Building Steel Dreams
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ROW17, SEAT C IS ABOUT HALFWAY BACK ON THE
seemingly ancient Boeing 727 that is American
Airlines Flight 923, now boarding for a flight
from Miami International to Guatemala City.
As I settle into my seat for the trip to Central
America, I see it will be a full flight, along with
the inevitable confusion of filled overheads and
shortened tempers of the late-boarding passengers.
The language barrier doesn’t help,
either, as I hear a mix of Spanish, English, and
German among those lingering in the aisles.
I wonder why so many people are traveling to
such a far-off, exotic land. Guatemala…even the name is exotic. Centrally located between
Mexico, El Salvador, Honduras, and Belize, it is
a small country roughly the size of Tennessee, at
the geographic center of the North and South
American continents. Guatemala is known for its
rich local culture, numerous volcanoes, and
colonial cities from generations ago, and
contains some of the world’s most virgin jungles
and breathtaking mountain lakes.
I know why I am there, sitting next to yacht
broker Joe Johnson in this emergency exit row.
Boat designer Jay Benford is also on the plane,
seated by a window a few aisles ahead of us.
We three are headed to Mayan territory—an
exotic land that brings to mind colorful local
art, guerrilla fighters, and intense tropical
scenery. Not exactly the place where one
expects to see boat building.
But boat building is what we’ve come to
see.
The aging aircraft gains altitude as it follows
the chain of islands that make up the Florida
Keys. I know the plane is vintage because the
emergency card in the seat pocket in front of
me shows a man and woman demonstrating
the procedures who are clearly from another time: he has long sideburns, and her hair is a
frightful, poofy thing I haven’t seen for years.
Their dress is also, well, let’s just say it is from
the era when flight attendants were known as
“stewardesses.”
Ocean Reef passes to the left as I gaze out the
window. A short time later, the captain reports
from the flight deck that we’re soon to be
passing over Cuba. Imagine that! I never realized
that Americans fly routinely over airspace
allegedly belonging to the “Bearded One.”
As I contemplate this unexpected twist, Joe
Johnson begins telling me about the man I’ll
meet once we arrive in the country. Aquiles
Faillace is a very successful businessman, a
trained engineer whose family has built a
diverse business empire in Guatemala.
Aquiles (pronounced “Achilles”) owns and
operates, among other ventures, the steel boat
yard started by his grandfather, located some 45
minutes outside of Guatemala City. The yard has
a substantial background building ferry boats,
commercial fishing boats, even a fleet of truck
trailers for transporting sugar cane.
As Joe tells it, Aquiles fell in love with Jay
Benford’s Florida Bay Coaster, a salty minifreighter
designed as the ultimate gunkholing
liveaboard. Several were built in steel over the
years, and they continue to cruise comfortably.
A project well within the capability of his
commercial boatyard, Aquiles decided to build
himself a Coaster.
However, as so often happens with these
personal projects, especially when driven by an
accomplished, savvy businessman alert for new opportunities, the project grew in scope. It now
represents another business effort of the Faillace
corporate group, albeit a personal one: To build
steel Coasters to the Benford design, as well as
other capable motorboats for sale to the trawler
market, particularly in the U.S.
Joe Johnson explained Aquiles represents the
new businessmen of Guatemala, trying hard to
move beyond the country’s years of civil unrest
in a nation that now enjoys, among those
countries in the Caribbean Basin, a GNP second
only to Mexico.
He continued to hit me with such information
as the pilot prepared to land us, somewhere
under all those thick, dark clouds.
Guatemala City
The Boeing 727 came in hot through the cloud
cover, which Joe said was necessary as
Guatemala City is located among 11 volcanoes,
on a plateau situated at high elevation. A
traditional descent in a slow, long glide path is
just not an option coming in through these peaks.
The remains of Hurricane Keith provided a
magnificent cloudscape in the late afternoon sun,
as we corkscrewed down, finally breaking through
to find a wide, green terrain coming up fast.
