You have to be a different sort of sailor to be interested in an Ovni. If you want something that blends into the background like a blue Ford Focus in a car park, this is not the boat for you.

Owning an Ovni means becoming adept at answering questions about the things that make her different, probably starting with the chined aluminium hull and why it’s not completely painted, and almost inevitably moving on to the centreboard and the internal ballast.

Explaining the Ovni philosophy isn’t just about being defensive, however, because if you’ve bought one of these boats it will be for good reasons.

For example, aluminium is extremely tough: weight-for-weight it’s stronger than steel, so an aluminium hull can be strong without being unduly heavy.

For anyone concerned by the number of boats damaged or sunk following encounters with unidentified floating objects, it’s a big plus.

The chines are easy to explain: building a round-bilge boat in aluminium costs a good deal more.

It’s the same with painting, because it’s labour-intensive on an aluminium substrate. This is why Ovnis have chined hulls and unpainted topsides.

Once you have touched on the qualities of aluminium and why the hull looks the way it does, you can address something that’s much more widely understood – the centreplate.

We all recognise the benefits of being able to sneak over the bar or sill, park on the beach and use a low-cost drying mooring.

Shallow draught makes sense for long-distance voyagers, too.

What better after an ocean crossing than to sail over the coral-head and nudge your bow into the beach while everyone else is anchored offshore and fiddling with dinghies and outboards?

Much of the interest in extended cruising is in exploring shallow waters when you get to the other end.

Besides, being able to dry out easily is potentially invaluable for inspecting the hull and making repairs.

In recent years we have seen an increase in the number of lift-keel production cruisers.

Most are fibreglass, however, so the combination of aluminium construction and a fully-retractable keel is still relatively rare.

If you want both, you’ll have to put an Ovni on your shortlist and start rehearsing answers to those inevitable questions.

Addressing Ovni issues

Despite the Ovni’s virtues, it’s hard to concentrate on them until the potential drawbacks of aluminium construction and internal ballast have been addressed, so let’s get those out of the way.

Aluminium’s two principal enemies are electrolysis and galvanic action.

To avoid ill effects from them you have to keep clear of copper-based antifoulings, not drop screws or loose change in the bilge (though it is coated in primer as a precaution), ensure there are no stray currents from your electrical system, and be prepared to replace your anodes (several of them) at regular intervals.

If you look after aluminium by taking these precautions, it will look after you – providing it’s the right sort of aluminium to start with.

Those with a high copper content aren’t a good idea given that boats tend to spend much of their time in salt water, so Ovni uses a magnesium-rich mixture of a grade known as 5083 H111 and weld it in an argon/helium atmosphere.

Since Alubat, the builders, have produced more than 1,000 Ovnis and Cigales (water-ballasted fast cruisers) over the past 25 years or so and few problems of note have entered the public domain, it would seem that the construction works.

It has certainly proved its worth in extremis, with Ovnis surviving forces on occasions that have led to the total destruction of fibreglass boats.

Enjoying the reassurance of this ruggedness means adhering to a few disciplines, living with grey topsides and touching up some chipped paint around the stern and gunwales periodically, but it’s a deal that Ovni owners generally reckon is a good one.

Of greater concern to some is the relatively low angle of vanishing stability (AVS) of 115°, a result of the internal ballast and light centreplate.

If you want a plate that’s easy to lift without a heavy-duty and fairly costly mechanism, some compromise to ultimate stability is inevitable.

It’s a question that has been raised many times and the only answer is that Ovnis have not made a habit of falling over.

They have sailed far and wide, survived more than a few gales and worse in inhospitable parts of the world, and lived to tell the tale.

Perhaps they shouldn’t, in the same way that a bumble-bee theoretically can’t fly, though having a keel that lifts and allows the boat to slide sideways in heavy seas rather than being tripped might be a significant factor.

Unusually for a modern boat with a lifting keel, the Ovni 395 has a lifting rudder rather than twin blades.

It’s raised and lowered hydraulically from the fixed part of the rudder on a skeg that, together with the shaft log, supports the stern when the boat dries out.

