Four of us went to the Lochsa River in Idaho on a weekend perfectly suited to testing single-walled shelter performance: day time highs at 45, lows at night 35, heavy ground fog, camped next to a river, the ground totally soaked, no sun or breeze at all, 90 to 100 percent humidity according to a weather station one mile away. This was a car camping trip with a day hike to a hot springs and some trout fishing.

Here’s a photo of our armada: my new Nemo Moki in the foreground, a BD Megalight (our cooking/drinking shelter), and a BD Lighthouse in the background (sans vestibule).



It rained a total of .5 inch over 24 hours, most of that coming in moderate to heavy increments for periods of two hours at a time.

The Lighthouse (Epic-shelled, and seam-sealed) didn’t leak, and condensation with two people inside was tolerable: the fabric was moist, but there were no drips.

The Megalight (sil-nylon coating, seam-sealed) didn’t leak either, but condensation was copious on the inside—we cooked dinner inside with four people and the canopy fully-zipped. Still, the size of the Megalight makes it very easy to avoid the wet walls, and there were no drips.

Reviews of Nemo tents with the Osmo WP/B polyurethane coating cite the great breathability, so I was a little disappointed, but perhaps unnecessarily so. With two people inside, the covered roof vents open, and the main door under the vestibule completely open, the inside walls were damp: about the same as with the Lighthouse. There were no drips, but there were a few leaks because I took this straight out of the box without seam-sealing the points that Nemo says needs SeamGrip. But given the amount of rain, the leaks were relatively minor—and of course I’ll do the seam sealing soon enough. But looked at another way, the fully waterproof Moki did as well in condensation as the only water-resistant Lighthouse.



So no, nothing became wet inside the Nemo, but it’s a different experience than with Bibler or ID tents in the rain. The Nemo may actually have been more breathable than a Bibler or ID, but because the Nemo inner canopy is slick rather than paper towel fuzzy, the perception is that things are damper than they really are. Further experiments are in order: for example, it may actually have been drier in the Moki if all the doors were closed and only the upper vents left open.

The Moki’s closest competitor is the Bibler Bombshelter (see below for my GoreTex version made for the special forces).




The Moki is a more modern design, but the Bibler has its advantages. The Moki is easier to set-up, with less risk of poking a pole through the canopy or mosquito netting. With the Moki, you put up the two outer poles first, then get inside and do the two diagonal inner poles (which are unique in that the sections at the apex of the tent are larger than the other pole sections). However, you still have to go outside of the tent to attach the vestibule pole and the short cross-brace across the top. The inner pole attachments for the Moki use Velcro in a manner very similar to the Lighthouse—it’s far superior to the old bow tie Velcro used by Bibler, but not as easy or quick as the plastic twist clips Bibler now uses. The vestibule pole goes through a sleeve—much quicker and easier to set-up than Bibler’s Velcro attachments. The vestibule is made of sil-nyl, but it is fully seam-taped, a rarity for this type of fabric.

Although slightly narrower than a Bombshelter, the Moki is taller, and probably could be considered more spacious. The mesh pockets of the Moki are set up high and are far superior to the Bombshelter’s low hanging little sacks.

There are also several unusual fabric/design choices used in the Moki. You’ll note from the photos that the floor/canopy seam is at ground level (which usually results in the tautest pitch), but that coated floor material does not go up the side of the tent. Nemo obviously believes that the canopy is entirely waterproof. The outer face of the canopy is also made out of polyester rather nylon. Polyester doesn’t stretch as much as nylon when wet, and has better UV resistance. The feel of the canopy is silky rather than stiff like on Biblers. The floor is goes against traditional practice in that it is ripstop nylon rather than taffeta—Todd Bibler specifically warns against using ripstop for tent floors.

When staked but not guyed (we didn’t use guylines because there was no wind and some in our party weren’t used to walking around them at night), the Moki isn’t quite as taut as the Bombshelter. When guyed, the advantage still goes to the Bibler: there are no side guidelines on the Moki because of the big V-shaped windows.

One weak point of Bibler and BD tents has always been their stake loops: they aren’t adjustable, and the thin ribbon webbing is easily cut by sharp edged stakes (that’s why I’ve switched to Easton tubular stakes). On the Moki, the stake points are shock cord rings covered with a rubber-like substance, and the vestibule stake loops are adjustable with the usual ladder lock buckles. Of course, the best stake loops, and the heaviest, are the fully adjustable ones on MH Trango tents with the plastic clip for attaching the fly.

Where Bibler tents shine are with the inner doors—they open to the side, have three zipper pulls to allow for independent top and bottom venting, and you can open or close the fabric and mosquito netting doors at the same time—simply brilliant. In comparison, Nemo uses doors that zip to the floor (as with older TNF expedition tents). The two provided loops for securing the rolled door really don’t do much to keep things tidy. What would help would be a long pocket along the sill to hold the fabric and netting when not zipped up (I have an MEC expedition tent with this feature) or follow the example of Sierra Designs with their entirely circular door zipper and pockets on the side for stowing the door. But the bigger problem with doors that zip to the floor is that you really can’t create high/low venting. You can get the high just fine, but the low will just be a mere slit. And it’s not that Nemo didn’t try side-zip doors, the first edition of the Tenshi that I have (the eVent version) uses a waterproof zipper that opens to the side.

The main vestibule on the Bombshelter (and the Lighthouse) has a ridiculously small opening in the center for a door. The Moki gives you three options: either side or the center. But, there’s no way to vent the Moki vestibule in the rain: the door zippers all only have one slider that opens from the bottom. However, I’m not sure how useful a vestibule vent is, even when cooking underneath the thing: the inside of the vestibule is always wet even if there’s a big vent (such as on Biblers or TNF expedition tents), no vent but an upper zipper slider (MH Trangos), or nothing (the Moki).

On an earlier solo trip I was at the same spot in BD Skylight. That trip had more rain and periods of sustained 30 MPH winds, and the Skylight did just fine. Condensation was extensive but never dripped, the only leaks (the tent was seam-sealed) were at the side guy attachments), and it was remarkably stable and quiet in the wind. The Epic fabric does, however, attract and hold flying debris (note the pine needles in the photo below). I’ve also noticed on my friend’s Lighthouse that the exterior will wet out where he’s touched it with dirty hands.



Two of us also spent a rainy weekend at the same spot recently in a MN Trango 3.1 Arch. The inside of the fly was sopping, the inside of the inner canopy only moist up at the apex. But it takes forever to set-up this tent (seen below at the same spot in winter) compared to the Moki.



And here’s some of our breakfast (GSI hard anodized griddle with a Primus EF Gravity stove, which is very hot and very stable):