Chapter XX (1)

Nautical Terms in Common Use, from which all
Obsolete and Antiquated Terms, such as were in use
aboard the Ark, have been eliminated 236

_Addenda_—Recent Changes of Sail Plan and Rigging
in Modern Craft 248

ILLUSTRATIONS AND DIAGRAMS.

Frontispiece. _Turning the Stake._

PAGE

Yawl in a Squall, 41

Latest Type of Fin-Keel, 49

Sail Plan of Modern Fin-Keel, 54

Seawanhaka, 21-foot Knockabout, 56

Seawanhaka Knockabout, 57

Sail Plan Seawanhaka Knockabout, 58

Drogue, or Sea Anchor, 70

Diagram of Floating Anchor, 71

Floating Anchor in Use, 72

The Boston Knockabout, _Gosling_, 75

Plan of Oil Distributor, 80

In Dry Dock, 98

Hauled Out for Painting, 98

Making Ready for a New Dress, 114

Pleasant Cat-Boat Sailing, 119

Sailing Under Varying Conditions of Wind, 128

Running Before the Wind, 130

Gybing, 131

Close Hauled on Port Tack, 132

Close Hauled on Starboard Tack, 133

Dead Beat to Windward, 134

A Long Leg and a Short Leg, 138

The Manœuvre of Tacking, 139

Whip Purchase and Traveler, 140

Jib and Mainsail Rig, 141

Sprit Rig, 143

Leg-of-Mutton Rig, 147

Cat Rig, 148

Balance Lug Rig, 150

Sliding Gunter Rig, 151

Detail of Sliding Gunter Rig, 152

Folding Centerboard, 154

Shroud, Deadeye, Lanyard, 156

Turnbuckle, 157

Topmast Rigging, 158

Rig of Running Bowsprit, 159

Horse for Main Sheet, 161

Gear for Hauling Out Loose-footed Mainsail, 166

Luncheon in the Cock-pit, 179

Scowing an Anchor, 180

"Half Raters," 184

The Compass, 193

Marlinespike, 207

Knots and Splices, 208

Cautionary Signals, 221

Storm Signals, 222

A Yachtsman's Stove, 223

The Ideal Fry-pan, 225

A Nest of Stew-Pans, 227

Ice Tub, 229

A Traveling Companion, 231

The Sloop Yacht, 246

The Cutter Yacht, 247

The Sail Plan and Rig of a Modern Schooner, 249

The Sail Plan and Rig of a Modern Yawl, 251

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. The yawl is always under control, and in this attribute lies her chief charm. When a squall is bearing down all one has to do is to lower the mainsail and pass a tyer or two round it to keep it muzzled. When the gust strikes the boat she is under easy sail and is not likely to come to grief. If the squall is of exceptional strength, ease off the foresheet and keep the sail shaking a little until you have felt the full strength of the wind. Act then as judgment may dictate. If the blow is very heavy and seems likely to last it may be necessary to take in the foresail and the mizzen, and close reef the mainsail.

If you are sailing with the wind a-beam and a squall smites you it may not be necessary to lower the mainsail at all. Ease the sheet right off so as to spill the wind, and you will pass safely through the ordeal without parting a rope yarn.

In getting under way or in working up to anchorage in a crowded harbor or roadstead the yawl rig is one of the handiest known, for by having the mainsail furled the speed of the boat is reduced so that you can pick your way among the craft without danger of collision or striking flaws. So many famous cruises have been made in small yawl-rigged craft that there can be no doubt about their adaptability for such work, and to the man anxious for more ambitious achievement than merely sailing in rivers, bays and sheltered harbors, I most certainly would recommend the rig.

Despite the yawl's certain safety for single handed cruising, I am not in favor of sailing by myself. I prefer a congenial companion to share whatever pleasure or peril may be encountered. Of course one must exercise some wise discrimination in the choice of a cruising companion; for when once at sea there is no way of ridding yourself of an objectionable mate except throwing him overboard, which would not be exactly fair to him. Besides, he might throw you overboard, which would be bad for you. There are, however, hundreds of good yachtsmen and boatmen who have made long voyages alone and have written charming accounts of their nautical expeditions. John McGregor's "Voyage Alone in the Yawl Rob Roy" and E. Middleton's "Cruise of the Kate" (also a yawl) are two entertaining books of sea travel which I heartily recommend to those who contemplate sailing by themselves.

While I am in favor of a catboat for general purposes in the neighborhood of New York, yet when long distance trips are to be made the yawl rig will, on the whole, be found preferable.

