Buying a second-hand sailboat: eight things to check before you sign
This list does not come from a manual. Every point on it is something we found out after buying a 16-metre ketch built in 1979 — and that cost us time, money, or both. They are ordered from the most expensive down.
The rule that comes before the eight points: the asking price is not the price
On a forty-year-old boat, the asking price is an entry ticket. The real figure is purchase price + refit + what the boat costs you while it is not sailing. On ours, the purchase price accounts for roughly 52% of the real cost over five years.
| Asking price | €68,500 |
| Identified work | €27,135 |
| Running costs, per year (berth, insurance, tax) | €7,460 |
| Real cost over 5 years | €132,935 |
The rule to remember
If the seller cannot put a date on every major item — rigging, engine, sails, electrics — with an invoice to back it up, assume the item needs redoing and price it before you make an offer. No invoice, no date. No date, it needs redoing.
The real cost calculator does that sum in thirty seconds, from the length, the asking price and the stated condition.
1. The rigging
This is the one item that can exceed the price of the boat on a small one. On ours, replacing the standing rigging comes to €15,000 — more than half our entire works budget.
What to ask for: the date the standing rigging was last replaced and the mast last unstepped, with the invoice.
Warning signs: broken strands right at the terminals, rust weeping from the swages, chainplates seeping. Past ten to fifteen years, assume it needs redoing and build it into the purchase price, not into your “future projects”.
2. The engine
An engine presented to you already warm proves nothing. Ours had not run for three years: it took a new filter, a full bleed and four attempts before it fired.
What to ask for: the hours, the date and the scope of the last rebuild, the service log.
What to do: insist on a cold start in front of you. Then shut it down, wait, and restart. Watch the colour of the exhaust smoke and the water at the outlet, the oil pressure, the temperature — and check that the stop control actually stops the engine, a detail we discovered afterwards.
Also ask: to see the bottom of the tank and the pre-filters. An engine can be sound and the diesel not. Ours was rebuilt in 2021 and the whole fuel system still had to be gone through: the full procedure is here.
Trap: raw seawater cooling, with no closed circuit. It is not a deal-breaker, but it means internal corrosion to watch for the rest of the engine’s life.
3. The deck and its core
Deck seams are the way water gets inside, and redoing them is a monumental job: two of us, whole weekends, and we only get through part of it at a time.
What to do: tap with a screwdriver handle around the chainplates, the winches and the stanchions. A sharp sound is sound. A dull sound means a wet core — and at that point it is not a seam to redo, it is a deck to open up.
Go over it with a moisture meter too, press on the soft spots, look at the seals around the deck gear and the portlights. A sound deck shows; a soaked deck gets paid for over years.
4. The electrics
On a forty-year-old boat, the electrics are layer upon layer. In our ceiling voids, six cables out of eight were already cut. One HDMI socket had rusted right through.
What to look at: the switch panel from behind, not from the front. The front is tidy. Behind it you see the flying leads, the choc-blocks and the absence of any logic.
The rule: on a boat of this age, assume the electrics need redoing. Ask whether a wiring diagram exists — the answer is almost always no, and that is information in itself. One pleasant surprise is possible, though: a recent NMEA 2000 network is worth its weight in gold.
On ours, a complete rebuild in 24 V lithium: the architecture and the real cost are set out here.
5. Skin fittings and seacocks
These are holes in the hull, below the waterline, and on an old boat they are often at the end of their life with nothing to show for it. Brass dezincifies: the fitting looks whole and gives way in your hand.
What to do: work every seacock, one by one, by hand. A seized seacock will not save you on the day it matters. Count the skin fittings: each one is a budget line.
On ours, all replaced — reckon on the order of €105 per skin fitting with its seacock, excluding fittings and sealant. The full ten-step method is in the dedicated guide.
6. The steering
Nobody looks at it during a viewing, because it works — alongside, with no load on it, it always works.
What to do: put the helm hard over from one side to the other, several times, listening. Then look underneath the ram: traces of oil, even old ones, mean seals to replace.
On hydraulic steering, check the level, the unions and the tees as well. On ours the circuit had to be gone through — one tee replaced and the ram seals. It is not the most expensive item, but it is the one you can least do without at sea.
7. The sails
What to ask: their age. Not “they are in good condition”: their age.
What to do: get at least the mainsail out on the ground. Folded in its bag, a sail always looks fine. Spread out, you can see the stitching, the reef points, the shape and the UV damage on the leech.
A wardrobe that needs replacing shows up nowhere in a listing and runs into thousands. It is an item we have budgeted for later, not one we avoided.
8. The paperwork, and the seller’s debts
Nobody puts this one on a checklist, and it is the one that cost us the most in a single hit. On launch day, a call from the marina: the previous owner owed €14,000, and the boat was impounded.
What to ask for: the registration document, proof that VAT has been paid, the invoice history, and the survey report in full.
What to do: call the marina before you sign and ask whether the account is settled. Check there is no marine mortgage and that the seller really is the registered owner.
The how-to is in the guide The seller’s debt: the five checks to run before you sign.
The equipment: everything has to run in front of you
In the listing, everything is “working”. On the boat, “working” often means: it worked once, a long time ago. The rule: believe nothing you have not seen run.
Bring a multimeter and a head torch. Test everything twice: engine off, then engine running. And count as needing replacement — not as a bonus — any piece of kit that works but is obsolete, undersized or beyond repair.
| Equipment | The test | Warning sign |
|---|---|---|
| Engine charging | Voltage at the batteries, engine running (≈ 14 V or 28 V) | Voltage does not rise: alternator or regulator |
| Batteries | Age, type, resting voltage | No date, swelling, low voltage after a night |
| Windlass, bow thruster | Run them for a few seconds | Noise, voltage drop, breaker tripping |
| Autopilot | Engage it under engine, turn through 20° | It drops out, oil weeping from the ram |
| Electronics | Depth, log, AIS, VHF all switched on | Frozen screen, cut cable, unit no longer repairable |
| Bilge pumps | Manual and electric, float lifted by hand | Pump will not prime, float jammed |
| Fresh water, heads | Pressure, pump, valves | Pump cycling continuously = a leak |
| Gas and galley | Burners + thermocouple cut-off | Out-of-date hose, smell, cut-off bypassed |
| Fridge, watermaker | Start it up and take a real measurement | “It just needs a small part” |
The most expensive sentence in boating
“It just needs a small part.” On ours: a depth sounder whose cable had been cut, a 1,200 W inverter that had to be replaced with a 3,000 W one, and a watermaker that was unusable for want of a feed pump — eventually abandoned. Three lines that, in the listing, counted as equipment included.
What we wish someone had told us
That you do not buy a second-hand boat, you adopt one. That the price in the listing is a deposit. And that the two items that really tip a budget over — the rigging and the engine — are precisely the ones you cannot assess yourself in a single viewing.
If we were doing it again, we would only make an offer after pricing up the eight points. And we would not ask the seller whether the boat is in good condition — we would ask for the invoices.
None of this is a reason to give up. We did it, and we would do it again. But knowing.
If you are going to see a boat this weekend, take the printable viewing checklist with you: the same eight points, broken down into sixty-six things to tick off on board.
The whole refit is told month by month in the logbook, costed on the budget page. And if you are at the next stage — the refit itself — here is how long it takes, what it costs and in what order.