Andrew Simpson
Choosing the right cockpit cushions is essential for comfort. Here’s what to look for...
Let’s face it, we sailors have become softer. And about time too, say I. Gone are the days of sitting in a spray-drenched cockpit, beating to windward with almost manic determination.
Now we can leave it to autopilots or windvanes to do the steering while we seek at least partial shelter. Of course, there are still responsibilities to be upheld – the obligation to keep a lookout being the most important – but at least we’re spared the necessity of having to maintain a vice-like grip on tiller or wheel for hour after hour.
There’s no doubt that today’s cockpits show better attention to bodily comfort. Whereas timber construction gave rise to angular, trench-like cavities, moulded GRP allows for curves that more sympathetically mirror the human form. Even if the male of the species once thought it heroic and manly, their stiff upper lips only matched by the advancing rigor in their limbs, in my experience this was no more than masochism, only rarely endorsed by their more sensible female partners.
Which brings me to cockpit cushions – once the subject of much manly scorn but now almost universally accepted. Over the years I have explored the various options from the bottom up, so I believe this is a topic on which I can speak with authority. I can think of only a few essential requirements:
■ They should be comfortable. Seems obvious, but many aren’t.
■ They should not be slippery underfoot. Another obvious requirement, but many vaguely resemble your local ice-rink. Over the years I’ve collected several bruises while bounding too enthusiastically out of cockpits.
■ They should dry out quickly and certainly not remain waterlogged.
They should be buoyant, so they can be heaved overboard as an instant reaction in an MOB situation before the dedicated recovery gear is deployed.
Simple, don’t you think? These seem easy aims to fulfil. Actually, it’s not until you review the various commonly employed materials you realise that none satisfy all demands. Let’s look at the options.
Polyurethane foam: cheap, cheerful and readily available but will become waterlogged and take days to dry out. Also, it’s essentially non-buoyant in any load-carrying capacity. To mitigate this problem you can cover them with...
Waterproof fabric: such as reinforced PVC. But this is quite slippery to stand on and, anyway, the seams and zips will still leak. Also, it’s heavy and not pleasant to sit on, particularly in hot climates. Now, let’s look inside the covers: Closed cell foam: doesn’t absorb water and floats as ably as a duck but it lacks springiness, hardly more resilient or comfortable than the original seats.
Reticulated foam. Please don’t reach for the dictionary. ‘Reticulated’ means net-like, the practical outcome of this forms a structure of open galleries (as opposed to cells) which drain rapidly and can’t hold large quantities of water like a conventional sponge. Unfortunately, this property means it’s not buoyant.
Dwelling on this, it occurred to me that the best way forward was to combine the qualities of the closed cell foam with the reticulated variety, covering the whole in acrylic canvas which is both agreeable to sit upon and has good non-slip properties.
Thus it was that Shindig’s cockpit cushions were born. Basically, the foam is like a layer cake. The bottom layer is 1in (25mm) closed cell foam and is topped by 3in (75m) of reticulated foam with the two being glued together with a spray-type latex adhesive. The closed cell foam has 6mm holes punched through it (don’t try and drill them. It tears the foam apart) at about 2in centres to allow any water to drain through. The laminated core was then covered in an envelope of acrylic canvas, sewn at home on a domestic machine.
So far, the cushions have been in use for well over a decade and are still in good condition. Left out in all but the worst conditions, they dry (at least the upper surface does) within minutes and are extremely comfortable. Overall, the results could hardly have been better.
‘It’s not until you review the commonly employed materials you realise that none satisfy all demands’