When your boat is out of water open her wide to the fresh air. Rig up a

windsail, and let the healthful breezes circulate through her interior.

If she has hatches or skylights, lift them off; if portholes, unscrew

them and give the wind a chance to blow all close impurities away. Rig

the pump and relieve her of all malodorous bilge water, the most

nauseating and offensive evil that is met with by mariners. Take up the

cabin flooring. If the ballast consists of pig iron, rout it out, clean

off the rust, and before replacing give it a good coat of coal tar,

applied hot. Clean the limbers and flush them with plenty of water,

using a bristly broom to remove the dirt. Splash the water about

lavishly, and then pump it out dry. If there happens to be a cooking

stove below, as there generally is in a vessel of any size, light a

roaring fire and do your best to kill all fungoid germs or spores that

may have gathered in damp places during the winter. Examine the ceiling

for leaks.

Should, through imprudent oversight, any bedding, matting, carpet, or

clothing, have been left in the boat since last season, take them out

and have them cleansed and dried. If mold and mildew have attacked them,

destroy without compunction, and resolve to take better care next time.

After thoroughly cleansing the craft inside from the eyes of her to

right aft with soap and hot water, you can paint her cabin, if you deem

she needs it, using enamel paint if you are willing to go to a little

extra expense, or, at any rate, if not, using a generous quantity of

spar varnish with the oil and dryers you mix your white lead with. This

dries good and hard and is easily cleansed with warm water, soap and a

sponge, and is far more durable and satisfactory than paint mixed in the

ordinary manner. Two coats should be given.

The next process is to clean the deck of the coat of varnish with which

it was doubtless covered when the yacht was prepared for the winter. To

accomplish this in the most efficacious manner, procure from a ship

chandler a sufficient quantity of one of the many preparations of

caustic soda, with which the market is well equipped. Dissolve it in an

iron bucket in hot water, mixing it strong enough to act as a powerful

detergent. These preparations vary in power, so it will be well to

experiment on a section of the deck with a sample and then add more soda

or more water as required.

After sundown apply plentifully to the deck with a mop, rubbing the

mixture well into the planks. Next morning before sunrise arm yourself

with a good hard deck-scrubber, and set to work in earnest, using plenty

of hot water and scrubbing the deck planks (fore and aft, mind you,

always, and never athwart-ship) until every particle of the old varnish

and every speck and stain is removed. If the detergent is allowed to

remain on the deck while the sun is shining, it is bound to eat into the

planks and burn them.

The next operation is the painting of the boat inside and out. There are

many excellent compositions for coating the hull below the water-line,

but if you do not care to experiment with them, use the recipe given in

the chapter on "Useful Hints and Recipes." Choose a clear, dry day and

apply the paint. For above the water-line use pure white lead of the

best quality reduced to the proper consistency with equal parts of raw

and boiled linseed oil and copal varnish. Add a dash of dryers and a few

drops of blue paint, strain and apply.

Personally, I prefer to varnish the deck of a small craft, though I am

quite willing to acknowledge the superior beauty of a spotless deck

white as a hound's tooth. The friends of a yachtsman often wear boots

with ugly nails in them, both on soles and heels, and these are apt to

play havoc with the spick and span appearance of a deck innocent of

varnish. After cleaning the decks thoroughly let them dry well. Wait for

a sunny morning and a northwesterly wind, when the air is comparatively

free from moisture. Get your can of spar varnish out, and after sweeping

the decks and dusting them thoroughly with a feather-duster, apply with

a regular varnish brush of convenient size. It is advisable to pour out

the varnish into a shallow jar, a marmalade pot for instance, in small

quantities as required, as varnish loses its virtue rapidly by exposure

to sun and air. It is expedient, therefore, that the varnish can, or

bottle, should never be left uncorked. The varnishing process should not

be undertaken until the last thing, after the boat has been cleaned and

painted inside and out, spars and blocks scraped and polished, standing

rigging set up, running rigging rove and sails bent. Two thin coats of

varnish will be ample for the decks and spars, as well as all the

hardwood fittings and trimmings of the yacht inside and out.

