Boat Sailing In Fair Weather And Foul E-Book

CAPTAIN A. J. KENEALY

• Herausgeber: Charles Fred
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

This book, originally from 1894, here in its 6th edition from 1903, was a bestseller at its time. It was written in a simple sailor style for all lovers of the sea and boats. The book covers every aspect of sailing small boats and yachts, from the choice of the boat to its operation and maintenance.
 

Leseprobe

Boat Sailing

IN

FAIR WEATHER AND FOUL.

CAPTAIN A. J. KENEALY. 

I.

ADVICE TO AN AMATEUR.

All of us remember the old sailor's retort to the man who reproached him

for soaking his clay in bad rum. "There ain't such a thing under heaven

as _bad_ rum," he sagely remarked. "Of course some rum is better than

another, but I have been knocking about the world for more than fifty

years and never did I drink a glass of rum that deserved to be called

_bad_, and I got outside of some pretty fiery tipple in my time."

The same is true in a general way of boats. There are many types of boat

and each has some peculiar attribute to recommend it. No two craft, for

instance, could be more widely different in every way than a Gloucester

fishing dory and a Cape Cod cat-boat, yet each when properly handled has

safely ridden out an Atlantic gale. Of course if their movements had

been directed by farm hands both would have foundered. In point of fact,

there is no royal road to the acquisition of seamanship. Experience is

what is needed first, last and all the time. It is true, however, that

the rough sea over which the learner has necessarily to sail may be

smoothed for him, even as the breakers on a harbor bar are rendered

passable for a homeward-bound craft by the judicious application of a

little oil.

The choice of a boat depends upon a vast variety of circumstances, the

chief of which is the location of the prospective boat owner. If he

lives on the Great South Bay, for example, he should provide himself

with a craft of light draught, almost capable of sailing on a clover

field after a heavy fall of dew. Equipped with a centerboard and a sail

a boat of this kind, if of the right shape and construction, will be

found comfortable, safe and of moderate speed. A man may also enjoy an

infinite amount of pleasure aboard her, after he has mastered the secret

of her management. There are so many sandbars in the Great South Bay

that a boat of light draught is indispensable to successful sailing. The

same remark applies also to Barnegat Bay and adjacent New Jersey waters.

There are some persons who believe that it is impossible to combine

light draught and safety. They make a great mistake. A twelve-foot

sneakbox in Barnegat Bay, with the right man steering, will live for a

long time in rough water that would sorely try the capacity of a much

larger craft in the hands of a lubber. The same is true of a sharpie.

The man who makes up his mind that he wants a sailing boat should study

well the geography of his vicinity. If he lives in New York or on the

Sound his course is easy. He is sure to be within reach of a yacht or

boat club from whose members he can get all the information he needs.

They will tell him the boat best adapted to his requirements and his

finances, and if they persuade him to join their organization they will

be conferring upon him a favor. I have traveled a good deal among the

yacht clubs of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut, and I never came

across a more generous, more obliging and more sportsmanlike body of men

than those enrolled on the rosters of these enterprising associations.

They are convinced that there is more real pleasure to the square inch

in the possession of a stout boat capable of being managed by a couple

of men, than there is in the proprietorship of a big yacht that carries

a crew of twenty and whose owner probably knows nothing about the art of

sailing her, but depends all the time on his skipper. It is a pleasure

to meet these men and listen to their yarns. The earnestness, the zeal

and the ability with which they pursue their favorite pastime are indeed

commendable. And the best of it is they are always ready to welcome

recruits, and to pass them through the rudimentary mill of seamanship

and navigation, their motto being "Every man his own skipper." The only

requisite necessary to membership in one or more of these clubs is that

you should be a "clubable" man with manly instincts. Young fellows, too,

are eagerly sought, so you need have no compunction about seeking their

doors, the latchstrings of which are always down.

By all means join a club, I say. You get all the advantages of the house

and the anchorage, and all the benefits that accrue to association with

men who are ardent and enthusiastic in the enjoyment of their pet

diversion. Besides—let me whisper a word in your ear, my brother, you of

the slender purse or may be economic instincts—it will be cheaper for

you in the end; it will put money in your purse. Your boat will be

looked after all the year round by watchful guardians, who will see that

it isn't stripped or rifled by river pirates, and that the elements do

not mar its beauty. I confess I was surprised when I learned how little

it costs to become entitled to all the privileges of these clubs, and it

is owing to their moderate charges that the "mosquito fleet" in the

vicinity of New York is growing so big and interest in the sport is

increasing so rapidly.

