When you think of a classic, world-renowned, universally-loved boat, what comes to mind?
The 13’ Boston Whaler.
Whether you picture it from a vintage advertisement, remember it as a camp counselor's trusty vessel, or spent your own childhood using one to fish and island-hop, that little hull is pure nostalgia. Favored by boaters of all ages and backgrounds, the unsinkable 13 took the boating world by storm.
While the 13 often dominates the conversation, it's time to adjust the spotlight. Instead, I want to shine the light on another legendary Dick Fisher creation: the Nauset 16. While lesser known, it is, in my humble opinion, deserving of equal or more love, praise and nostalgic prose. Now, don't get me wrong, it would be slanderous to call the 13 incapable; however, it falls in line as the Nauset 16’s ‘kid brother’ despite being an older design.
To really appreciate the 16, you have to look at how the unsinkable legend started.
The iconic 13′ Boston Whaler was born from a chain of mid-century innovations, starting in 1916 when Albert Hickman patented the twin-hull "Hickman Sea Sled." Fast forward to the early 1950s, Harvard graduate Dick Fisher pioneered a way to sandwich new polyurethane foam inside a fiberglass shell to build an unsinkable boat. When a partnership with Hickman fell through, Fisher teamed up with legendary naval architect C. Raymond Hunt. Hunt modified the Sea Sled design by adding a flat centerline hull to prevent propeller cavitation, leading to the official 13′ Boston Whaler launch in 1958. The boat's "unsinkable" reputation was permanently cemented in 1961 after a famous Life magazine photo spread showed Fisher driving a hull that had been sawed completely in half.
To read more about the origin of the unsinkable hull, check out Matthew P. Murphy's excellent deep-dive over at Small Boats Magazine.
The 13-foot model is a minimalist, nimble, personal skiff, whereas the 16-foot Nauset, introduced in 1961, is a more capable coastal boat that kicked off the entire production center-console revolution as the world’s very first production center console.
With increased beam, overall length, draft, and hull weight the extra mass alone provides an animal-like ability to confidently chop through inlet swell and harbor wake. Whaler 13 owners are fiercely loyal to their boats, but the 16 flirts with a level of comfort they just can't match, providing a stand-up helm position with 360-degree walk around, and actual room for your gear. The 13 is great, it’s undeniable, but as a personal owner of a Nauset, I can honestly admit I’ve never once wished for three feet less in length or eleven fewer inches of beam.
The 1970 Whaler catalog described it this way:
"It is on the three models of this [16-foot] series [Nauset, Eastport, Sakonnet] and their hybridized variations that the reputation of large Boston Whalers for total excellence has largely been built. They can negotiate in safety and reasonable comfort the wildest waters ever used for pleasure boating; yet they are adaptable to more casual types of water sport in a degree equalled by few and exceeded by none. Easy for one man to haul and launch with a trailer, they open to their owners all waterways in the country from spruce-fringed crystal lakes in the North to shallow, bone fish flats and ocean reefs in the Florida Keys-- from Massachusetts bluefish grounds in the rip tides off Martha's Vineyard to the salmon fishery and cruising paradise of the far Northwest; and besides all this they are constructed with a solid uncompromising quality normally expected only on custom-built yachts.”
While the Nauset single-handedly proved that a centralized, stand-up helm completely changed small-boat fishing and general usability, its romantic, distinguished mahogany center console wasn't for everyone. In a tragedy and arguable ripoff, the Nauset served as the direct genetic blueprint for the legendary Boston Whaler Montauk. Regrettably, as the 1970s approached, boaters drifted away from delicate marine varnish and demanded lower maintenance. In 1973, Whaler answered by swapping out the Nauset’s signature mahogany wood console for a utilitarian, fiberglass helm—officially giving birth to the Montauk 17.
The Montauk became such a phenomenon that it completely overshadowed its predecessor, the Nauset 16. While the Montauk took all the fame and remains a household name today, it is a sad truth that the Nauset—the true pioneer that started the entire center-console movement—is unknown in most boating circles due to its successor's shadow.
After owning a Nauset for a handful of years and running her down the open water from Wilmington to Cape Lookout, I can confidently say I won't be shopping for either a 13 or a Montauk 17.
Would you?