Should the varnish be too thick to flow freely from the brush, _don't_

thin it with oil or spirits of turpentine unless you wish to dim its

luster and deprive it of much of its preservative quality. Simply place

the varnish can in a bucket of hot water, and let it remain there until

it gets warm, when you will experience no difficulty in applying it to

advantage. Another hint worth taking is never to buy cheap and inferior

varnish. The best is none too good.

These suggestions may appear superfluous to a professional yachtsman,

who, if he happens to read this yarn, might feel tempted to observe:

"Why, every darned chump knows that!" As a matter of fact, amateurs as a

rule are not familiar with these little "wrinkles," which are in many

cases tricks of the trade. This yarn is spun for amateurs only, and not

for the edification or instruction of veteran professionals. About half

a century ago, when I first became a boat owner, I should have been

delighted to get the fruits of a practical man's ripe experience.

Fashionable craft with spoon bows and long overhangs forward have

abolished the long bowsprits and simplified the head gear. The short

bowsprit is secured with a steel bobstay extending from the stem to the

cranze iron on the bowsprit, the bobstay being set up taut with a

turnbuckle of galvanized iron. The bowsprit shrouds are of steel wire

also set up by turnbuckles.

The polemast has also done away with all the topmast gear, the mast

being secured by a forestay which sets up to the stem head and by one or

sometimes two shrouds on each side set up by turnbuckles. The days of

deadeyes and lanyards and of reefing bowsprits are departed. A sailor to

be quite down-to-date should combine with his nautical knowledge some of

the art of the blacksmith. Strength and lightness and handiness are the

watchwords of to-day, and with modern methods the gear of a small craft

is so simple that it takes little time to rig her.

I suppose I may take it for granted that all the running rigging was

neatly coiled up and labeled and stored ashore when you went out of

commission last fall. I know many smart young yachtsmen who while away

many a long winter evening with pleasure and profit overhauling sheets

and halyards, stropping blocks, varnishing them, splicing, serving and

generally repairing all of the running gear that needs attention, making

manropes, scraping and polishing the gangway ladder, the tiller, etc.,

and in other ways preparing for their summer's amusement. The study of

navigation, the rule of the road at sea, the coast pilot, the learning

of marlinspike seamanship and a rudimentary knowledge of the use of the

palm and needle, so that if a sail should need some simple repairs they

may be made without loss of time and without seeking aid from a

sailmaker—all these the amateur will find useful. It is astonishing how

much one can learn in one winter if he devotes only an hour a night to

the acquirement of nautical lore.

But supposing that his running gear has not been touched since it was

unrove, it will take only a short time to get it in tip-top order, and

the work may be done in the evening when it is too dark to potter about

the yacht.

While you are about it you may as well make a thorough job of this

fitting out. Shin up the mast and make a tail-block fast to the masthead

as high as possible, reeving a gantline through it so that you may sit

in a boatswain's chair or in a bowline while you survey the stick. If

the collars of the shrouds or forestay show any sign of chafe, they must

come down and be served over again with spun yarn or covered with canvas

sewn on with a palm and needle, using plenty of lead colored paint in

the process to prevent rust. Examine the masthead carefully for weak

parts, which generally are to be found in the wake of the rigging. If

rot and signs of serious strains are met with, it is evident that a new

mast is needed. Longitudinal cracks may be disregarded unless they are

glaringly apparent, but transverse cracks should be viewed with

suspicion.

If, after close inspection, you conclude that the mast is good enough to

stand, you may as well begin to scrape it, engaging your chum to lower

you down by your gantline. After scraping, use sandpaper until it is

polished smooth. Then give it a couple of coats of spar varnish. If the

boat has a bowsprit, treat it in the same way. If she carries a topmast,

scrape and varnish it and the boom, gaff, spinnaker-boom, boathook and

the oars of your dinghy as well as all blocks ashore, wherever

convenient.

