Toy Sailboat Design: An Unnecessary Rant

A Scholarly and Serious Op-Ed

As a sailing family with three kids, we’ve had our share of plastic and wooden sailboat toys come through our house. Whether it’s a colorful Fisher Price sailboat with holes for two crew, or a molded bathtub cruiser with hard plastic sails permanently set, we’ve seen almost all of them.

I try not to judge the designs too harshly. After all, most toy designers probably aren’t sailors. Instead they are creating the toy based on the archetypical “sailboat” of their minds. And as we learned when we asked A.I. to draw sailboats for us, even computers drawing upon the vast knowledge of the Internet struggle to conceptualize proper sail area distribution, center of effort, functional hull shapes, etc.

But what gets me is just how bad most of the designs are. It seems odd that these toy designers’ intuitions could be so far off. Even worse is how many of these little boats—ostensibly built to sail in the bathtub or at the local pond—capsize voluntarily almost immediately. It’s no wonder some kids grow up scared of the sea—if their plastic yacht turns turtle at the first soapy splash, what are they to conclude about boats generally?

My kids have outgrown the bathtub toys (as far as I know), so I won’t have to suffer again until perhaps grandkids, but someone needs to institute strict new standards—maybe even demand tank testing. Too many of these toys are manifestly unfit.

Consider these “toy sailboats” for example:

This one has plenty of sail area, but I worry about crew’s visibility with those deck-sweeping sails, and will she standup to this much canvas with that narrow beam?

This red “sailboat” appears to offer decent accommodations, but seems a wee under-canvassed and, let’s be honest, her powerboat lines aren’t the most romantic. Is that deck-stepped mast really unstayed? Good news: these boats are available in a 3-pack.

I’ve no big problem with these little catamarans. Probably fairly stable, and though the wooden masthead floats present excessive windage, I expect they will keep the boat from turtling in the tub.

While I admire the stout bulwarks and shippy bow, the sail area is..um..underwhelming and the mast scantlings feel excessively robust.

Credit to this toy designer for having just enough passing nautical knowledge to include common sailing motifs like a flag, grommets, and knots. Unfortunately this vessel won’t sail where you point it, and will likely capsize and drown all its toy crew almost immediately.

Nothing too terribly wrong with the skiff hull, but lord knows they could use more sail area.

Sad to say this may be one of the best so far. It just might float. Is that a full-length batten near the foot? This one spares no expense for performance. I do hope the new owner epoxy-coats that end grain before launch.

I give you….the Sea Bird. Oops, no, that’s just what it says on the headsail. The boat is actually named Sail Boat. A good choice since it’s helps to clear some things up. Call me an optimist, but I feel like my kids might be have been able to get this one sailing in the tub. Sure, the wheels will create some drag, and I’m confident this one fills up with water slowly, but if the worst comes at least there are rails and pulpit for terrified crew to cling to. Nobody said competing in the Global 38 was easy.

So many of these toy boats lack any lateral resistance at all—skiddering aimlessly. Well, this DIY full-keeled wooden model is almost certain to track like a rollercoaster. Set a couple of headsails on her twin forestays and this one would go downwind better than lawn furniture.

Speaking of wooden toys, I’m not sure what exactly is going on here. I’m expecting poor balance. That too-small plywood sail lacks the necessary camber and would be a real bear to manage in a blow. The bollard-style lifeline stanchions look hell-for-stout, but then why pair them with breakable jute twine lifelines? Nothing would be quite as humiliating as having your bucking plywood mains’l slam you right through your jute lifelines and into the cruel sea.

And finally, let’s have a closer look at the Jalor motorsailer. Are you wanting to drift downwind while you fish? Just set the Jalor’s 8 square feet of sail and mind your ribcage. Or maybe you’d rather get to your destination sooner by powering your way there on the Jalor’s 800-horsepower outboard. Just sit down in the (very) aft bench seating and stare at the sky as you race your way to the next fishing hole.

—Josh Colvin

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