When Three's Not a Crowd

by Dan & Judy Segal
photographs by Alex Brown [not reproducible - Ed.]

When Haines Hunter, one of Australia's largest powerboat manufacturers, decided to enter the international market, they didn't use a powerboat at all. Instead, they shipped out their first sailboat, the Tramp.

We understand their choice. She's a fine example of forethought in design, good engineering and careful detailing. The Tramp excites us because the designer and builder used good common sense in exploiting the trimaran configuration for room, stability, comfort, and easy handling - rather than out and out speed. She's a daysailer for families with young children.

We doubt, though, that those children will ever outgrow this boat. Make no mistake, the Tramp sails, and sails well. She covers plenty of ground in an hour compared with most daysailers her size. But you have to push her hard before she becomes demanding.

We'll grant that this all sounds much too good to be true. We too were skeptical of the reports coming out of Australia. Speed and stability? Room to swing a cat and easily trailered? There seemed too many conflicting claims; we were eager to see for ourselves when the boats began hitting U.S. shores last fall.

We arranged to borrow a Tramp for two days of camp-cruising (yes, she does that too!) in Biscayne Bay last February. We were well impressed by the time we went ashore. Let's take a closer look.

Tramp was designed by ex-New Zealand engineer Ian Farrier (he now lives in East Brisbane, Australia). Farrier is best known to the marine world for his designs for home-built "Trailertris" of plywood. The Tramp, however, bears little resemblance to these beyond having three hulls and folding. Here's a case where fiberglass construction and production contracts for fittings that would be prohibitively expensive on a custom basis gave a designer the chance to produce a more refined and better-detailed boat than would be reasonable as a one-off.

We would not call Tramp a handsome boat. The by-product of designing volume into a hull that must be narrow on the waterline for performance is that it grows wings just below the sheer line. to house cockpit seats, lockers, and a motor well. Aesthetically, those wings, along with the trampolines, contribute to the trimaran's baser nature. They make her look like a raft; wide, flat, open, rectangular space.

That said, we hasten to point out that you don't notice Tramp looking like a raft when you're aboard her, and especially not when you sail her. Quite the opposite, in fact. You watch the fine, narrow bow of her lee ama, right up there where you can really see it without strain, slicing smoothly and effortlessly through the waves. it's something like those old Navy films of destroyer bows plowing towards Europe. Watching those narrow hulls is a wonderful pastime and, strangely enough, we were more conscious of the fine shape of all Tramp's hulls under way than we were of her broad deck, despite all the obvious elbowroom. We even looked for the steeper waves when we sailed to windward and steered that lee bow right up into them, just so we could watch it power neatly through as if they weren't there. It is an odd way to spend your time on a raft.

Although the entry is fine, Tramp's main hull is rather broad beamed compared with high-speed trimarans. The beam gives Tramp a much higher payload, more volume, and some added stability when the amas (floats) are folded in. Her waterline broadens out amidships for volume in the bilges, then flattens out aft to induce planing, damp pitching, and float crew sitting aft in the cockpit. The main hull carries moderate rocker for maneuverability, being 14 inches deep on an 18-foot 2-inch waterline. A shallow skeg runs down the middle third of her hull to center the Tramp on the trailer, and to save the hull from the abuse of beaching and grounding out. The centerboard slot runs nearly the entire length of the skeg and is strengthened by it. Since there's no ballast, the skeg is also the lowest point in the bilge, made useful by a drain plug in its after end for when Tramp's loaded on the trailer and headed home.

The amas themselves are narrow and rockered like the central hull. They fall into the "submersible" category in terms of volume, meaning that either one of them will float less than the Tramp's full displacement (although the two together will float much more). The idea is that the amas will submerge deeper and deeper into the water as the wind picks up, signaling the crew that it's time to reef. (Remember, you don't have the usual warnings in a tri!) The importers claim that it takes some thirty knots of apparent wind to submerge the leeward ama to its sheer under full sail, and that the first reef should go in at about twenty, so there's room for error.