Next set up your rigging good and taut, taking care to stay the mast

perfectly plumb—no rake aft or forward. If you carry a topmast, send it

up and stay it in the usual way. Get your boom in position by means of

the gooseneck and the crotch; reeve your topping-lift and hook it on to

its place at the end of the boom. Get the gaff in place, hook on the

throat and peak halyards, and there you are all ready to bend sails.

It is imperative that your vessel, whether she be a cruiser pure and

simple or a racer, should have a well cut suit of sails. If it is your

intention to treat her to the luxury of a brand new suit, I hope that

you placed your order with a responsible sailmaker weeks ago. The winter

is the correct time to have your sails made, when the knights of the

palm and needle are not so apt to be rushed.

Yacht owners have the habit of procrastinating where sails are

concerned, and postpone their orders for new canvas to the very last

moment. This causes such a hurry in the loft that large orders are apt

to receive the first and best attention of the sailmaker, while the

owner of a moderate-sized vessel has to wait the foreman's convenience;

whereas, if an order is placed before, say, Christmas, one of the firm

is as likely as not to give the matter his personal attention, measure

your craft himself, and let the cut and the sit of the sails have the

benefit of his own supervision. It is also a fact that the sailmaking

firms make it a point to keep their best men at work all the year round,

while the mere ordinary workmen are "laid off" when the season closes.

The consequence is that the yachtsman who orders his sails in good time

has the advantage of the most skillful craftsmen in the market, and he

is likely, too, to have better prices quoted him than in the rush of the

season, when all hands are hard at it. Therefore, my advice is to take

early action and win the best results at the most favorable figure.

It was always my custom, before unbending my yacht's sails preparatory

to going out of commission, to summon my sailmaker aboard and take him

for a short trip, pointing out what I considered to be the defects in

the muslin and listening to his suggestions for their remedy. He would

make notes in his memorandum-book and inscribe certain hieroglyphic

marks on the sails themselves. When the canvas was unbent he would send

for it, make the repairs and alterations at his leisure and store the

sails for me until the spring, when I would find them in perfect

condition for setting. All this was done for moderate compensation,

considering the excellence of the workmanship.

The importance of a well-cut and well-sitting suit of sails cannot be

over-estimated. No matter how well the naval architect may have executed

his work in the design of a vessel's hull, if the sailmaker has failed

in his task, success in racing is an impossibility. You might just as

well expect a fast homing pigeon to attain his normal speed with a

crippled wing as a yacht to win a cup hampered by sails of poor material

and faulty construction.

If low-grade material is used, despite the best efforts of the

scientific sailmaker, the sails are sure to be unsatisfactory. The

climate on the Atlantic coast is peculiarly trying even to the finest

grades of cotton duck, which is assuredly the best fabric known that can

be used for the purpose of the sailmaker. The hot and arid westerly

winds dry out the sails so that they become soft and open, causing them

to stretch abnormally and to get full of what are technically termed

"hard places." The wind shifts to the eastward, a damp, moist quarter,

and the result is a severe shrinking, which, in conjunction with the

previous violent stretching, is enough to play havoc with the best and

closest woven material, no matter how scientifically designed and

constructed. You can imagine how a suit of sails of cheap and common

duck, botched by some ordinary tentmaker, would be likely to behave

under such circumstances.

My advice is to order your sails of a reputable firm of experience, have

them made of the best material, and take care that they are bent by a

man of judgment and skill and not by some habitué of a hay-mow or a

pig-drover fresh from the farm. I have known a suit of sails that cost

several hundred dollars irretrievably ruined by being overstretched in

the first instance by a sailing-master ignorant of the first principles

of his calling.