What I have written of New York is true, perhaps, in a greater measure

of Boston. There is no finer sheet of water for boat sailing than Boston

Bay, and no people in the world are more devoted to the sport than those

who dwell in the city of culture and its sea-washed environs. There are

plenty of yacht clubs between Point Allerton, on the south, and

Marblehead, on the north. It has been ascertained that more than five

thousand members have joined these organizations and that nineteen

hundred yachts are enrolled on their lists, most of the craft being less

than twenty feet on the water line. It will thus be seen that Boston

fully appreciates the value of small sailing craft as a means of

amusement and healthful recreation. The port from which _Volunteer_,

_Mayflower_ and _Puritan_ originally hailed, though justly proud of

those three magnificent racing yachts, has always been distinguished for

turning out stout, able and seaworthy vessels of the smaller type, and

also for breeding a sturdy race of men who know every trick of

seamanship. The majority of the boats are so constructed and rigged as

to ensure that they will render a good account of themselves in a blow

and a seaway. Thus the "sandbagger" type of vessel is rarely found "down

east," and this, in my opinion, need not be regretted.

The catrigged boat, with stationary ballast and a centerboard, may be

said to be the type generally preferred in those waters. The Newport

cat-boat is famous the world over for her handiness, speed and ability.

I know that it is fashionable for scientific men and swell naval

architects to decry the seaworthiness of these boats. It has been urged

that the weight of the mast in the eyes of the craft is a serious

objection, a strain on the hull, and not unlikely to be carried away for

want of proper staying. The long boom also has been objected to, because

of its liability to trip. The craft has been declared difficult to steer

and a regular "yawer." But while saying unkind things of the cat-boat's

behavior in a blow, no critic, however biased, has ventured to deny her

general handiness.

I might remind these gentlemen that the owner of a pleasure boat does

not as a rule sail her in a blow or in a seaway, but this would not be a

fair or legitimate argument. The elements are treacherous. A summer

storm often plays havoc among the shipping, and a man who ventures

seaward in the morning in a balmy breeze and with the water smooth as a

horsepond may be caught in a savage blow, followed by a heavy sea, both

of which may sorely try the capabilities of his craft and his own

resources as a seaman.

I am such a devout believer, however, in a cat-boat of proper form and

rig, that I will defend her as a good and handy craft in both fair

weather and foul. It blows hard in Narragansett Bay sometimes, and I

have often known a devil of a sea to be kicked up off Brenton's Reef

lightship. But the Newport cat-boat, with a couple of reefs down, comes

out of the harbor and dances over the steep waves like a duck or a cork.

I never saw one of them come to grief, and in fact they have always

impressed me as being the handiest all-round boat afloat. I have sailed

in them in all sorts of weather, and I am not likely to alter my

opinion. Many of the objections raised against them are idle. For

instance, the mast can be so stayed as to be perfectly secure. There is

also no reason why the boom should project so far over the stern as to

trip, and in this connection I should like to ask of what use is a

topping lift unless one avails himself of it in just such an emergency?

A man should always keep the boom well topped up when running before the

wind in a seaway, and by this means he may avoid much trouble and

possibly peril.

The above remarks are applicable to both salt water and fresh water, to

the yachts of the North, the South, as well as of the Great and Little

Lakes, and indeed wherever the glorious sport flourishes. In point of

fact, all the hints and directions given in these chapters may be

followed with profit on the Pacific Coast as well as on the Atlantic

Seaboard, on Lake Michigan or on the Gulf of St. Lawrence.

                                  II.

                         THE CHOICE OF A BOAT.

If any ambitious would-be mariner, old or young, hailing from anywhere

were to ask me what sort of a boat I would recommend him to build or

buy, I would answer him frankly that an able cat-boat, with a

centerboard and stationary ballast would, in my judgment, be best. I

would advise him to shun the "sandbaggers"—not that one cannot enjoy an

immense amount of exciting sport in one of them, but because they seem

to me to be only fit for racing, and I will tell you why. A man when he

goes on a quiet cruise doesn't want to be bothered by having to shift

heavy bags of sand every time the boat goes about. It is too much like

hard work, and by the time your day's fun is finished you feel stiff in

the joints. I have other arguments against the use of shifting ballast,

but do not think any other save the one mentioned is necessary.