We bumped and ground our way down the runway to the terminal, where we effortlessly
passed through immigration, collected our bags,
and headed out through a crowd of beggars all
set to work the arriving crowd. Aquiles’ men
were there to meet us and soon ushered us by
minivan to the Hotel Stofella in downtown
Guatemala City.
After checking in to this locally owned and
quaint hotel, Joe Johnson and I scouted the
nearby area for dinner. We had received a stern
warning from the hotel manager to stay close
by, and to stay together. An unfortunate aspect
of change and growth in Central America is that
local crime remains ever-present, as the
economic abyss between the haves and the
have-nots is as wide as ever. Armed hotel
guards, armed policemen, and armed security
are everywhere, not something one is used to in
the U.S. It does give one pause.
We found a sidewalk table at a club around
the corner, and the European influence of the
area was striking. We were obviously too early
for serious dining, as the locals prefer a more
continental schedule. But we ordered some hors
d’oeuvres and enjoyed the local beer, Gallo
(pronounced “Guy-oh”). Then we watched the
growing crowd of young, upwardly mobile men
and women join our ranks, arms flailing in
discussion and laughter, wine glasses sharing
table space with handheld computers and
digital phones.
To add a little reality, a young beggar came
by, no more than 12 years old, and hit each of
the outdoor tables, a reminder of the harsh polar
reality of Central America.
Further display of the recent civil unrest came
later that night as I woke to the sound of
gunfire, followed by laughter among friends,
apparently also enjoying their Gallo.
On To The Coasters!
Jay Benford, Joe Johnson, and I met early the
next morning assembling in the lobby for the
start of our trek to see two just-launched Florida
Bay Coasters. The trip would require a
helicopter ride from Guatemala City east to the
Gulf of Honduras in the Caribbean Sea, to the
deepwater port of Puerto Barrios.
Aquiles’ men arrived to transport us to the
airport, where we were introduced to his
helicopter pilot, a retired Guatemalan Air Force
officer commanding great respect from all we
met during the next few days.
I learned the helicopter is the vehicle of
choice to reach across a land of mountains,
forests, and an undeveloped infrastructure. This
Bell Jet Ranger was just big enough for the four
of us and our luggage, and as we strapped
ourselves in the pilot started the mechanical,
noisy beast.
I could verify on his instruments that our
altitude on the ground at Guatemala City was
already a mile above sea level. Once we lifted
off we would head east, down across the
mountains and rich valleys to reach Puerto
Barrios, a deepwater port on the Bay of Amatique in the Caribbean Sea. That was where
the two Florida Bay Coasters now were. One
was a completed 42-footer, the other a 60-foot
Coaster still under construction.
At 200 feet above the ground, we crossed the
sweeping streets of Guatemala City, a huge
metropolis of several million people and
thousands of buildings, sprawling outward for
miles from the colonial heart of the city.
Row after row of buildings and warehouses
soon dropped behind us, as we now flew over
dense forest—hills so thick with vegetation that
no road or house could possibly take root. (The
name Guatemala comes from a Mayan word for
“Land of the Trees.”)
The swirling beat of the copter’s blades shook
furiously as we moved through patches of
colder air, the variation in air density causing a
great shudder inside the airframe. Looking out
the thin plexiglass window, I watched as we
rode among the clouds at high altitude, even
though we remained only several hundred feet
above the mountainous terrain below.
I noted our airspeed at 94 knots on the GPS,
and recorded that the altitude of both our
helicopter and the terrain below dropped a
thousand feet or so every 20 minutes. And the
terrain changed considerably as we journeyed
eastward, thick-forested mountains and hills
dipping up and down, an occasional hamlet or
road cutting a path through the open landscape.
These highlands gradually gave way to
sweeping valleys, and the pilot eventually
picked up the mud-reddened Montagua River,
over which we continued our journey at an
altitude of now just 3,000 feet. Joe Johnson
pointed out the two-lane road that runs parallel
to the river and told Jay and I that Aquiles must
truck each boat down this road to reach the sea
at Puerto Barrios. It is the downside of building
boats at 5,200 feet above sea level. (Come to
think of it, this must be some kind of world
record, building boats at the same altitude as
Denver, Colorado.)