A well-known sailmaker, who has made sails for some of the crack racing

yachts of America, gives the following admirable instructions for

setting the sails of a 40-foot single-sticker: Cast off the tyers from

the mainsail; hook on the peak halyards; see that the gaff goes up

between the topping-lifts as you hoist up on the throat and peak

halyards; hoist up on the throat until the luff-rope is straight; if the

sail has a slide on the boom, haul out on it till the canvas is just

straight and smooth on the foot; too hard a pull will throw a heavy

strain on the diagonal, from the end of the boom to the jaws of the

gaff, giving a bad after leech when the peak is swayed up; next sway up

the luff pretty taut; it is not necessary to top the boom up to too

great an angle out of the crotch; man the peak halyards and hoist on

them until the after leech is so lifted that it spreads and stretches

every square inch of the after angle of the sail; as soon as the peak

begins to lift the outer end of the boom, the mainsheet should be made

fast (unless the boom extends so far over the taffrail that it would

bring an undue leverage on the boom and spring it to breaking); now

sweat up the peak halyards until the stretch is entirely taken out of

the halyard canvas; if the peak is hoisted beyond its proper angle, it

puts an undue strain on the diagonal, from the end of the gaff to the

center of effort of the sail, the consequence being a nasty gutter just

inside the leech, which gives rise to the groundless complaint that

there is a tight cloth inside the after leech. It should be remembered

that the trouble lies in stretching the head and foot of the sail too

taut, and over-setting, the peak.

These instructions are so clear as to be intelligible to the merest

tyro, and should be followed out on all occasions. A good mainsail costs

a large sum, and there is no reason why it should be ruined by neglect

of proper precautions.

In setting a thimble-headed topsail hoist away on the halyards, then

bowse the tack down with a purchase, then sheet it out to the gaff end

so that there shall be an exact and even strain on both foot and leech.

The proper angle of the jib-sheet depends entirely on the position its

clew occupies in relation to the stay. It should always hold the foot of

the sail a little more than it does the after leech, so as to allow the

proper flow, which is so effective as well as so beautiful.

If you determine that the craft's old suit is good enough for another

year, overhaul it for holes. Perhaps the sails have been stowed away

where rats or mice have had free access to them. If so, they will need

repairs. If they were rolled up damp, or stored in a damp place, they

will probably be badly mildewed. The unsightly stains of mildew can be

partially removed by scrubbing the sail on both sides with fresh water

and soap, and afterward rubbing whiting over it and leaving it to dry

and bleach in the sun.

If the sails are discolored, they may be improved by laying them on a

plot of clean sand, scrubbing them on both sides with sea-water and

salt-water soap, and afterward sprinkling them with salt-water in which

whiting is dissolved until it looks like milk. Let them bleach in the

sun until one side is quite dry, and then turn them over.

To prevent mildew from spoiling the sails, keep them dry and well

ventilated. If a sail is furled when damp, the inner folds will mildew.

Always roll up a wet sail loosely, and shake it out and dry it the first

chance you get; in any case open it out and give it air, even if rain

continues to fall. Remember that new sails will mildew very quickly

because of the "dressing" in the duck, which sets up a fungoid growth or

fermentation. For these reasons don't depend too much on your watertight

sail-covers, but give your canvas frequent air and sun baths if you wish

your "white wings" to remain things of beauty.

The same attention to the sails to avoid mildew should be given to the

hull to prevent dry rot, which is quite as frequently caused by the lack

of ventilation as by the use of unseasoned timber in the construction of

a vessel.

The principal labor of fitting out has been described, but the cabin is

yet to be fixed up for occupation, and stores taken aboard for the

opening cruise. It is well to have a list prepared of the actual

necessities in the way of supplies that must not be left ashore when you

get under way. Here are a few things that cannot be dispensed with:

Anchor and chain, small kedge anchor, tow-rope, life-buoy, side-lights,

anchor light, oil and wicks, bell, foghorn, compass with binnacle, hand

lead, chart of waters you intend to navigate, dinghy, either on board or

towing astern, properly fitted with oars, boathook, rowlocks and plug,

all secured by lashings. A good supply of fresh water should be taken

along, and a stock of provisions suitable to the tastes of the skipper

and his guests. An awning for the cockpit may prove a great comfort both

in hot and rainy weather, when becalmed or at anchor.