That keen sportsman, Mr. W. H. H. Murray, is a firm believer in the yawl rig for cruising. In OUTING for May, 1891, there appeared a most valuable article from his facile pen entitled "How I sail _Champlain_." The _Champlain_ is of sharpie model, thirty feet on the water-line. She is of remarkably strong construction, her oaken keel being sixteen by twenty inches amidships and tapering properly fore and aft. Through this keel is sunk a mortise four inches wide and sixteen feet long, through which the centerboard works. This "fin" is of oak planking thick enough to easily enter the case when hoisted, but leaving little space between it and the case when in use. The centerboard is sixteen feet long, four feet deep forward and seven feet aft, and it has fifteen hundred pounds of iron for ballast. Mr. Murray says: "When the centerboard is lowered this mass of metal is eight feet below her water-line, and guarantees a stability adequate to resist any pressure which the wind can put upon her sails and the sails withstand. Of course I am speaking with the supposition that the boat receives, when under stress, judicious management."

The centerboard, which weighs two thousand pounds, is lifted by a "differential hoist," by means of which "the helmsman, with one hand on the tiller, can, if need occurs, with the other easily run the heavy board rapidly up into the case. The value of this adjustment can only be appreciated by a cruising yachtsman. It places him in perfect control of his craft under all conditions of varying depth of water and difficult weather. In a heavy seaway; in rapidly shoaling water on an unknown coast; when suddenly compelled to beat up against a swiftly flowing tide; or when finding himself unexpectedly near a reef, unobserved through carelessness or not plainly charted—this hoist is simply priceless. It is not over expensive, and can easily be adjusted to any yacht."

The cockpit is roomy, and, because of its high coamings, is also deep. The cabin is sixteen feet long, the forward half being permanently roofed. The after-half of the cabin is constructed, as to its roof, in equal divisions. The forward-half is tracked, and the after-half is grooved to run upon it. Mr. Murray finds this arrangement most convenient, as it gives to the yacht such coolness and comfort as cannot be obtained in a cabin permanently roofed. The whole roof is so fitted to the coamings that it can be quickly and easily removed and stowed, leaving the yacht to be sailed as an open one, decked from stem to midship section. This arrangement is an admirable one for harbor sailing in bright weather or for racing.

Regarding the handiness of _Champlain_ Mr. Murray says: "All yachtsmen know what a disagreeable job it is to reef a sloop or cat-boat in rough water, and from this cause many skippers will delay reefing as long as possible and often until too late. And because of this many accidents happen yearly. In this respect the yawl rig shows to the greatest advantage and commends itself to all sensible yachtsmen. For when the moment has come to reef, if the boat is running free her head is brought up to the wind, the mizzen and jib sheets trimmed in, and with the main boom well inboard the pennants are lashed and the reef points tied down, when she is let off again and goes bowling along on her former course. In _Champlain_ the three reef cringles on the leech of the mainsail are all within easy reach from the cockpit, and the skipper, without leaving the tiller, can lash the pennants, and hence, with only one assistant, the three reefs can successively, if need be, be tied down. Indeed, so well do the jib and mizzen sail work in unison, that unless the wind is very puffy and variable, the helm can be lashed and she will hold her course steadily onward while the skipper is tying down the after reef points. It is a matter of pleasant surprise to one not accustomed to this rig how easily and rapidly a reef in most trying conditions can be taken in the mainsail of a yawl whose sails are well balanced.

"Moreover, unless the squall is a very heavy one, a yawl can be eased through it without reefing at all. For when the wind comes roaring down and the white line of froth and spray is right upon you, the boat can be brought up to the wind and the mainsheet eased handsomely out, and with jib and mizzen drawing finely and the mainboom off to leeward the wind whistles harmlessly between the masts, while the yacht, only slightly disturbed in her balance, sails steadily along. Or, if the squall is a heavy one and there is no time to reef down before it strikes, the yacht can be luffed up, the mainsail let down at a run, and with the belly of the sail held within the lazy-lines the yacht is under safe conditions. But ordinarily it is better to reef or even tie down the mainsail snugly, and as in a yawl it can be done rapidly and easily there is no reason why it should not be done and everything be kept shipshape.

"In cruising I often sailed _Champlain_ under jib and mizzen alone, with the mainsail stowed and the boom crutched and tied snugly down amidships, especially in the night time when it was very dark and the weather foul. Under this scant canvas with a favorable wind she would sail along at a very fair rate of speed and even make good progress in beating up against quite a sea, and I need not say that it adds greatly to the pleasure of cruising in a small yacht with only one man for your crew to feel that you have your boat in a condition of perfect control. It is evident that with no other rig can this condition to the same degree be obtained or such a sense of absolute security be enjoyed.

