1971 Marieholm International Folkboat

by John C. Harris “If I were young, I would get a Folkboat, a sweep, drink my beer warm, and go.”

“If I were young, I would get a Folkboat, a sweep, drink my beer warm, and go.” The quote is attributed to Gordon Yates. Many years ago I was young enough to take the advice. I bought a 26-foot fiberglass Marieholm International Folkboat with a moldering interior, ragged sails, and green things sprouting in the cockpit. It took me about a year to strip the boat to a bare shell and set her up just so.

A committee in Sweden issued the specifications for the original Folkboat in 1941, following an inconclusive design contest. In spite of being a bit old-fashioned even at the time, the resulting design was wildly successful. As happens with committees who accidentally get something right, litigation ensued over ownership of the design. The quarrel continues to this day, but Tord Sunden actually drew the plans and is most likely responsible for the evergreen Folkboat’s look and feel.

There have been many Folkboat variants. Tord Sunden is the undisputed designer of mine, built in Sweden in 1971. Marieholm’s “IF Boat” features a larger interior and rig and a smooth (non-lapstrake) fiberglass hull. Mine was among a flock imported to Annapolis in the 1970s to race in PHRF classes. To this day, local yachties recall being eaten alive on corrected time by the slippery, narrow IF Boats.

I was broadly aware of the IF Boat’s reputation for speed and handiness, but cracky! The 5400-pound, full-keeled 26-footer with a 19'10" waterline length was a thoroughbred. It’s certainly the most delightful keelboat I’ve ever helmed. With a skinny waterline beam, the IF Boat is a brilliant weapon for the light air and messy chop of the Chesapeake Bay. Horizon-jobs on much larger modern sloops were common.

In heavy air, the 59% ballast ratio and fractional sloop rig made the boat ready for anything. I’d been brought up to believe that overhanging spoon bows were an outdated affectation, and some of those do pound you silly. She heeled readily, but the convex waterlines forward acted like a leeward sponson, lifting the bow to ease the helm and add stability when it was needed most. The Folkboat is certainly the only boat in my experience that accelerates as she heels, and there was never a hint of weather helm. And then there was her motion under way: an easy, loping gallop. Magic!

Such were her charms that without a twinge of regret or apprehension, I soon left the outboard motor ashore, plugged the aperture, and sailed for years in and out of all sorts of tight spots under sail alone. I never got stuck.

Sailing upwind in any kind of sea was like standing in a firehose, so my boat had a tall dodger, and weather-cloths in the cockpit as if I was just back from a long crossing. And on days when my back was aching, the tiny sitting-headroom interior could remind me of living in a sewer pipe. •SCA•

From issue #119