Swinging up if it hits something, it gives a rudder draught when down of 1.6m (5ft 3in) and, on test, comfortably kept the boat on track at normal angles of heel.

Ovni argues that with a boat of these proportions (the stern isn’t unusually broad by modern standards) there’s no need to have twin rudders.

With a single blade, you benefit from a more sensitive helm and, importantly for a lift-keeler under power in shallow waters, from prop-wash.

As a bonus, you have more stowage space in the stern. The rudder’s hydraulic system is in the starboard stern locker but less obtrusive than a stock and link arm.

Sail and power on the Ovni 395

Internal ballast and a higher centre of gravity than an equivalent fin-keeler inevitably lead to a reduction in sail-carrying power and a more modest rig.

Stepped on deck, the Ovni 395’s is a near masthead configuration with the forestay joining the mast only inches below the top, and it gives a combined mainsail and foretriangle area of 68.28sq m (735sq ft).

The resulting sail area/displacement ratio of 16.33 is on the low side by modern standards.

Confirming my thoughts that she was far from over-canvassed, the Ovni 395 comfortably carried full sail upwind on test in 16-18 knots of apparent breeze.

So easily did she carry it, in fact, that we could almost certainly have left everything flying in another 4 or 5 knots.

While she might need patience or the help of the engine until the breeze picks up, the Ovni 395 is no slouch when it does.

A strong tide under us made it hard to measure our upwind speed accurately by GPS, but some interpolation suggested we were clocking around 6.5 knots.

She felt good to sail, too; smooth and responsive, with a comfortable, long-legged motion and a helm that could be neutralised with the traveller dropped well to leeward or given a little bite when it was tracked up to where you would normally want it in those conditions.

It’s easy to find a good variety of helming positions either side and at most angles of heel, even if the 40in (102cm) wheel could be substantially larger.

On the way back she maintained around 6 knots with 12 knots of wind on the beam. Earlier, during the photo session, she had comfortably clocked well over 8 knots on a reach with the help of the cruising chute.

The ease with which the Ovni 395 slips through the water at displacement speeds cannot be harmed by the fact that the transom remains clear of the water, unlike many that drag a good deal of turbulence behind them.

Whether or not this is principally a function of the underwater shape necessary to accommodate the prop-shaft and rudder within the depth of the
canoe body, it’s a notable feature.

Among the few signs that you have a relatively small keel area are the way a stall can be induced on the exit of a tack.

Presenting no difficulties most of the time, it would nonetheless be something to bear in mind if you were short-tacking through moorings or up a river, for example.

You need to remember that your lift is generated by a small aluminium plate with bevelled edges, not a fully-profiled keel.

A weld of difference

Apart from her smoothness and relaxed manner, what you notice most about the Ovni 395 when you’re sailing is the neatness and solidity of the deck, cockpit, trim and fittings; there’s a more pleasing, robust and cohesive feel than on a typical fibreglass production yacht.

There you find fittings and sub-mouldings bolted on and bedded down with beads of often-unsightly sealant.

You find roughly-cut edges and bits of deck moulding, such as hatch garages, that creak and flex underfoot.

Here everything seems to be part of the deck or to grow out of it as though it belongs.

The toerails, stanchion sockets and grab handles are painted the same colour as the deck and faired into it; the same goes for the boxes for the vents by the mast, the sheaves leading the centreplate’s uphaul purchase over the deck, the swan-neck for the electrical cables in the mast and the bases for the optional granny-bars.

In aluminium construction the fittings are welded in place, then the joins are faired with filler before the whole assembly is painted.

Unusual features on boats of any construction include the upstand in the deck around the front and sides of the forehatch to bear the brunt of green water sweeping the deck.

Also at this end of the boat is the bulk of the stowage. In the cockpit are two lockers of modest size, one incorporating slots for the washboards, but bulky items such as fenders and downwind sails go into the sizeable compartment reached via a hatch abaft the anchor locker.

In the stern, a recess beneath the step in the sugar scoop houses the liferaft, though some owners choose to keep the inflatable dinghy here and the liferaft on deck or on the stern rail.

The sugar scoop itself is increasingly rare at a time when builders are often favouring hinge-down sterns or steps to limit the overall length for marina-charging purposes.