Both amas rest on the water when the Tramp is stationary, giving the boat tremendous initial stability. We're usually willing to give that up in small boats, equating high initial stability with stodginess under sail. With the trimaran, however, stodginess is hardly a problem. We soon were exploiting her stability to the maximum: tramping about her at anchor as if we were on a dock. Stability at anchor is luxury in a small cruising boat. No more holding the pot on the stove as the crew gets the deck stowed for the night, no more lunging for the soup mugs every time a powerboat passes. Even the cook can go for a stroll while waiting for the kettle to boil. It's enough to make you appreciate the trimaran's raft-like nature.

Under sail, of course, Tramp's stability becomes even more pronounced. She heels a little, ten degrees we'd say; not enough to make a juice can slide on the deck when you tack. Moderate gusts, rather than laying her over, seem to squirt her forward as the leeward ama digs in just a bit more. Her acceleration is smooth, without humps. In the moderate conditions we found in Florida, she just ploughed her two smooth furrows through easy waves of one and two feet. Her motion is pleasant, though somewhat odd; it's not the kind we normally equate with speed in sailing boats. It's too smooth, much easier than we're used to. (What a complaint!) Even in the 18-knot breezes we enjoyed in the early mornings, the Tramp gave little sensation of speed. We had to look at the bow wave swirling past to know that we were traveling very fast indeed.

Of course, Tramp's stability means that you're not rooted in one place on the boat. Under normal conditions, the crew is just crew - not live ballast. You're free to move about the boat under sail, which means simply walking on the Tramp. Her motion is so predictable and stable that you have to remind yourself to hold on while you move. Tramp's stability also means that the crew can congregate wherever they like (though she'll squat if too many crowd the after end of the cockpit). On a hot day, everyone aboard might take advantage of the light spray cooling off the lee netting. Or someone might want to take a nap on the lee cockpit seat. Then too, there's the luxury of not having to change sides when you tack. Sailing on the level has its advantages.

As you might expect, Tramps centerboard is a long, narrow, high-lift, low-drag foil. When it's down she draws four feet. Long, well-designed boards like this do much for any boat's windward performance - witness the 470 or Flying Dutchman - and windward performance is important to the Tramp. After all, her motion doesn’t change as much as a monohull's when going to windward, and she is likely as fast on that point of sail as other boats her size are when reaching, she doesn't heel enough to speak of, and her cockpit stays bone dry; sailing to a windward destination becomes more pleasure than chore. Be that as it may, we like long boards like this in any boat, just to fine-tune the helm. Trimming the centerboard pendant a touch moves the boat's center of lateral resistance aft, dialing out weather helm. Tramp has just the slightest trace of weather helm to begin with, but with a heavy load, such as five adults, three people's camp-cruising gear, and a full complement of photo equipment , her tiller becomes noticeably heavier. But a twitch to the centerboard pendant brings it to neutral again.

We may be harping on Tramp's long centerboard because adjusting it is easier than on many other boats. You see, since Tramp requires no ballast, Farrier designed her foam-filled fiberglass board to be just slightly buoyant. A buoyant board puts no strain on its pendant; the pendant can be led to the head of the board to keep the line out of the water (where it would just slow the boat and hum). Of course, with a buoyant board, you need a second line to hold the board down, a slight complication, but one that puts no strain on the boat or crew. Compare it to wire pendants leading to eight-part tackles leading to winches that you see on some monohulls.

Tramp's centerboard trunk is housed completely under her cockpit sole. The two centerboard pendants exit just abaft the mast step, and the one in use -uphaul or downhaul - belays in a cam cleat just loosely enough that a tug from the board would pull it free. It's a nice arrangement, but we found that we kicked the pendant free a few times by accident, allowing the centerboard to float up ever so slowly.

Tramp sports a similar arrangement on her kick-up rudder. The rudder is also a high-aspect foil of foam-filled fiberglass. It pivots in an aluminum rudderhead and is controlled by two pendants, which belay in a cam cleat on the square-section aluminum tiller. The rudder pivots well above the horizontal to keep it clear when launching or drying out. The dual pendants allow for more freedom in pivoting Tramp's rudder than is found in the usual clamp-down arrangements. It seems a little thing, but the ease of pulling Tramp's foils out of the water makes her easier to launch or to put on the beach. It's one of those details of engineering that you don't notice when it has been done right, as it was here.