"To an amateur nothing is more trying than coming to or getting away from moorings, especially if the wind is blowing strongly and the anchorage ground is crowded with other yachts, not to speak of vessels of commerce, bateaux, tugs and ferryboats. Under such circumstances it is no easy matter for any, save an expert, to work a sloop or cat-boat or schooner safety out through the crowded harbor or basin to the open water beyond; and it is all the more trying to a skipper if there is a strong tide running at the moment. But with a yawl the difficulties of the situation are almost wholly removed. For with mainsail unlashed he can hoist his anchor or cast off from moorings, and under his two small sails work his boat out slowly and safely from the jammed basin or crowded space within the breakwater. He must be a tyro indeed who cannot safely manage a yawl under the worst possible conditions of this sort.

"In cruising, if the weather is threatening it is well to carry a single reef in the mainsail until it clears up, for a yawl works well under such a sail with jib and mizzen furled. In such trim the yacht is as a cat-boat with a small sail, and as her main boom is shorter than a cat-boat's or a sloop's she can be worked in a very heavy sea with her boom's end well above the rollers. And I know of nothing more trying to a skipper than to sail his craft with his boom's end half the time under water. In such a condition the spars, rigging and boat are under a stress and strain which every prudent skipper dreads and seeks to avoid, and it speaks volumes in favor of the yawl rig to say that with it such a trying condition can never arise. Indeed a yawl under a double-reefed mainsail alone is in perfect trim for scudding. If well modeled she will neither yaw nor thrash the water with her boom's end, but career along almost with the speed of the wind itself. For her canvas is low down, as it should be, and her boom carried well above the seething water. In this shape, moreover, she can lay a course with the wind well over her quarter without strain, and it must be a very hard blow and rough water indeed to give anxiety to any on board of her."

That the _Champlain_ is a capital sea-boat is beyond question. Her owner thus describes a run on the lower St. Lawrence in returning from a cruise to the Saguenay: "We passed Baie St. Paul in the evening, whirled along by a rising gale blowing directly up the river. The night was pitchy dark, the tide running fiercely on the ebb at the rate of five miles an hour at the least. The water was very wild, as one can easily imagine. Stemming such a current it would not do to shorten sail if one wished to pass Cape Tourmente and get into quiet water, the Isle of Orleans and the north shore, so we let every sail stand, cleated the sheets tightly and let her drive. How she did tear onward! The froth and spume lay deep on her pathways and after-deck. The waves crested fiercely, rolling against the current, and the black water broke into phosphor as we slashed through it. I do not recall that I ever saw a yacht forced along more savagely. How the water roared under the ledges and along the rough shores of Tourmente! And I was profoundly grateful when we were able to bear off to starboard and run into the still water back of Orleans. Perhaps that midnight cup of coffee did not taste well! Its heat ran through my chilled veins like Chartreuse. I can taste it yet!"

The ordinary jib-and-mainsail rigged boat, as seen in the waters round New York, might easily be improved upon. In the first place, the majority of them are too much after the skimming-dish pattern to suit my fancy. Then the mast is stepped as a rule too far forward for the best work, and renders reefing difficult, as she will not "lay to" comfortably under her headsail, whereas if the mast of a boat is stepped well aft, cutter fashion, the boat will lay to quite well, and reefing the mainsail is easy. The American sloop rig is open to the same criticism, and that is why the English way of rigging a single-sticker has been adopted in all our new racing craft. To my mind there is nothing more hideous than a "bobbed" jib. It renders good windward work impossible, as it causes a boat to sag off to leeward and is in other ways a detriment. A small boat with the mast stepped in the right place and carrying a jib and a mainsail is, however, a very satisfactory craft, good at beating to windward as well as reaching or running. I should advise that a "spit-fire" or storm jib be carried along whenever a sail of any distance is contemplated, and also a gaff-headed trysail, so that the adventurous skipper may be always prepared for storm and stress of weather. This extra "muslin" takes up little room when properly rolled up.

The simplest and safest rig in the world is the leg-of-mutton sail. It is the one fitted exactly for river work, where one is sure to encounter puffs of some force as ravines are reached or valleys passed. To amateurs it is the sail _par excellence_ for experimenting with, for no matter how many blunders are made a mishap is well nigh impossible. The leg-of-mutton sail has no gaff, nor need it have a boom. There is little or no leverage aloft, and all the power for mischief it has can be taken out of it by slacking off the sheet and spilling the wind. The learner might with advantage practice with a sail of this shape until he becomes proficient. If he eventually determines upon a jib and mainsail or yawl rig for permanent use, he may avoid wasting it by having it made over into a storm trysail.

I would strongly advise every amateur skipper to shun the ballast-fin device as he would shun cold poison or a contagious disease. That is unless he intends to go in for a regular racing career, in which case the cups carried off might possibly compensate him for the woe, the anguish and the premature gray hairs inseparable from this contrivance. Mind you these remarks of mine apply only to amateurs and not to grizzled sailing-masters of yachts who fully understand how to navigate and handle all types of pleasure craft. Theoretically the ballast-fin has many obvious advantages.