I recommend that a storm trysail, a storm jib and a drogue, or

sea-anchor, form part of the yacht's equipment, and that they be stowed

away in some place convenient for instant use. Perhaps they may never be

needed, but it is often the unforeseen that happens, and in this world

of uncertainty it is best to be always ready for an emergency.

Thus prepared the yachtsman may safely venture for a cruise, selecting

those waters with which he is most familiar or most anxious to explore.

He will find April an ideal month for yachting, and if he puts in his

time to the best advantage he will have his craft "tuned up" to racing

pitch, his amateur crew so admirably drilled and disciplined, and his

sails and gear in such capital shape that, if there is really any speed

in the craft at all, prizes should be the inevitable reward of his skill

and his enterprise.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: "MAKING READY FOR A NEW DRESS."]

VIII.

FITTING OUT FOR A CRUISE.

In equipping a boat for a cruise, even in summer, it is always well to

remember that gales of wind are not unusual even in July. I once knew it

to blow with spiteful ferocity in the last week of that month, and to

disperse the Atlantic Yacht Club squadron and drive them to seek shelter

in various harbors of Long Island Sound, between Black Rock and New

Haven. Out of the whole fleet only two yachts reached their destination,

New London. One was the sloop _Athlon_, Vice-Commodore E. B. Havens, on

board of which I was a guest, and the forty-footer _Chispa_. It was

quite an exciting and hard thrash to windward in the teeth of an

easterly gale, but we got there. Had not the two yachts mentioned been

properly prepared for such an exigency, they also would have been forced

to bear up and run for some land-locked haven in which to linger until

the wind had blown itself out. Although these summer gales generally

exhaust themselves in twenty-four hours, they are often quite savage

while they last, and the sensible yachtsman will always be prepared to

meet them. His standing and running rigging will be in first-class

condition; whatever storm canvas he carries will be ready for bending at

a moment's notice; his sea anchor or drogue will also be at hand for

letting go should the necessity arise.

Of course I need not impress upon the amateur boat sailer that a compass

should be taken along on a cruise. But I have mingled a good deal with

the owners of small craft, and have met many who either did not carry

one at all or, if it was aboard, as likely as not stowed it away in the

same locker with a hatchet, marlinespike and other tools not likely to

improve it. A compass should always form part of a boat's outfit. A fog

often makes its appearance when a party of pleasure seekers are enjoying

a sail on sound or bay, and when it shuts down on you thick as a hedge I

will defy you not to lose your bearings, and consequently your way. In

times such as these a compass will prove a source of great comfort, and

instead of being compelled to anchor and await clear weather you can

steer for your destination under shortened sail. In such cases never

fail to blow the foghorn, which should be of regulation size and not a

penny squeaking trumpet such as a six-year old schoolboy affects. The

ordinary boat's compass will answer admirably if only short sails are

contemplated, but on a long cruise where a heavy sea is not unlikely to

be encountered, a fluid compass should be carried. The motion of a small

craft in rough water causes the common compass card to jump about so

much as to be perfectly useless to steer by, while a fluid compass

remains steady and reliable under all circumstances and conditions.

There are several fluid compasses in the market at a reasonable price,

which can be depended upon in an emergency. The fluid on which the

needle floats is generally alcohol, to guard against freezing, and is

simply a development of a primitive compass used by the daring seamen of

the twelfth century. This old-fashioned instrument consisted of an iron

needle, one end of which was stuck into a piece of cork. The other end

was well rubbed with a loadstone, and when the cork was floated in an

earthenware bowl of water the end so treated pointed to the magnetic

North. In spite of the meager knowledge of those early navigators

concerning variation and deviation, they generally managed to make a

sufficiently good land-fall. It may not be generally known that a sewing

needle rubbed on a magnet and carefully dropped into a vessel of water

will float and point to the North.