We soon crossed fields of tobacco, watermelon,
and lemon. Our altitude steadily dropped as we
flew over the southern shore of Lake Izabel and a
shoreline dotted with thatched-roof buildings and
homes. The lake is 30 miles long and surrounded
by tropical growth. It is the largest lake in the country, and its fresh water connects to the sea via
the Rio Dulce, a winding river running through
high gorges carved over endless centuries.
At the narrow eastern entrance of the lake is
Castillo de San Felipe, a classic Spanish fort whose
occupants fought regularly with British pirates. We
flew circles around this landmark, markedly
conspicuous among the surrounding wilderness.
Now fully restored, the fort is a stark reminder of
the notorious history of this land.
The famed Rio Dulce was next under us, a
gorgeous river connecting Lake Izabel to the
Caribbean Sea at the town of Livingston. It is no
surprise that the Rio Dulce is a popular cruising
ground for sailors and trawlermen alike, and we
flew over dozens of cruisers living the good life,
in marinas along the shore or at anchor nearby.
The pilot brought the chopper down below
the steep walls lining the river, and we skimmed
the river as we flew over Mayan fishermen in
long, skinny boats. These brightly colored boats
are modern interpretations of the dugout canoe,
but many are now powered by outboard.
Mile after mile our remarkable ride continued,
until around one sweeping bend of the river we
passed directly over the Florida Bay Coasters,
heading upriver to greet us among the gorges of
the Rio Dulce. It was quite a sight from the air,
and after we circled the boats a few times, the
pilot took us a few miles farther to land at the town
of Livingston, at the edge of the Caribbean Sea.
It’s Coaster Time
Aquiles Faillace greeted us in Livingston as Jay
Benford, Joe Johnson, and I extricated ourselves
from the Jet Ranger, and we were quickly
transferred to a waiting launch for the short ride
back to the Coasters.
The owners of the 42-foot Coaster planned to
leave for Florida immediately after our visit.
They were onboard, provisioned, and ready to
go. The 60-foot Coaster would stay in Puerto
Barrios until its interior was completed. Then it,
too, would come to the U.S. for inspection.
As we headed upriver Aquiles told us
Livingston is the only black community in
Guatemala, a result of the British colonial effort.
When the British left, it is told, the people were
given the choice to stay, which they did. They
went on to create their own special community,
complete with their own version of Catholicism
and language. Livingston is a quiet town, a
perfect place to relax, as the only access to it is by boat…or helicopter, in our case.
As we sped up the Rio Dulce, Aquiles, who
has traveled the world and speaks five
languages, remarked that north of the river was
once the domain of the British Empire, and the
southern part of his country was occupied by
the Spanish. His lips drew tight as he
commented that the British came to stay,
building roads, buildings, bridges—while the
Spanish came to Guatemala to loot, plunder,
and destroy. The history of Central America
includes a bitter and sometimes bloody phase of
exploitation by Europeans.
We boarded the 60-foot Coaster and enjoyed
breakfast on the upper deck of the trawler,
while our host told of the rich history of the
Guatemalan and Mayan culture. The backdrop
of miles of tropical splendor filled the soul as
the Coaster continued past the steep cliffs
bordering our passage on the Rio Dulce.
Once far from Livingston, we passed Mayan
huts on the the riverbank, the Mayan people
leading a simple existence of fishing and…just
living. No outboards, just simple paddles and
dugout. Time stands still for these people.
The sun danced on the cliffs as we viewed
them from the water, sometimes exploding with
bright white contrast to the rich green vegetation
clinging to the steep sides of the river.
We later reboarded the small boat for some
further exploration at high speed. As we got
close to the developed and populated areas
near the El Relleno Bridge, I learned the Rio
Dulce is a favorite vacation getaway for
Guatemalans from the city. Seems they all have
large, fast motoryachts docked behind their
weekend homes, and the riverbank started
looking more like Fort Lauderdale to me than
Fort Lauderdale…and cleaner.
