Sporting an appropriate paint job, Flying Tiger 10 Meter, “Tigger, Dangerous When Striped,” winning her class at last year’s Whidbey Island Race Week.
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Let us make one thing perfectly clear. Yacht designer Robert Perry doesn’t care what you think. Which makes the culmination of one of his most recent, and most abundant launchings – the ten-meter Flying Tiger – that much more of an enigma. But more on that later.
A native of Toledo, Ohio, and a 1964 graduate of Mercer Island High School, Bob Perry arrived in the Pacific Northwest as a boy, by way of Australia. For the past several decades, he’s been not only a local nautical feature of the Shilshole area but one of the world’s most prolific yacht designers as well. Internationally renowned, he was inducted in 1989 as one of the first 15 members to Cruising Magazine’s Hall of Fame. Perry’s not modest regarding his accomplishments. “You don’t have to be an ego maniac or a genius,” he says, “to figure out that your work’s important.” But Perry has bid adieu to Ballard and set up shop an hour or so north of Seattle, settling in on Puget Sound’s Kayak Point. Now ten miles of winding road, the speed trap though the Tulalip Indian reservation, and just one stop light separate Perry from the off ramp and frenetic pace of the I-5 freeway. The spit of land where he now lives and works faces west, toward the southern tip of Camano Island, and the town of Langley on the next island over, Whidbey. In the warmer months, whales meander by while the sun lays long and low on the driftwood-laden beach out front of the newly built Perry house, which sits on the site of his wife’s family’s former summer home. In colder times, the house’s high-ceilinged upstairs office, lodge-like warm wood interior, and crackling fire offer sanctuary at the base of the steep hillside that’s populated with towering semi-old growth conifers and bare-limbed deciduous trees. Inside, Bob’s penchant for perfection is temporarily parlayed to the decorating of the Christmas tree, whose garland of lights will have undergone several changes-of-heart before Bob is satisfied with the result.
Perry can’t stay away from the city for long, however, and makes the trek into town once a week, where his two sons, Spike and Max, still live and work. His bank’s in Ballard, as is his cleaners, as well as his favorite fresh fish market. His oldest son Max has purchased the former Perry home in Ballard, and commutes across Lake Washington to Redmond where he lends his inherited, creative skills to Microsoft’s flight simulator gaming program. That the Perry family is creative, there is no doubt. Yacht designing is, says Perry, his “own inner need to feel and be creative.” A guitar player since age 14, Perry currently lends his musical talents to two bands. In Special Ed & the Most Flatulent Dudes, he plays Country Western on one of his half a dozen guitars. His other band, currently called Scratch, favors more of a bluesy AC/DC sound. Also musical, son Max played in the bands Willis, and The Actual Tigers. Also creative, son Spike finds his outlet in other mediums. From his petite Perrywinkles, to mulithulls, to lengthier creations, such as the 65-foot Icon, Bob Perry’s boat designs number nearly 400, the launchings of the vessels themselves are in the thousands. His recent designs include luxury motor launches, cruiser-racers, racer-cruisers, aluminum motor-cruisers, performance cruisers of course, and one particular extravagance that comes with a built-in Yamaha keyboard. Each, however, shares the Perry traits of comfort and seaworthiness. Based on the seemingly old-money aspect of some of his creations, one might think his designs give a nod to East Coast influences. However, Perry defiantly defends the West Coast-ness of his designs, which he says are rooted in the unique design needs of work boats that plied the waters of the left-hand side of the country. Unlike the strong traditions of classic East Coast boats, such as the Cape Cod Catboat, or the Friendship and Grand Banks Schooners, Perry points out the incredible diversity of West Coast work boat designs which evolved throughout the decades. To some, Bob Perry may have a reputation for being on the gruff side, a trait he doesn’t try too hard to dispel. A fleeting grin, however, eyes squinting in amusement, and the hint of an occasional dimple through his trademark beard (still full though the jet black is now peppered with grey) belie his sense of humor. His