The rule of the road at sea requires vessels in a fog to go at a

moderate speed and to blow the foghorn at intervals of not less than two

minutes; when on the starboard tack one blast, when on the port tack two

blasts in succession, and when with the wind abaft the beam three blasts

in succession. It also has certain imperative rules for a vessel at

anchor in a fog.

The law provides that a vessel not under way in a fog shall at intervals

of not more than two minutes ring a bell. It will be seen therefore that

a bell is quite as necessary as a foghorn. If a boat at anchor or under

way in thick weather, with neither bell nor foghorn in use as provided

by the law, should be run into and damaged or sunk by any other vessel,

her owner would have no redress. On the contrary, if he escaped with his

life he could be forced to pay for any damage, however trifling, the

vessel colliding with him sustained in the act. If he was drowned his

estate would be liable.

A bell should form part of the careful boatowner's outfit. But if you

have neglected providing one, don't despair. Get out a frying pan or a

tin kettle and kick up as much racket as you can by beating one or both

with a hammer or a marlinespike. A fishhorn has many times answered the

purpose of a foghorn, but I would not recommend it as a steady

substitute. All I wish to convey is that a frying pan and a fishhorn are

better than nothing.

The variety of anchor to be carried depends very much upon choice. There

are several kinds for sale quite suitable for small cruisers, all of

which have good points to recommend them.

[Illustration: PLEASANT CAT-BOAT SAILING.]

The law is imperative as regards the carrying of lights by night when at

anchor or under way. If your craft is very small, there is a light in

the market fitted with green and red slides to be shown when required,

which may suit your purpose. But if your craft has any pretensions to

size provide yourself with a pair of brass side lights and also a good

brass anchor light. Avoid those flimsy articles with which the market is

flooded. The best are cheapest in the end. See that all the lamps you

have aboard take the same sized wick. Buy the brand of oil known as

mineral sperm, which is used by all first-class steamship lines. Its

quality has borne the test of years and has never been found wanting.

For lamp cleaning take a plentiful supply of cotton waste and old

newspapers, the last named for polishing the glass. A hand lead and line

must not be forgotten, while an aneroid barometer, a thermometer and a

marine clock will be both useful and ornamental. Do not forget a canvas

bucket and a deck scrubber.

A few tools will be found necessary. A hatchet, hammer, chisel, file,

jack-knife, gimlet, screw driver, small crosscut saw and an assortment

of screws and nails will be about all that is essential in this

direction. A few yards of duck, palm and needles and sewing twine, a

ball of marline, one of spun yarn and a marlinespike may be stowed away

snugly, and their possession in case of need is often a great boon. The

adventurous voyager must use his own discretion as to his wardrobe. The

marine "dude" is in evidence in our midst, and who am I that I should

condemn a man for trying to look his prettiest, both ashore and afloat?

Don't forget to buy a good suit of oilers, and don't fail to slip them

on when it rains. When you come to get to my age, and feel the

rheumatism in your old bones, you will wish you had followed my advice.

Tastes differ so widely that it is hard to advise a man as to his

_cuisine_ when afloat. What would suit an old sea dog "right down to the

ground" might not be palatable to the nautical epicure with a taste for

humming-bird's livers on toast, or other such dainty kickshaws.

Personally, I can enjoy a good square meal of sardines and hardtack,

wash it down with a cup of coffee and wind up with a pipe of plug

tobacco, and conclude that I have feasted like a prince. This is

probably due to my forecastle training. Others are more fastidious.

Luckily this is the age of canned viands, and almost every delicacy

under the sun is put up in convenient form, requiring only a can-opener

to extract the hidden sweetness.

The culinary difficulty that confronts the sailer of a small craft is

the cooking stove. Like the servant girl problem, it is still unsolved.