“They like them big, white, and fast,” Aquiles
said with a smile as we
passed the weekend
residences, gliding by
dozens of white express
yachts tied behind impressive
shoreside homes.
The fresh water of the
river is home for alligators
and snakes, but it seemed
more inviting somehow
than Floridian waters,
which have those critters
but lack the South Pacific
feel of thatched-roof
gazebos and boat houses,
all tended to perfection.
The day trip up the Rio
Dulce offered a unique
view of Guatemala’s cultural
diversity, contrasting the
simple existence of the
Mayans and their canoes
with the polished white
speedboats and modern
sophistication of people
from the city.
One Unique 42-Footer
I later spent some time
aboard the 42-foot Florida
Bay Coaster. Jay Benford’s
design is a funky, rugged,
three-stateroom boat that
offers incredible living
accommodations in a boat
only 42 feet long.
The purpose of the series,
according to Joe Johnson,
American representative of Florida Bay Boat Works, is to create a rugged,
shoal draft, liveaboard coastal cruiser.
“Most people interested in these boats,” Joe
said, “want to spend lots of time on the boat and
the water. They think of it more as a movable
home and a great way to explore rivers and
protected waterways.”
The design shape includes a flat bottom in the
center of the hull to give a stable, almost bargelike
motion. This shape gives great initial
stability, and the boat lifts in moderate beam
seas rather than rolling.
The hull form is beachable and, since it is
constructed in steel, makes for safe running in
rivers and marshes where junk and other debris
may come in contact with the hull.
(Joe Johnson tells of another steel boat he
sold a couple who ran it up the Mississippi River
at flood tide to get it home on the Arkansas
River. The couple saw tops of houses, even
abandoned cars, come downriver, as well as all
kinds of flotsam they tried to avoid but could
not always do so. But they never worried about
their steel hull.)
Steel or not, beachable or not, there is no
doubt whatsoever the Florida Bay Coaster
stands out, with a profile reminiscent of straw
hats and African Queen adventure.
Aboard The 42-Footer
Normal entry is via port and starboard gates
onto the aft deck, the sole of which is 14 inches
above the water. This makes for perfect access
from a dinghy or floating dock but is less
convenient from a taller pier. There are also side
gates on the upper boat deck, but they are quite
a bit higher.
The aft cockpit is more than eight feet long
and fully covered by the overhead boat deck.
Headroom is a minimum of 6' 8", but closer to
seven feet in most places. Bulwarks are 42
inches high on the aft cockpit for protection,
and a 34-inch-wide transom door lowers to form
a swim platform.
A fixed vertical ladder goes up to the boat
deck and its own covered lounge area.
There are no side decks on the Coaster from
the aft cockpit forward, but there are side decks
on the upper deck. These upper side decks are
more than 28 inches wide, and one can walk to
the foredeck or aft deck at this level, which is
also entirely covered.
And there’s more. Stairs built into the
starboard side of the upper house lead from the
upper deck up to yet another deck level—a third deck—which is the real boat deck. It might
be considered a roof in anything other than a
boat, and is where the dinghy is stored,
antennas are located, and where one finds the
dry stack for the exhausts.
The boat is a real triple-decker.
On the foredeck, I measured 10 feet from the
front of the pilothouse windows to the bow,
which is 9' 6" from the water. The water seems
a long way off from the bow, so the anchor is
fitted close to the water. The traditional bow
roller arrangement would wreak havoc on the
anchoring scope calculation!
Saloon/Galley
Open the 30-inch-wide saloon door on the aft
cockpit and the first thing one notices is
Honduran mahogany, with tongue-and-groove
overhead of lighter Central American hardwood.
Initial impression is that of an old-world yacht or
gentlemen’s study. The dark feel is only
momentary, as one’s eyes adjust to the light, and
light-colored carpeting helps to brighten the
otherwise dark treatment.
The saloon measures 8 feet long by 15 feet
wide, as there are no side decks at this level to rob from the interior. Headroom is at least 6' 6"
in the boat.