This point disposed of, let us confer. Of what shall the stationary

ballast for our able cat-boat consist? Outside lead is of course the

best, but its first cost is a serious matter. A cast-iron false keel or

shoe answers admirably, and is moderate in price. Some persons object to

it, claiming that it rusts and corrodes; that its fastenings decay the

wooden keel to which it is bolted, and that its weight strains a boat

and soon causes her to become leaky. There is of course some truth in

these charges; but if the boat is built by a mechanic and not an

impostor, none of these disadvantages will exist, and the cast-iron keel

will prove to be both efficient and economical.

But if, by straining a point, lead can be afforded, procure it by all

means and have it bolted on outside. It neither tarnishes nor corrodes,

and as it does not deteriorate, its marketable value is always the same.

Racing yachts have, however, been known to sell for less than their lead

ballast cost, but such instances are rare. It should be borne in mind

that the lower down the lead is placed the less the quantity required,

and the greater its efficiency.

There are always a number of second-hand cat-boats in the market for

sale at a reasonable rate, and an advertisement will bring plenty of

replies. But for a tyro to purchase a boat haphazard is a mistake on

general principles. It is like a sailor buying a horse. Get some honest

shipwright or boat builder to examine, say, some half-dozen boats whose

dimensions suit you, and whose prices are about what you think you can

afford. There are certain portions of a cat-boat that are subject to

violent strains when the craft is under way. The step of the mast and

the centerboard trunk are parts that require the vigilant eye of an

expert.

Human nature is prone to temptation, and paint and putty are used quite

often to conceal many important defects in a craft advertised for sale.

The keen eye of a mechanic who has served his time to a boat-builder

will soon detect all deficiencies of this kind, will ferret out rotten

timbers, and under his advice and counsel you may succeed in picking up

at a bargain some sound, seaworthy and serviceable craft in which you

can enjoy yourself to your heart's content.

But if some rotten hull is foisted on you by an unscrupulous person you

will be apt to "kick yourself round the block," for she will be always

in need of repairs, and in the end, when she is finally condemned, you

will find on figuring up the cost that it would have been money in your

pocket if you had built a new boat.

The principal boat-builders of New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and

Massachusetts are men of high character, who take a pride in their work

(which is thoroughly first-class), and whose prices are strictly

moderate. Any one of these will construct a capital boat of good model

and fair speed. I am an old crank and a bigot in many things

appertaining to boats and the sea, but I hope that any reader of this

who is going to build a pleasure craft will follow my advice at least in

this instance: Let her be copper-fastened above and below the

water-line. Don't use a single galvanized nail or bolt in her

construction. See that the fastenings are clenched on a roove—not simply

turned down. Don't spoil the ship for a paltry ha'porth of tar. Many

builders, for the sake of economy, use galvanized iron throughout, and

will take a solemn affidavit that it is quite as good as copper. But in

the innermost cockles of their hearts they know they are wrong. Others

more conscientious use copper fastenings below the water-line and

galvanized iron above; but copper throughout is my cry, and so will I

ever maintain while I am on this side of the Styx.

Sometimes one may pick up a good serviceable boat at a Navy Yard sale.

Uncle Sam's boats are of fair design and well built. They are often

condemned because they are what is called "nail sick," a defect which

can be easily remedied. Occasionally a steamship's life-boat can be

bought for a trifle, and if it be fitted with a false keel with an iron

shoe on it, will prove thoroughly seaworthy and a moderately good

sailer.

Mr. E. F. Knight, the English barrister and author of the "Cruise of the

_Falcon_," tells how he bought a life-boat condemned by the Peninsular

and Oriental Company. She was thirty feet long with a beam of eight

feet, very strong, being built of double skins of teak, and, like all

the life-boats used by that company, an excellent sea boat. This craft

he timbered and decked, rigged her as a ketch, and crossed the North Sea

in her, going as far as Copenhagen and back, and encountering plenty of

bad weather during the adventurous voyage. Mr. Knight is a believer in

the pointed or life-boat stern for a small vessel. He was caught in a

northwest gale, in the Gulf of Heligoland, in the above-mentioned craft,

and had to sail sixty miles before a high and dangerous sea. His boat

showed no tendency to broach to, "but rushed straight ahead across the

steep sea in a fashion that gave us confidence and astonished us. Had

she had the ordinary yacht's stern to present to those following masses

of water, instead of a graceful wedge offering little resistance, we

should have had a very uncomfortable time of it. Many men dislike a

pointed stern and consider it ugly. However that may be it behaves

handsomely, and we should certainly recommend any amateur building a

sailing boat for coasting purposes to give her the life-boat stern."