Many great geniuses have wasted the midnight oil and have nearly

exhausted the gray matter of their brains in trying to invent a stove

that shall be suitable for a little cockleshell of a boat with a

_penchant_ for dancing over the waves in lively style. Some have tried

cast-iron stoves with a smokestack, and coal for fuel, and have cursed

their folly ever after. Gasoline stoves, so long as they don't explode

and set fire to the boat, are convenient and cleanly. Various kinds of

alcohol lamps, hung on gimbals to accommodate themselves to the

perpetual motion of a vessel, are in use and are thoroughly adapted for

making a pot of coffee, tea or chocolate, and for heating a can of soup

or preserved meat. A hungry boatman should not ask for more luxurious

fare. There are preparations of coffee and milk and cocoa and milk in

cans, which can be got ready in a hurry and with the least possible

trouble. They are also nice, and I do not hesitate to stamp them with

the seal of my approval. By looking over the catalogue of the canned

goods of any first-class grocer, you will find a quantity of varieties

to select from, all of excellent quality and moderate in price. In order

to provide against waste it would be advisable if cruising alone to buy

the smallest packages in which the viands are put up. Hardtack should be

kept in airtight tin boxes to guard against damp. Matches can be stowed

in a glass fruit jar, and in this snug receptacle defy salt spray and

sea air which threaten the integrity of brimstone and phosphorus. The

man who indulges in tobacco (and what lover of the sea does not?) will

find it well to pack a supply of wind matches in a glass jar, so that he

can keep his match safe replenished and be able to light his pipe or

cigar no matter how the breeze may blow. I have found tobacco a mighty

source of comfort under adverse mental and physical conditions, and its

soothing influence has made many a trick at the tiller seem less weary.

Cooking in a small craft tossed like a cork on the waves is a confounded

nuisance, but a hot meal tastes well after you have been stuck at the

tiller for four or five hours in squally weather. I remember an incident

that occurred on board my cutter, the _Heather Bell_, when ingenuity

provided a hot breakfast which otherwise we should not have enjoyed. We

were caught in a southerly gale in the English Channel, and under

trysail and spitfire jib we were doing our best to claw off a lee shore.

I had been at the tiller nearly all night, and when day broke I was

thoroughly exhausted. The little cutter—she was only fifteen tons—was

pitching and 'scending at such a lively rate that lighting a fire in the

stove was out of the question. My chum, however, managed to make some

coffee with the aid of a spirit lamp, and also to cook a couple of plump

Yarmouth bloaters. This last-named feat was difficult, but my chum was a

man of genius. An inspiration came to him. He split the bloaters down

the backs, put them in an extra deep frying pan, such as should always

be used at sea, deluged them with Scotch whiskey, old and smoky, and set

fire to it. I can see him now, hanging on to the cabin ladder with one

hand and balancing the frying pan in the other, so that the blazing

whiskey should not overflow and set fire to the cabin. Those bloaters

were fine. They went right to the spot. It was rather an expensive mode

of cooking, for the whiskey in question was choice, but we both agreed

that the fishes were worthy of it. I suppose they would have tasted just

as well if they had been cooked in alcohol, but that idea did not occur

to my friend. A beefsteak prepared in the same way was delicious. We had

it for dinner and soon after there came a shift of wind which enabled us

to run for Newhaven and sleep comfortably.

You should take with you a box of seidlitz powders, a bottle of

vaseline, court plaster, a box of your pet pills, a bottle of extract of

witch hazel, a bottle of extract of ginger, a bottle of _Sun_ cholera

mixture, and a bottle of Horsford's acid phosphate. These should be

stowed away in a medicine-chest, which, if you have any mechanical skill

at all, you can make yourself. If you are no hand at a saw or a chisel,

a small medicine-chest, filled with all the requisites and adapted for

use in a boat, can be obtained from any good drug-store at a reasonable

figure.

