When this project began, the aim was not simply to refit a boat, but to change its role. What started life as a 48-foot trawler type boat was being rethought as a 60-foot cruiser capable of working as a family liveaboard and, on occasion, as a small dive boat.
That shift in use placed immediate pressure on the saloon. It needed to be larger, more flexible, and more open—yet still structurally honest and seaworthy. The most visible symptoms of the problem appeared at the saloon doors and windows, but the real causes lay much deeper.
This Insight explains how those openings came to be reworked, and why doing so required rethinking almost everything above and around them.
The inherited configuration
By the time we purchased the boat, the saloon had already been altered from its original trawler layout.
On the starboard side, the original heavy hinged door had been replaced with a sliding double door. At the same time, the window immediately astern of that door had been removed and the opening infilled with steel. There was no documentation for the change, but the intention was fairly clear: to compensate structurally for a much larger opening.
The port side, however, remained untouched. It still carried its original solid hinged door and window.
The result was a saloon that was asymmetrical in every sense — visually, functionally, and structurally. Access had improved on one side, light had been reduced on the other, and the saloon face no longer read as a single, coherent element.
This was our starting point. What followed was less a redesign than an investigation.
A space that no longer matched the brief
Our intention from the outset was to create a space that could function comfortably as a family liveaboard while still accommodating small groups of divers when required. In practice, that meant circulation, flexibility, and clear movement mattered as much as seating or views.
The existing saloon was simply too small. No amount of furniture rearrangement would fix that.
Extending it outward was not an option, so the only viable direction was inward — by absorbing space from the existing wheelhouse. That wheelhouse, essential in the boat’s earlier working life, was expected to become surplus to requirements as the refit progressed.
At this point it became clear that we were not just adjusting doors and windows. We were redefining the boundary between exterior deck, saloon, and wheelhouse.
The apparent constraint
Running vertically through the centre of the saloon was the funnel structure, welded to the saloon roof and visually dominant in the space. Over time, the surrounding bulkheads had effectively become part of its perceived support system.
Removing large sections of bulkhead — necessary if the saloon was to grow — seemed to threaten the integrity of everything above. The funnel appeared to be the non-negotiable constraint around which everything else would have to work.
Rather than accepting that assumption, we stepped back and asked a more basic question: what role was the funnel actually playing?
The discovery that changed everything
Investigation revealed that, despite appearances, the funnel structure was not load-bearing. It was attached to the roof, but it was not carrying significant vertical loads.
The structure looked essential — but it wasn’t.
That single discovery changed the entire project.
Removing the exhaust problem altogether
Once the funnel itself was no longer structurally essential, the next question was obvious: what do we do with the engine exhaust?
The preferred answer — both practically and philosophically — was to go electric. That decision removed the exhaust requirement entirely, making the funnel as redundant as the old wheelhouse was becoming.
At that point, two inherited elements collapsed into one problem: a vertical structure that no longer served the boat’s future role.
By removing both the funnel and the wheelhouse roof, we could level the roofline they occupied. By lowering the wheelhouse deck to match the saloon and introducing a new internal linking doorway running fore and aft, it became possible to rethink the entire superstructure as one continuous volume rather than a stack of inherited components.
What the structure was actually doing
Once the insulation was stripped out, the real behaviour of the saloon roof became clear.
The steel roof spars cambered against a central fore-and-aft span running the length of the saloon. From there, each spar extended outward. Although welded at the saloon bulkheads, they were effectively resting across them rather than relying on them for primary support.
Those spars continued beyond the saloon walls by roughly two feet, tying into substantial structural props connected directly to the outer hull.
In other words, the saloon bulkheads looked structural, but they were not where the roof loads ultimately went. The hull was.
This meant that the saloon roof required central support, not continuous side walls.
Providing support without recreating the problem
With the funnel gone, the challenge became how to provide that central support without simply replacing one visual obstruction with another.
The solution was to use scaffold tubes as vertical props, positioned symmetrically on either side of the interior space, adjacent to the saloon entrances.
Rather than hiding them, these tubes were integrated into the layout. Each pair became the structural core for short internal walls that act as natural guides into the saloon — defining circulation paths without closing the space down.
Structurally, the roof is properly supported. Spatially, the centre of the saloon remains open.
Solving the length problem by removing a level
One of the less obvious constraints on the original saloon was vertical rather than horizontal.
The wheelhouse deck and roof sat approximately two feet above their respective levels in the saloon. That change in level drastically shortened the usable interior without adding meaningful volume.
By removing the raised wheelhouse deck and rebuilding it at saloon level, roughly eight feet of continuous internal space could be reclaimed. What had once been divided by function and height became a single, uninterrupted volume. The rear wheelhouse bulkhead could still perform its spanning role, so no strength was lost.
If the forward face of the wheelhouse was also removed, its side walls could be continued further forward onto the foredeck — as far as the existing binnacle — while still retaining workable deck space beyond that point.
Carrying loads vertically, not visually
The rebuilt deck in the area of the former wheelhouse would now serve two purposes.
From above, it would support the new and extended saloon. From below, it would form the deckhead of new accommodation spaces. These spaces would be supported centrally by vertical steel strong points running through two strengthening RSJs down to the double keel.
Those RSJs would stiffen the keel structure and also form the base for accommodation walls built either side of a central passageway. Access to that passageway — and to the accommodation area — would be via a staircase within the extended saloon, passing through what had once been open foredeck but would now form part of the forward saloon.
The extended saloon could then become the primary support for a new, lighter wheelhouse above, and for an attached weather deck bearing a solar array extending aft to the stern.
Where the project stands now
At the time of writing, the project is in winter closure.
The funnel and its entire supporting structure have been fully removed all the way down to the engine room. Both sides of the saloon have been reconfigured: a window has been reinstated on the starboard side, and a sliding door and window installed on the port side. The two sides now mirror each other in both form and function.
The central scaffold-based support structure is in place and behaving as intended, and the new saloon deck framing beneath the wheelhouse has been completed in readiness for plating during the next phase.
The transformation is not finished — but the logic behind it has been tested in steel, not just imagined on paper.
Why the doors and windows matter
The doors and windows are the most visible outcome of these decisions, but they are not the starting point.
They work because the structure behind them is honest. The bulkheads no longer pretend to be load-bearing, the openings no longer rely on visual compromise for strength, and circulation now aligns naturally with both structure and use.
If the doors and windows work, it is because the thinking works.
And for now, that is enough to justify pausing, reflecting, and explaining how we got here — before the next stage begins.
About the Author
Jack Allen is a former Royal Navy seamanship rating, boat skipper, boat builder, and project manager. He is the creator and administrator of HamstersAHOY.com and currently coordinates the HamstersAHOY! Project, converting a derelict 48ft steel trawler into a modern 60ft liveaboard cruiser at Stourport-on-Severn.
Jack holds SMSTS and RYA Day Skipper certifications and is formally trained in the Natural Sciences through the Open University, Manchester University, and Sussex University.
👉 Follow Jack’s latest adventures and his articles at the HamstersAHOY! Project.
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