To port is an L-shaped settee, and rich built-in
cabinets on the saloon’s aft bulkhead provide
storage for an entertainment center, books,
artwork, and all kinds of liveaboard essentials—
such as the Director’s Cut video of the classic
film of 2000, The Chad That Ate Palm Beach.
On the saloon’s starboard side is a fixed
dining table with free-standing chairs. Forward
of the table is a locker that houses a stacked
washer and dryer.
Four opening windows (all windows and
ports on the Florida Bay Coaster are either
Diamond SeaGlaze or Freeman) bring light into
the saloon, but it remains a bit darker than most
contemporary interior treatments, even all-teak
interiors of years past.
“I’ll have my Scotch neat, thank you,” your
gentleman friend requests, as he sits back in his
swim trunks and robe…and ascot.
The galley is U-shaped and includes a large
single sink, domestic electric stove and oven,
microwave, dishwasher, and full-sized
refrigerator and freezer.
(Designer Benford has long been an advocate
of liveaboard cruising boats that make no
pretense at offshore voyaging. His boats typically trade seaworthy, knockdown-ready
interiors for full-sized domestic appliances and
systems. Considering the liveaboard, gunkholing
intent of the Coaster design, I believe his
philosophy fits this boat just fine.)
Forward Accommodations
There is a complete head just forward of the
galley on the port side, and it includes an
enclosed, tiled stall shower, toilet, and vanity.
The granite vanity countertop is a nice touch.
Opposite the head is a guest cabin and the
door down to the engine room.
This guest cabin is small by any standards, but
offers two 6-foot-long by 26-inch-wide bunks.
The cabin should be fine for weekend guests,
but that’s it.
The forward stateroom is in the forepeak, but
with the Florida Bay Coaster emphasis on
maximum accommodations, the cabin is large
and spacious. Four opening, 10-inch ports and a
large overhead hatch bring in light and
ventilation.
The queen-sized island bed (using a domestic
queen mattress) allows walkaround on both
sides. The lower portion of the platform has
wide drawers for clothes storage.
I counted no fewer than 20 drawers and cabinets in this stateroom, and living aboard
here will never approach camping. Even the 30-
inch-wide hanging locker is full height.
Some nits: Cabinet doors throughout the
Coaster are held closed by magnetic or spring
clips, as one finds at home. But this is a boat,
and boats move. If the Coaster were to roll
deeply, for any reason, there would be all hell
to pay. Doors and lockers would open by
simple gravity, or the weight of the locker
contents.
Engine Room
Located just forward of the galley but on the
starboard side, a large door opens to spiral stairs
down into the engine room space. At the
bottom of the steps, one can stand up, then sit
down on the last step to work. This space
serves as the main electrical control area, with panels for the ship’s 12VDC and 120VAC service.
Headroom is 52 inches.
Forward of this space is the boat’s utility
room, with pumps, workbench and seat, tool
storage, parts locker, and plenty of room for
heaters, filters, inspections ports, and waster and
water valves and plumbing.
This is a great feature on a 42-foot boat, and
if only there were a few more inches of
headroom I’d be ecstatic. The flat bottom is
quite evident here, and useful given the
headroom. If I could trade an inch or two of
saloon headroom, I’d spend hours putzing in
this work room.
Back at the bottom of the stairs, one finds a
large dogged door into the engine space.
Power for the boat is supplied by a pair of
Deere PowerTech 4045 diesel engines. The fourcylinder
engines are rated at 85 horsepower
each, connected to ZF Hurth marine gears.
A 20 kW Mack Boring diesel generator (a
Stamford NewAge unit driven by a Yanmar fourcylinder
diesel) sits between the Deere main
engines.
There is 45–46 inches of headroom in the
engine space. It is open enough for good access
around the systems, but one is required to crabwalk
around the space—fine for checking filters
and fluids.