Farrier rigged Tramp as a ¾ sloop. The fractional rig places the mast in the most convenient location; at the forward end of the cockpit. It's out of the way there, but mighty handy for a trailer-boat in many ways: Its step is low in the boat so. the mast is above horizontal even before you begin to hoist it; once erect, it is held securely vertical until the forestay is made fast; all the halyards and lifts can be stowed in the mast for trailering just by leading them internally, yet they are ready in the cockpit as soon as the mast is stepped. It's a great time-saver, but still allows most all sail handling from the cockpit.

Of-course, the rig is a sensible one in its own right. Tramp sails fine, even in light air, under her original two sails. No genoa is required; none is listed as an option. Uffa Fox, L. Francis Herreshoff, even Ted Hood have pointed out that there is no hydrodynamic advantage to overlapping headsails - they only developed as unrated sail area (read horsepower) under assorted rules. Such sails are a definite disadvantage if you're not racing, and we're glad to see more and more production builders thawing off the idea that every boat will be handicapped and raced, and thus building craft with more reasonable rigs.

Tramp carries a good bit of sail area for her 1,400 pounds unloaded displacement 137 square feet in the main, 71 in the jib. Yet, with all this horsepower, Tramp feels just a bit stodgy in lighter breezes. Despite the feel, we were able to keep up with a couple of Stars in about eight knots of wind, pointing as high and footing as fast and that was with the Tramp heavily loaded, as described earlier, and before we 'd tuned her rig. But it's when the breeze picks up that the trimaran really starts to shine; in 18 knots she feels as though she is cutting through the water faster than it can fill in behind her.

The two part jib sheets lead inside the shrouds to cam cleats on tracks that are mounted on the forward coaming. The sheeting angle is very small; you need to Barber haul the lead outboard for reaching and running. Of course, those Barber haulers allow considerable athwartships adjustment. They run through bullet blocks on the amas (shackled, to eyes on the. akas) and to cam cleats on the cockpit coaming, as convenient as you could ask. The fine sheeting angle allows for a fine tacking angle. We tacked the Tramp in 75 degrees. We didn't sail her quite so close to the wind in practice though, as the extra speed gained by footing off some five degrees more than made up for the extra distance in most breezes. As the breeze picks up and Tramp’s speed picks up to match, those fine angles will become more important. Her importers report that she's been clocked at some 17 knots in Australia. She'll be making much of her own wind from dead ahead at that speed. Since those Barber haulers lead so far. outboard, you can haul the jib right across the centerline for running, without having to carry a whisker pole.

Tramp's main is the real driver of the rig. Its full battens and seven-foot-wide traveler make it as docile as it is effective. Sail-shape controls are limited to the halyard, sheet, traveler, and boom vang (a $34 option), but you can adjust the draft with the batten ties. Were we to own a Tramp, we'd add a Cunningham and flattening reef to set the draft to suit the breeze.

Of course, Tramp's large main makes her a fine catboat, once you pull the board aft a bit to tune out weather helm. And since the sail is right there in the cockpit with you, you can do some cute little maneuvers under sail. We sailed backwards into her slip by simply holding the main to windward. It was so easy that it didn’t even draw any comments from dockside onlookers. (Of course, the second time we tried it the skipper misjudged and ... well, that's what the fenders were in place for!)

The wide traveler does more to make the main easy to handle than any other feature. We could always adjust just the right amount of twist into the main by varying the sheeting angle. Even on a dead run, we seldom needed much tension in the boom vang, as letting-the traveler car out to its stop eased the boom almost to the shrouds. Then too, the traveler made gybing child's play. By sheeting the main in hard to the car, enough tension is produced so all that was needed was to push the car across the track. It gave us full control of the sail throughout the gybe.