enjoyment of a good, raunchy joke is evident when he lets a boisterous belly laugh escape his tall frame. Perry’s wife Jill, fresh-faced and pixie-ish, partners his personality well. Bob was drawn to her energetic, and stubborn, nature. As a student at the University of Washington she helped to pay her bills waitressing at “the old Ray’s,” to where Bob, his office nearby, would wander for a bite and a drink. Ray’s Boathouse at Shilshole is slicker now than it used to be, and during the transition from the workingman’s Ray’s to the “new” Ray’s, Jill refused to doll up her healthy ski-racer face with make-up. She was promptly fired. These days, Jill commutes every Monday through Friday via Sounder train to teach fifth grade in Seattle, leaving behind the dog Freda and Bob to design boats. Which brings us back to the Flying Tiger. The evolution of the FT began with an off-hand comment by Perry’s long-time colleague and client, Bill Stevens, with whom Perry had already built a large cruising boat in China. Seems Stevens had witnessed Chinese “club” racing and felt that its representative fleet of two beat-up J/24s could be improved upon. “We should do a boat for the Chinese,” said Stevens and asked Perry to quickly draw a sketch that Stevens could take to the boat show in Shanghai. Originally concepted for the Chinese market, the Flying Tiger drawing sat idle for awhile. Eventually, Stevens tossed it up on the San Diego based sailing website, Sailing Anarchy. That online community of sailors and racers was immediately intrigued by the yet unidentified drawing. Within days, comments flew and guesses as to what it was were posted at a record pace. Once more data was released, including the promise to deliver the boat under “the magic price” (later divulged as less than $50K) the pre-orders rolled in, despite the lack of any workable plans whatsoever. Within six weeks, 100 deposits had been received. The magic price eventually came in closer to $40K for the first 50 (shipping costs not included). In 21st century style, Perry and Stevens asked the Sailing Anarchy community to design, in essence, their new boat (known then as the “Anarchy 30”) by proxy, and over the internet. Over the course of several months, ideas, tips and suggestions poured in. Perry took these, with a generous dose of salt (he was the expert after all), and drew up the plans for the world’s first democratically designed day racer. Eventually named for the WWII American mercenary pilots who flew for the Chinese against Japan (see the Oscar-winning movie starring John Wayne), the Flying Tiger comes complete with a full suit of sails and Siamese cat eye portholes. It is, says Perry, a “simple and elegant” 32-foot day racer displacing just 4900 lbs. A spin on the “box rule,” one mandate addressed the issue of deliverability and dictated that the boat fit easily into a container. To date there are approximately 70 FTs already in the water, about a tenth of that number sailing in China. The unusual evolution of the boat proved so successful, Perry has been approached by several universities to share his “marketing model” with their business classes. Like any creative process and product, there were naysayers. Personal attacks in the forums section of Sailing Anarchy’s website did not deter Perry. And, though the FT is Chinese made, so far there have been no issues regarding the toxicity of materials used in its construction. In fact, says Perry, “It may be the only Chinese product where people are requesting more lead instead of less.” What’s next? For Perry, there will always be another boat, and perhaps a book capturing the history of great American yacht designers. Though still in its design infancy, a smaller 27-foot Flying Tiger is under consideration, affectionately known as the Cub. And as for any yacht designer, an America’s Cup invitation would be hard to pass up. (Perry got a taste of the hard, dry world of AC competition when he was hired by competing syndicates, to compare and/or contrast hull designs during one particularly nasty enquiry during the 31st Cup campaign in New Zealand.) Says Perry, “I have a head full of boats that I have not drawn yet and they are busting to get out. Unfortunately, they can only get out one client at a time.” To learn more about Perry and his designs, pick up a copy of his recently released hard-back book Yacht Design According to Perry, My Boats and What Shaped Them. ...back to 48° North title page.
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