Mr. Knight fitted his boat with lee boards, which no doubt served their

purpose admirably. I should, however, favor a false keel and an iron

shoe as being more efficient and less unsightly. I should not advise the

purchaser of a condemned life-boat to have her fitted with a

centerboard. The cost would be high, and unless the job was done in a

first-class manner by a man experienced at this sort of work it would be

very unsatisfactory.

A "nail-sick," clencher-built boat should be hauled up on the beach and

filled with water. Every leak should be marked on the outside with chalk

or white paint. After all the leaks have been discovered, run the water

out of her and dry her thoroughly. Next examine every nail and try the

lands or joinings of the planks with the blade of a very thin knife. Any

rivets which have worked loose must be taken out and replaced with nails

and rooves of a larger size. Through the chief parts of the bottom it

may be necessary to put an additional nail between every two originally

driven. Many of the old nails which are only a little slack should be

hardened at their clench by a few taps from inside, one hand holding a

"dollie" against the head of the nail on the outside. Melt a pound of

pitch in a gallon of boiling North Carolina tar and give her bottom a

good coat inside, filling the lands or ledges well. The garboard strake

fastenings and also those of the hooded ends should be carefully

caulked. So should the seams. The seams of the planking should also be

caulked.

There are various methods of making a boat unsinkable. Cork is sometimes

used, but it takes up too much room and is not so buoyant as air. Copper

or zinc cases, made to fit under the thwarts and in various odd corners,

have been fitted in boats, but their cost is high. Amateurs have used

powder flasks and cracker cans, with their covers soldered on, cigar

boxes, covered with duck and painted, bladders inflated with air, etc.,

etc. A boat displacing one ton will take about forty cubic feet of air

to make her unsinkable.

                                  III.

                       TRIAL SPIN IN A CAT-BOAT.

Before getting a cat-boat under way from an anchorage, or casting adrift

from moorings, the captain should see all gear clear, that the

centerboard works easily in its trunk, and that oars, rowlocks and a

baler are aboard. An oar is very handy for turning a boat's head round

in a light air when she has barely steerage way on; and in case you are

confronted with a flat calm, a pair of oars are indispensable for

working homeward. A boat-hook, too, should not be neglected. There is a

story that I heard in the forecastle, of a mean old Dutch skipper who

left his new anchor ashore on purely economic grounds. He was afraid it

might rust, I suppose. The result of this thrifty dodge was the loss of

his vessel on the Goodwin Sands. My counsel to the young boat-skipper is

to see that his anchor is snugly stowed away forward, and that his

chain—if his cable is of chain—is properly shackled to the ring of the

anchor, and that the inner end of the cable is fast to the heel of the

mast by a lashing that can be cut if it is necessary to slip at any

time. If the cable is of rope, take care that it is not made fast to the

ring with a slippery hitch. Anchors cost money, and a bend that will not

come adrift is quite simple to make.

Cast the tyers off the mainsail and hoist it, pulling up best on the

throat halyards and then "swigging" on the peak till the after-leech is

taut and the sail begins to wrinkle slightly at the throat. While you

are setting the sail, let the sheet fly. Next coil down the throat and

peak halyards clear for running, and see that the mainsheet is free from

kinks and coiled so that it can be eased off at a moment's notice

without any danger of jamming in the block. A kink in the mainsheet has

capsized many a cat-boat. Before you reeve a new mainsheet, stretch it

well and take all the kinks out of it. Take care that the running parts

of all sheets and halyards are coiled uppermost, with the ends

underneath.

Let us suppose that there is a nice breeze blowing and that your

intention is to essay a four or five mile beat to windward, and then

conclude your trial trip with a run home. Cast adrift from your moorings

or get your anchor aboard, as the case may be, and start out on

whichever tack is convenient. When on the starboard tack the boom is

over to port, and _vice versa_. Lower the centerboard and fill away on

the boat with one hand on the tiller and the other holding the

mainsheet, which should never be belayed, but may be held by half a turn

round the cleat.

Do not make the mistake of trimming in the sheet too flat, but let the

boom off till it is well on the quarter and keep the sail well full, not

allowing it to shiver. This is called steering "full-and-by," which

signifies as close to the wind as possible with the sail not shaking. If

your boat is well balanced—that is, if her weights are well adjusted and

her sail of proper cut—she will carry quite a little weather helm. So

much so that if you allow the rudder to come amidships or on a line with

the keel she will fly up in the wind and her sails will shake. This is

by no means a fault unless it is carried to excess, and it may be said,

indeed, that there is something radically wrong with a craft that

requires lee helm—a defect that should be remedied at once.