A scoop undoubtedly enhances safety and, other things being equal, is something I would choose to have.

Above it is Ovni’s distinctive stern gantry, which can be used for davits and as a mounting point for aerials, lights, radar and a wind turbine.

A fixed strong point for a lifting tackle can be useful in any number of situations.

Moving into the cockpit, we find a fairly high sole and generous coamings incorporating cubby lockers.

I only wish their apertures were large enough to accept something thicker than a hand-bearing compass or a slender round of sandwiches.

A substantial teak table provides a useful bracing point and something to stand on so you can reach the end of the boom.

Rigging looks well specified and the boat comes with a removable inner forestay for a staysail or storm jib.

It attaches to a strong point abaft the anchor locker, joining the mast at the upper spreaders, and its load is countered by running backstays.

All this heavy-weather rigging is stowed by the mast when not in use.

Further evidence that the Ovni 395 is intended to be sailed offshore is the presence of forward lowers, rarely seen on boats with swept-spreader rigs.

Combined with the twin backstays, they add a ‘belt-and-braces’ factor to the mast without slowing down tacking unduly: with the right timing and a little coordination, you can sheet the genoa most of the way home without too much winding of the Lewmar 48 winches.

An anomaly in the hardware department is the way the traveller is rigged up: you tension the leeward line to move the car up the track, and it wouldn’t be that simple to rearrange it.

More frustrating for some of us, yet welcomed by others, is the mainsheet arrangement. The tail is led to a winch on the coachroof, so you can’t control it from the helm.

Moving around the deck is easy. The chainplates are taken to the inboard edge of the decks, leaving plenty of clear space between them and the stanchions, and the forward end of the coachroof runs smoothly into the foredeck.

Down below on the Ovni 395

Aluminium construction potentially allows more scope for customisation than does fibreglass because the bulkheads are relieved of much of their load.

The layout of the Ovni 395 tends to be fairly standard nonetheless. Well arranged and nicely finished, with good access to the essential systems, it also manages to disguise the centreboard case remarkably well.

As with other Ovnis, you would be hard-pressed to tell that you were in an aluminium boat if you didn’t know, because there are no obvious clues.

Substantial and well-made joinery in light oak is complemented by headlining panels in vinyl-covered plywood and pale laminates in the heads and galley.

Fibreglass mouldings don’t feature on this boat.

Nice touches include rubber feet on the lifting sole-boards, which are cut so as not to gouge the surrounding joinery when lifted.

The switch panel hinges down to reveal neatly laid-out circuitry and there’s provision at the chart table for pencils, rubbers and the like, plus a small locker for oddments.

The cushions in the saloon are cut in line with the locker lids beneath so it’s easy to gain access to the stowage.

Details like this make a big difference to life on board and are further evidence that the Ovni 395 has been designed and built by people who spend time on boats.

Lifting the sole reveals the aluminium hull with its supporting framework.

Down here you also find the ballast. Its lead encapsulated in resin and boxed inside aluminium on each side of the centreboard case, effectively dividing the bilge area in two.

The depth of the bilge allows the water tank (with its three inspection hatches) to fit beneath the sole as well.

Fuel is under the forecabin berth.

While poking around in the bilges you see that the structural framework makes for relatively easy access to pipe runs because they don’t need to pass through bulkheads.

A feature of note in the plumbing department is a water meter that gives cumulative and re-settable consumption figures.

Stowage throughout is plentiful and shelving has sensible fiddles.

Access to the Volvo D2 55 engine is good, the front and top coming right away and side panels letting you reach essentials such as the alternator and aft mounts.

PBO’s verdict on the Ovni 395

The Ovni 395 is built and fitted out with serious cruising in mind. She’s reassuringly sturdy, full of practical detailing rarely seen on production
boats, and nicely finished.

The principal features that define her are the aluminium construction and internal ballast. They will inevitably attract some and deter others.

At the end of our test, the latter allowed us to raise the plate with a gentle tug, nudge into the beach and splash ashore.

The following evening several more Ovnis joined in, drying out away from the crowds before the crews got together for a barbecue.

It really is a different world with an Ovni 395.