Pilothouse…And More
Directly across from the galley are steps up to
the pilothouse. The wheelhouse on the Florida
Bay Coaster is—no surprise here—the central
location of the boat, totally in keeping with the
tuggish look of the boat. (Speaking of tugs, Joe
tells me commercial guys love the Coasters, and the VHF radio is never silent when work boats
pass by.)
The pilothouse is 10 feet wide, and the center
helm location gives storage and work space on
both sides of the wheel. Paper chart storage is
found in drawers under the six-foot settee
behind the helm.
here are two opening mahogany doors out
to the side decks, which, if you recall, are on the
upper deck.
I suggest the top of the
stairs up from the galley
would benefit from a railing
of some sort to keep crew
from accidentally falling
down into them.
Also, visibility is good
forward and to the sides,
but not so good to the stern.
Why? Well, aft of the
pilothouse is the master
stateroom!
Room With A View
Directly above the saloon
is the master stateroom, aft
of the pilothouse and on the
same level.
The cabin is large—
almost 10 feet wide by nine
feet long—and features a
standard queen island bed
with storage on one side
and at the foot.
Three opening windows
provide great ventilation
and visibility from the master cabin, and a large, 30-inch-wide door
opens onto the covered, upper aft deck. What a
marvelous place to spend the waking hours,
with a cup of coffee and either the morning
paper or fresh biscuits…or both.
The master stateroom has its own head,
complete with separate tiled shower. It is
located just behind the pilothouse settee so is
convenient from the helm as well.
Overall, quite a layout for a 42-foot cruising
boat. Joe Johnson mentioned that a completed 42-footer can be built and equipped for
liveaboard gunkholing for less than US$500,000.
This first 42 Coaster, Mary E, is a custom boat
built for its American owners, who will bring her
up to the Great Lakes and cruise out of their
home in Michigan.
On To The Yard
Rio Dulce exploration completed, we returned
to Guatemala City the next day.
We got a chance to tour the yard where
Aquiles builds the Coasters. There we also saw
an almost-complete 39-foot Benford tug, a really
cool boat that should be quite a looker when
she’s done.
A 52-foot, Chuck Neville-designed steel
passagemaker was also coming together and
had just been painted. Neither boat had received
much interior work, so it was hard to visualize
how they would be laid out. But both looked
great, despite the fact that we were seeing these
bluewater boats being built at 5,200 feet in the
mountains.
The 39-foot tug and 52-foot passagemaker are
intended for offshore voyaging, Alaskan travel,
and the type of serious cruising to which many
aspire. They are the other side of the coin, and
I can’t wait to see them. The Coaster may be the
ticket for those with inshore dreams, but those
of us looking to the distant horizon lust for
voyagers capable of handling the big stuff.
Both boats should fit that bill.
An Eye To The Future…From The Past
Aquiles Faillace plans great things for his
Florida Bay Boat Works. He has the talent and
resources to build proper steel cruising boats for
customers around the world.
During our visit in Guatemala, he showed us
other products from his companies.
I especially fell in love with the carved
hardwood doors he creates for sale in Europe.
Such woodworking and carving skills come
from talent evolved from generations of Guatemalans. This woodworking could add a special
touch on each of his boats, at least in trim if not
the full Mayan warrior treatment.
Another company produces hand-painted
tiles, as beautiful as they are practical. Perhaps a
good touch in galley and head.
I think both should be signature trademarks on
all boats coming out of Florida Bay Boat Works.
A Bright Future
It is clear that Guatemala is more than an exotic
Central American experience. Its people are
working hard to develop the country’s resources.
Aquiles Faillace is one of the movers and
shakers of this new energy. Boat building is just
one venture in his total corporate program, but
it does show how much can be accomplished
with purpose and vision.
If you’re considering a steel cruising boat, and
are intrigued by the exotic, but financially energetic
economy of Guatemala, perhaps you
ought to consider deal-ing with a boatyard with
lofty ideas.
After all, when you’re already a mile high, the
sky’s the limit!
Reprinted with permission. Copyright 2001 © Dominion Enterprises (888.487.2953) www.passagemaker.com
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