The young sailor should bear in mind that to accomplish the best results

in beating to windward the sail should always be kept full. Nothing is

gained by sailing a boat right in the wind's eye with the sail

shivering. The boat then points higher but she goes to leeward like a

crab. Instances have been known of a fore-and-aft racing yacht sailing

within three points of the wind, but these are rare, indeed. The

ordinary cat-boat will not often do better than pointing up within four

points of the breeze, and her best windward work is generally thus

accomplished. There are occasions, indeed, when what is known as a

"fisherman's luff" may be indulged in with profit, such as when rounding

a mark or shooting up to an anchorage where there is little room. The

maneuver consists in luffing the boat up into the wind so that the sails

shake, and she shoots dead to windward by her own momentum. If the boat

is a heavy one she will shoot quite a distance. Care must be taken to

put the helm up and fill on her before she loses way, or she will get

"in irons" and acquire sternway, or perhaps pay off on the other tack.

If a boat acquires sternway the helm must be shifted at once. The rudder

will now produce the reverse effect to what it would if the boat were

going ahead. Putting the tiller to starboard turns the vessel's head to

port, and _vice versa_ in the case of sternway.

The beginner will find that his boat spins along quite merrily and obeys

the slightest touch of the tiller. He should not relax his vigilance in

the least, but should keep his weather eye skinned for sudden gusts of

wind or catspaws which may be seen ruffling the water to windward, in

timely season before they strike the boat. As the little craft begins to

heel or list over to the pressure, luff up a little so that the

fore-leech of the sail begins to shiver. If there is not weight enough

in the puff to put the lee rail under, sail her along with just the

suspicion of a shake in the luff of the sail, so that if she goes over

far enough for the water to threaten to come over the lee coamings and

deluge the cockpit you can put your helm down and luff up until the boat

comes nearly head to wind, at the same time lowering away your sail and

making preparations for taking in a reef.

If you are a novice, and the water is neither too rough nor too deep and

the breeze seems likely to last, and you think your craft is not up to

carrying a whole mainsail, there is no reason why you should not drop

anchor and reef your sail in leisurely and comfortable fashion. If you

feel at all nervous take in a couple of reefs.

After sail has been shortened set the mainsail, hoist up the anchor

again and thresh her at it. You will observe that she inclines less to

the puffs under the pressure of the reduced sail, and that the lee

gunwale is always well clear of the water. Watch the boat well; look out

for coming squalls, and be prepared to ease off the sheet and luff up

instantly should occasion arise. If there are other boats in company

with you tacking toward the same point you must remember that those on

the starboard tack have the right of way, and thus when you are on the

port tack you must keep clear of them. I would not advise a novice in a

boat on the port tack to try and cross the bow of a boat on the

starboard tack unless there is plenty of room. Distances on the water

are deceptive to the tyro, and it is well to run no risk of collision.

If the boat on the port tack will not keep away for you when you are on

the starboard tack, and seems to be making for you with the intention of

running you down, keep cool. Stand by to put your helm hard down so as

to luff right up in the wind or even to go about. If you put your helm

up and keep away, and a collision ensues, you would probably have to pay

all the damage. The strict legal rule is that the vessel on the

starboard tack must keep her course and neither luff nor bear up. If

this rule is observed you will be within the letter of the law. In yacht

racing a yacht on the port tack can be disqualified if she is struck by

a yacht which is on the starboard tack, no matter how the striking

happened; if she herself strikes a yacht which is on the starboard tack;

if she causes a yacht which is on the starboard tack to bear away to

avoid a collision. It is apparent, therefore, that no wise helmsman will

run any risks. If he is on the port tack he will give way with a good

grace and try to look pleasant. It is better than a collision, which is

sure in a brisk breeze to do a lot of damage, and may possibly cause

serious personal injuries or even loss of life.

The beginner may, after threshing to windward for an hour or so, begin

to feel homesick. Let him then put his helm up, easing the mainsheet off

at the same time until he gets the boom at a right angle with the mast

and the boat dead before the wind. He will at this time have to pay

particular attention to the steering, giving the boat "small helm" and

giving it to her quickly in order to keep her steady on her course.

Steering a cat-boat in a stiff breeze and lumpy water requires both

skill and experience. I should counsel a green hand to lower the peak of

the mainsail and run her under easy sail until he acquires the art. In

that case, should he accidentally gybe the boom over, the result is not

likely to be particularly disastrous; whereas, if the sail were peaked

up, the boom might snap in two or the boat herself might broach to.