Tramp has plenty of vigor off the wind under main and jib, but we couldn't miss the sheer pleasure of her acceleration under the optional ($736 extra) spinnaker. The chute is specially cut to take advantage of Tramp's beam. We left the pole that comes with it ashore. The spinnaker guys are led through blocks at the bow of each ama, the sheets are led to the sterns, all are belayed in cam cleats on the cockpit coaming. The sail is always under control; as easy to fly as a kite, but with power to make the trimaran scoot! Gybing is simply a matter of gybing the main, with no pole to deal with. Until we set the spinnaker, we never thought of Tramp as underpowered, yet setting 345 square feet of extra sail area shot her along as if someone had turned on the afterburners! We imagined huge rigs and high speeds ... and thanked Farrier again for his common sense.

In fact, more sail area is available in a racing version. Its mast is four feet taller to support 149 square feet of main and 84 square feet of jib, with a 150 square foot genoa as an option. The spinnaker is 420 square feet. With all the extra sail area, running backstays are needed to keep the forestay taut and to support the mast under the chute. Winches are also added to the forward coaming to handle the larger headsails. There are two of these monsters in the country at the time of writing. We'd love to sail one. But were we to buy a Tramp, we'd opt for the standard sail plan; it's fast enough!

We never had the opportunity to sail Tramp in high winds or in any sort of sea. We expect she excels in rough conditions, sailing fast and stable, slicing through chop like a scimitar, yet still keeping her crew dry, calm, and happy. She seems as though she will never alarm her crew, which is something to think about. After all, she is still just an open boat under twenty feet long; it's questionable how much weather would be prudent. Tramp's main comes with two reefs. The first, as we mentioned earlier, goes in at about twenty knots. The second goes in "as soon as you think about it," as the saying goes. In really severe conditions, the main is doused and the Tramp sails on under jib alone.

Tramp's amas and her main hull are divided into several watertight compartments. It's unlikely she will sink, even if holed (or even if the main hull is completely flooded). To date, no Tramp has capsized under sail. One was capsized with a crane to try self-rescue. Designer Ian Farrier folded one set of akas and righted her within a few minutes. We doubt that this would be easy in the sort of extreme conditions it would take to capsize a Tramp, but we repeat: care should be taken to avoid such conditions in any 19-foot open boat.

On the trailer, with her akas sticking up into the air and hinges and bolts exposed, Tramp looks like a complicated machine that will need hours of assembly. But looks are deceiving. All told, one person working alone, shouldn't need more than about twenty-five minutes from untying the mast to leaving the dock, and that includes leading all sheets and guys and hanking on the jib.

For the road, the mast is supported by two fitted crutches; one slipped into the anchor locker forward, the other secured on a transom bracket. Rigging the Tramp is easier than most 19-foot daysailers. The after mast crutch is topped with a rubber roller. To rig, you hook the lower shrouds in the mast (the uppers stay in place), roll the mast aft, drop its fitted foot onto the stainless steel pin that forms the step, and walk the mast up to vertical. Once vertical, an aluminum pin holds it in the coaming while you secure the forestay and snug down the shrouds. Next, the outboard end of the boom is shackled to the topping lift (to support the outboard end) and mainsheet, and the boom is slipped over the gooseneck pin. The mainsail is left flaked onto the boom; at this point you re ready to launch. The only difficult part was walking the mast up to vertical. For anyone smaller or in any breeze, it would have taken a second person, hauling on the forestay.

Once the plugs are screwed into the skeg. and lazarette drains, Tramp is launched with the amas still folded. Since the patented folding system keeps the amas in the water throughout, there's plenty of stability, even with both folded in. To unfold an ama, just pull it's retaining pin, push down the aka, and drive home four bolts (the bolts have shoulders that keep them with the akas ready to be driven). It’s about a two-minute job with the bit and-brace "speed driver' provided with the boat, and takes much less effort than putting up the mast. We did it while motoring away from the dock. The process is easy enough, in fact, that we'd think nothing of doing it twice each day if we kept a Tramp in a slip.

The internal halyards and lifts exit below the coaming to belay in cam cleats on small platforms welded onto the mast. It's a neat and well thought out solution, and the lines are high enough so you can put your foot up and really haul. Plastic spring clips are supplied on both sides of the mast to hang the coiled halyards. It's the sort of detail that we learned to expect of the Tramp.

