“Every point of sailing suggests an appropriate and different form of hull. The

shape that is well adapted for one kind of weather is ill adapted for another sort;

vessels that move as by magic in light airs may be of little use in a whole sail

breeze; one that is by no means a flier in smooth water may be very hard to beat

in a seaway.

 

In short, a vessel must be light enough to be driven easily by a moderate breeze,

stiff enough to stand up to her canvas in a hard wind, shallow enough to be

docked with ease and to run with speed. She must have depth enough to hold her

up to windward, breadth enough to give her stability; she should be long enough

to reach well, and short enough to turn well to windward; low in the water so as

not to hold too much wind, with plenty of freeboard to keep the sea off her decks.

 

The satisfaction of any one requirement necessitates something antagonistic to

some other requirement equally clamorous for satisfaction. Your vessel, to be perfect,

must be light, of small displacement, and with the centre of gravity brought very

low; she must also have large displacement, and the ballast must not be too low, in

order that she may be easy in a seaway; she must be broad, narrow, long, short,

deep, shallow, tender, stiff.

 

She must be self-contradictory in every part. A sailing

yacht is a bundle of compromises, and the cleverest constructor is he who, out of a

mass of hostile parts, succeeds in creating the most harmonious whole.

It is not strange that designers pass sleepless nights, and that anything like finality

and perfection of type is impossible to conceive. No wonder that yacht designing is

a pursuit of absorbing interest.”

Lord Dunraven, challenger for the 1893 and 1895 America’s Cups.