The centerboard should be hoisted up into the trunk when running before

the wind, and the boom should be kept well topped up. In some small

cat-boats there is no topping lift and the sail has only one halyard,

which hoists both the throat and peak. This is a faulty rig. Throat and

peak halyards should be separate, and a topping lift should always be

fitted.

I think it my duty to warn the inexperienced boat sailer against gybing

his little craft. It is a maneuver that requires skill and care,

especially in a brisk breeze. If you must gybe, lower the peak so as to

"scandalize" the sail, and haul the boom well aboard as the helm is put

up. As the wind shifts from dead astern and comes on the other quarter,

carrying the boom over, ease off the sheet handsomely and take care to

meet her promptly with the helm as she flies to, which is invariably the

case. You can then hoist the peak up again.

If you have women and children aboard the boat, gybing should never be

resorted to if the wind is strong. It is far preferable to luff up into

the wind and tack and then keep off again.

In coming to anchor or picking up moorings make the boat describe a good

sweep, so that she may come up in the wind and lose her way exactly

where you wish. You can then either let go the anchor or pick up the

moorings, as the case may be. Then lower the sail, furl it snugly, put

on the sail cover, stow away everything neatly, haul taut the halyards

and the mainsheet, which you should coil up, and leave everything tidy

and in readiness for getting under way next time.

When, on a wind with a light breeze and in smooth water, it becomes

necessary to heave to to let a boat come alongside, haul the mainsheet

flat aft and haul the fore and jib sheets a-weather. If in a fresh

breeze, flatten in the mainsheet, let the jib sheet flow, and haul the

fore sheet a-weather.

For small open boats the anchor should weigh one pound for every foot of

length up to twenty feet length. If the boat is ballasted, another half

pound per foot should be added.

If you have the misfortune to get stuck fast in the mud or on a sand

bank, you must act quickly. If you ground while running before the wind,

lower your sails at once. If you have a dinghy, run out your kedge

anchor, with a line fast to it, astern into deep water and try to haul

off. Work the helm to and fro. Run from side to side so as to loosen the

boat from her muddy bed. If the tide is rising and your kedge does not

drag, you will be sure to get off.

If you run aground while close-hauled, let go the mainsheet, put the

helm hard over and try to back her off with the jib, at the same time

using a boathook or oar to try to shove her into deep water. If you have

any passengers, concentrate all their weight as far aft as possible.

Send out a kedge, and let all hands clap to on the line. If the tide is

on the ebb, you may probably have to wait till high water. Now comes a

ticklish crisis. If your craft is beamy, with full bilges, she will take

the ground and lie easily as the water recedes. If, on the other hand,

your little ship is of the deep and narrow kind and is not provided with

"legs," you will have to improvise something in that direction to

prevent her from careening on her side. "Legs" are not fashionable on

this side of the Atlantic. They are props of wood shod with iron, one

end of which rests on the bottom, while the other fits under the

channels, or is lashed to a shroud. If you have no other spar available,

unbend the head of the mainsail from the gaff. Stick it in the mud jaws

downward close to the rigging and lash it firmly to a shroud. List the

boat over to the side the gaff is out by guying over the boom and

putting any extra weight you happen to have on the same side. The boat

will then take the ground in safety.

                                  IV.

                             THE YAWL RIG.

Though I recommend the catboat as a general craft for knocking about and

having a good time in, I am not blind to the advantages of the yawl rig.

In fact, the bold young seaman contemplating long cruises and sometimes

venturing out of sight of land will find that the yawl rig possesses no

mean merit. For single-handed cruising its worth has long been

recognized. The sails are so divided that they are small and easy to

handle, but this division of sail inevitably decreases the speed and

also the weatherly qualities of the boat. If we take a catboat and

change her into a yawl rig she will not be nearly so fast, nor will she

point so close to the wind. There are fathoms of scientific reasons for

this with which I will not bother my readers. Suffice it to say that it

has been demonstrated practically over and over again.

But although the yawl-rigged sailing boat of the smallest type has at

least three sails—foresail, mainsail and mizzen—yet the last named,

after once being set, practically takes care of itself. The mainsail,

too, is quite easily handled, the whole sail being in the body of the

boat. The foresail sometimes gives a little annoyance in taking it in,

if the boat is pitching her nose under in a steep sea. This, however, is

unavoidable. Headsails on all sailing vessels, big or little, have never

been conducive to dry skins under certain conditions of wind and sea.