Tramp's cockpit is huge. It really does seat six people, three per side, without them feeling cramped. And since the tri doesn't heel very much, no one needs to brace himself and the wide cockpit sole remains uncluttered. Between the cockpit and the trampolines, there's space to hold a square dance.

But space isn't all the Tramp's cockpit has to offer. Under the cockpit sole is an icebox large enough to keep a crew of six in supply. It holds some three cases of cold drinks and enough ice to keep them cold for over twenty-four hours. Access to the ice box is through a five inch PYHI inspection port. The port is large enough to get an arm in easily, but you can't see what's in there too well, and dirt quickly clogs the threads, making the port difficult to open or c lose. The icebox drains through another PYHI port into the bilge, where it can be pumped out, or drained through the skeg when the boat's on her trailer.

Sun tends to be a bigger problem for most people daysailing than rain or wind. It isn't a problem on Tramp. A bimini is offered as an $301 option. It may be left up under sail to protect the crew. It folds down either forward or aft, but it is in the way to some degree. When it's not needed, removing it completely by backing out two screws and stowing it under the shelter at the forward end of the cockpit is a better idea.

To keep the cockpit uncluttered, there are storage bins molded in forward and aft. The Tramp we sailed also had optional pockets (an additional $201) along the seats to keep small stuff - sail ties and sun cream, for instance - out of the way but close at hand. We'd certainly add them were we to buy a Tramp.

The helmsman has little back support as the coaming is low aft. The coaming rises as you move forward and offers fine support and protection where it curves in if you put a cushion behind you. Right forward, the coaming forms a limited shelter. The Tramp we sailed had a galley of sorts underneath this "cuddy". It was a waste of space and is no longer offered. Without the galley, a body could shelter against the forward bulkhead on the cockpit sole. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but it would help should conditions warrant it. This shelter makes a great place to stow duffel, though there was usually a little water on the sole forward that had gurgled up from the centerboard trunk. The cockpit bails through two large scuppers in its sides, aft. The scuppers are not far above the waterline, and water can come in through them when the boat rolls at anchor or when a powerboat wake rolls in. Rubber stoppers, supplied with the boat, handily solve that problem.

Since the cockpit seats are in the wings of the hull father than in the hull itself, they contain no lockers. Bulk stowage is relegated to lockers under the foredecks and quarterdecks. There's plenty of it though. The lazarette is large enough to hold half a dozen life jackets, two large fenders, dock lines, a spare anchor and rode, and flotation cushions. It was also chocked off for two different-sized fuel tanks for the outboard, though there was no ventilation at all. The importers argue that many owners won’t stow fuel there, and those who do can have ventilation installed as a dealer option - if they think of it. We suppose that's true, but storing gasoline in an unventilated locker is putting a bomb aboard a boat. It’s not a chance we like to see builders take. The lazarette also had a rather small hatch, which, like the other three lockers that are accessible through the deck, was poorly scuppered and not lockable

Forward (just abaft the forestay), is a self -draining anchor locker. It is fitted for a lightweight-type anchor, but it's large enough to accommodate any style anchor you choose, along with rode. A mooring cleat is mounted just forward of the forestay with a high-cheeked roller for the rode on the stemhead.

The head is in a watertight compartment under a large deck hatch just abaft the anchor locker. Sitting on the portable head there, you have complete privacy from the crew, more privacy (and more ventilation) than in any head enclosed by a curtain or a sheet of 1/2-inch plywood, albeit your head and shoulders are exposed to the world outside your Tramp's crew - but no one would even guess what you're doing there. They'd think you were just enjoying a fine day’s sail. The compartment is narrow enough to brace yourself in place, though not so narrow that it would worry the claustrophobic, and there’s storage in the little shelves formed by the wings of the hull and the larger space underneath the anchor locker. Phil Bolger has put heads under hatches like this in many boats -there's one in the cold-water cruiser in this issue, for instance - but we've never seen one in a production boat before. We've never cruised aboard a boat that had one before either, and always wondered how it would work out in practice. We're pleased to say that it works better than we ever expected; it's worth having a close look at the Tramp just to see! Of course should you not wish to use this compartment for the head, it will take a huge amount of stowage.

