Why a Dana 24?

I wanted something small enough that I could singlehand but comfortable enough that I could anchor out on the weekends and judge if you will, a bathroom was and still is, important to me. This put me squarely in pocket-cruiser territory and I was rooting for a Norsea 27. I looked at several in varying degrees of decline before I came across the Dana. A friend, sailing instructor, and fellow Dana owner went through her with a fine toothed comb and declared that while I didn’t have to get her, I wasn’t going to find anything in better condition. The engine died on three separate sea trials. I had never singlehanded anything larger than a laser. When we went to get her and my friend said we could do a sail change on the roller furler underway and my confidence was so meek I barely protested (an important lesson was learned that day). I didn’t realize that “good condition” meant that while nothing (um, except the engine) was actively broken, pretty much everything needed to be replaced, effectively doubling the price of the boat. If I had to do it all over again I don’t know that I would make a different choice. You have to cut your teeth somewhere and no matter which boat you get, you will learn a ton.

Knowing what I know now, I would pay more to get a boat in great condition then try to get a “deal” and do tons of work. These years later, I have almost no FOMO. Wooden boats constantly leak, little race boats are no fun to anchor out in, aren’t meant for the ocean races I so enjoy, and are super uncomfortable in all the bay chop we get all summer.  You usually have to go much bigger to get standing headroom and I don’t want to dock anything much bigger than this under sail.  The only boats I ever really dream about are just about all of Chuck Paine’s boats (totally impractical but so beautiful), a crazy little Hobie for racing and the PSC Orion 27 which has a much better layout for long cruises and only draws 3 more inches with another foot across in beam. 

All in all, the Dana was a perfect first boat. She let me do everything so damn slowly until I got it right. She didn’t care if it took me forty minutes to leave the dock after all her lines were set. She patiently let me work through my fears and anxieties and dawdling. She didn’t care if I didn’t get something right on the first pass. With a max speed of 6 knots and literal tons of ballast, we have plenty of time to figure out a second approach to anything. We have plenty of time for everything- hoist the main, unfurl the jib, pull up the fenders before we get past those yacht club windows, plan our approach, and inch and bob our way to whatever we are trying to get to. Sometimes she moves so slowly the tables are turned and I get a taste of my own medicine. There is time for all of it. She never makes me feel like she’s going to dump me off the side or like we are going to split at the seams. She is an excellent and fair teacher if there ever was one. She doesn’t yell at me and I don’t yank at her and we do just fine.

Our bills are small, projects small, dockings easy, sails light, and accommodations top notch and there is always a slip in the harbor at her length or a spot to anchor right next to shore. We don’t need a motor (every if it is sparkling now) or to wait on crew to go out, we aren’t put off by the weather and are never slammed by chop. We never want for a finely cooked meal and the cabin can be heated to a comfortable temperature in a matter of minutes. Standing headroom is a godsend and more than makes up for the fact that she can’t be steered in reverse. She’s dry as a bone and she’ll outlive me if I take care of her. She is the epitome of life being about the journey and not the destination. 

With a PHRF of 242 she is a little piglet and I love her for that. I’ve raced on Santanas 22 and I can’t wait to get back to the dock to dry off and warm up. I’ve raced on big ocean racers and am so glad I am not getting the bill when something in yanked and torn or cracked. I often visit a 29 ft and am so glad I am not trying to dock her under sail. Dry and stable, simple and stout, she is everything I wanted and more. More storage, more comfortable, more sail area, more forgiveness for mistakes made and more pleasant surprises. But most of all, she is my little haven, my little den. She is my safe place where I could cut my teeth in peace and with love and excitement. She’s really the teacher that  gave me the grace and shelter to keep going and that is the best quality you can ask for in a boat.