread on the Forum examines what is the right size of boat to sail round the world. There seem to be two distinct schools of thought. One: you need a big boat (and a big budget) to provide all the comforts of home. A generator to power the deep freeze, the sat phone and so on, and a watermaker for unlimited showers are seen as essentials. The alternative view is that true adventure is to be found in a small, no frills boat. Robin Knox-Johnston's pioneering 32-foot ketch Suhaili was pretty spartan, after all.
As always, there are truths on both sides. One advantage of a smaller, basic boat is that there is less to go wrong - and it's easier to put right, if it does. Everything is more manageable. A larger boat will be more comfortable, in every sense. But is it misguided to think that bigger automatically means better.
Having recently moved up from 33 to 40 feet, we appreciate having more space, more home comforts and improved sailing performance. Speed isn't everything, but higher passage speeds make it easier to stay out of bad weather, a friend who has recently completed the Atlantic circuit points out. And a bigger boat is a more stable working platform when it does get rough.
But nothing comes without a cost. The bigger boat, with deeper draft and needing more swinging room, simply does not fit in some of the anchorages we used to enjoy.
And the taller mast means we no longer fit under the fixed road bridges of the Dutch Delta, one of our favourite cruising grounds.
We are also much more cautious about throwing up the spinnaker than we used to be, because it can be quite a handful to take down. The two-up spinnaker gybe, which we had down to a fine art on the Sigma, is out of the question. We wouldn't swap back, for all that. But in the race for ever bigger boats - have you noticed how common 48 and 50 footers are becoming? - are we in danger of losing the plot?
Smaller craft can enjoy thousands of picturesque harbours and anchorages out of reach of bigger boats, and are far less addicted to shore power in expensive marinas. Their owners can also spend more time sailing, and less maintaining complex systems.
Going back to the round the world question, it could be argued that a lot of older, more compact designs - the Contessa 32, or the Rustler, for example - are far more solidly built and sea kindly, and might look after you better, than some of today's production cruisers, designed with spacious accommodation as top priority.
It's all a question of horses for courses. I was once lucky enough to sail on an Oyster 66, combining true luxury accommodation and impressive sailing performance with such added refinements as hydraulic sail controls, plumbed in washing machine and tumble drier, and a refrigerated cockpit table designed to take four cases - yes, 48 bottles - of champagne. She would be fabulous for hosting a glamorous party in Cannes or Antigua, and superb for crossing oceans, but no use at all for the sort of cruising most of us do.
So the question: “how big is the ideal boat?” is one every one of us would probably answer differently. I salute the spirit of adventure of those who want to sail round the world in a Contessa 26 or a Corribee, and wish them every luck. But I'm probably more of a generator and water-maker type myself.