The outboard lives in a hole through the port-side wing aft. It's very handy to the helmsman and to the fuel tanks in the lazarette - if an inspection port is put through the side to take the gas line. Since the engine is next to the hull rather than in it, the drive leg can be kicked up under way to get it clear of the water (though the prop drags just a bit on a starboard tack in a good breeze). We lashed the drive leg to the mooring cleat mounted just inboard of the "well" to take the strain off the engine mount when we were under sail. The Tramp can take a motor of four to six horsepower. We expect the larger engine would be best in areas with considerable current as you never have to lift the engine. On the other hand, it doesn't take much to move the Tramp. She's a very maneuverable catboat in close quarters, spinning in her length, and she's close winded. We expect Tramp owners won't use their motors often.

According to the sales brochure, Tramp cruises four. We cruised her for two days with three, taking SBJ Art Director Alex Brown along as Able Seaman.

A one-piece vinyl tent (a $1,068 option which includes the bimini) blankets the bimini (which supports it) and snaps around the cockpit coaming. A velcro seam allows it to go around the mast, though we’d guess the tent will leak slightly forward in a heavy rain. We expect it would take about five minutes to set up the tent; it took us longer, but we had a boat set-up for an older-style tent than the one we were given. Once up, the tent has about five feet of headroom.

The tent has plastic windows forward (for motoring in the rain?) and screened windows on the sides and back. Most of its after end unzips to form a large companionway that angles to allow easy access and standing room at the after end of the cockpit. That's great for the cook. We set a two-burner stove on the flat running down the center line of the quarterdeck, used the lazarette hatch as a work space, and the outboard well as a sink. The cook stood in the cockpit or sat on one of the seats tending pots, and there was still plenty of space either side for the others to come and go. It was camp-cruising in style, with more elbowroom and privacy than we would expect of cabin boats in the same size or price range. When you sit out on the trampoline, you feel alone even with two others in the tent. Next time we cruise a Tramp, we'll bring a folding table to set up in the cockpit (lashed to one of the trampolines under way, we expect). With all that space and freedom from rolling, it seems a shame not to set a proper table aboard to cap off the day's adventure.

Cushions (an additional $216) snap to the cockpit seats. The berths they form are long singles, but, they are uncomfortably narrow across the shoulders. Were we to buy a Tramp, we'd add fold-up berth extensions. For another $295, you can buy four cushions that turn the cockpit sole into a wide and spacious single or a narrow double. Leakage around the mast could turn this into a damp berth, and the cushions are hard to stow (we stowed them in the head), but they seem a worthwhile option should you want to cruise with children. The trampolines also make fine berths on clear, warm nights, or in less pleasant weather with bivouac sacks should you have more in your crew. Of course, you could nose onto a beach and set up a camp. It seems that Tramp might overcome one of the biggest problems of beach cruising in tidal areas; you could carry a small canoe lashed inboard an ama. There's plenty you can do when you have this much space and stability to work with.

For multihulls to sail well, they must be light and stiff. That's not an uncommon problem for any designer these days, but Farrier also had to design Tramp's construction around production methods comfortable to Haines Hunter production and labor.

Tramp is built with a Coremat core surrounded by layers of chopped strand mat and cloth either side. The hull is 5/16 inch thick Unidirectional glass, woven roving and metal plates are added to the laminate where spreading stress is necessary. Fiberglass bulkheads are webbed into place in way of the akas, chain plates, and mast step.

The akas and folding mechanism are 6061 T6 aluminum; pivot bolts and anchoring bolts are stainless steel. The hinges incorporate nylon bushings.

Tramp costs $15,021 FOB Houston or Miami. The racing version is $16,176. A special trailer is an additional $935.

That sounds like a lot of money for a 19-foot daysailer. But Tramp offers considerably more than most 19 footers in terms of space, stability, features, and speed. We can't think of another boat to compare her with, though we'll likely compare many boats with Tramp in the future.

Credits: SMALL BOAT JOURNAL June/July 1983 (received from Roger Engle)