A locker for the storage of ice is indispensable for one's comfort when

sailing in these latitudes in summer. The locker should be lined with

zinc, and should be fitted with a brass tap to draw off the waste water.

Wrap your ice up in paper first, and then in a piece of coarse flannel,

and you will be surprised at the length of time it will keep. A porous

earthenware bottle should form part of your equipment. It can be

suspended in a draught, and will supply you with a moderately cool drink

when your ice is all used.

Remember that sea air generates damp very quickly in a cabin. Bedding

should be aired and sunned if possible every day, and the cabin should

be well ventilated. Cleanliness and comfort go together in a boat, and

scrubbing-brush and swab should not be allowed to get dry-rot by disuse.

Cultivate order and tidiness so far as the domestic economy of your

yacht is concerned. Have a place for everything and everything in its

place, or your little cabin will present a slovenly appearance instead

of looking pretty and snug.

If the interior of your cabin is painted white, use enamel paint, which

dries hard and smooth, and can be easily cleaned by washing with warm

(not hot) water, soap and sponge.

Cocoa-nut matting is better than carpet or oil-cloth as a covering for a

small craft's cabin floor. It is difficult to dry carpet when it gets

thoroughly drenched with salt water. Oil-cloth is comfortless and cold

to bare feet, but cocoa-nut matting is open to neither of these

objections. It is easily washed and dries quickly.

The cushions for the cabin may be stuffed with cork shavings or

horse-hair and covered with india-rubber sheeting. These may again be

covered with corduroy or blue flannel, as the india-rubber sheeting is

cold. Mattresses made of deers' hair are in the market, and are quite

comfortable. Being buoyant, they can be used as life-savers in an

emergency.

Cups, saucers, plates and dishes of enameled iron or agate ware are

unbreakable and much superior to those of tin, which rust and are hard

to keep clean. Crockery and glassware are easily destroyed in a cruising

craft, in spite of the ingenious racks and lockers invented to preserve

them.

Don't omit to include fishing tackle among your stores. There is lots of

sport in catching blue-fish or mackerel when under way, and many a weary

hour when your craft is becalmed may be beguiled with hook and line.

Besides, a fish fresh from the water forms an agreeable and appetizing

change from the monotony of canned goods. There is no necessity to

purchase expensive tackle for sea-fishing. All that is wanted is strong

and serviceable gear. For blue-fishing provide yourself with a well-laid

cotton line, which is not liable to kink. The line should be

seven-sixteenths of an inch in circumference for the big fish one

catches in spring and fall, and the hooks should be strong. It is well

to carry with you several varieties of squid. For smaller blue-fish a

lighter, cotton-braided line is good. When I go blue-fishing I take

rubber finger-stalls along to prevent my fingers being chafed by the

line. My readers should do the same. Horse-mackerel and Spanish mackerel

are often taken with a blue-fish line.

For navigating purposes all that is really necessary for a coasting

voyage is a chart of the waters you propose to sail in, a pair of

dividers and parallel rulers, and a book of sailing directions. A patent

log may be added if so desired, and will add to the accuracy of your

dead reckoning.

Thus equipped, the navigator may boldly venture forth either by himself

or with a congenial companion. If he does not enjoy every moment of his

cruise, and gain health and strength from the tonic sea breezes, he can

safely conclude that Nature never intended him for a sailor. In that

case he should dispose of his craft at once and seek such consolation as

agricultural pursuits afford.

[Illustration]

IX.

BEATING TO WINDWARD.

There is an old nautical truism to the effect that a haystack will sail

well to leeward, but that it takes a correctly-modeled vessel to beat to

windward. It is easy to comprehend how a straw hat thrown into a pond on

its northerly edge will, under the influence of a brisk breeze from the

north, make a fast passage to the southerly bank. It is more difficult

to understand how the same straw hat, if put into the water at the

southerly end of the pond, might be so manœuvred as to make a passage to

the northern extremity of the sheet of water, though the wind continued

to pipe from the north. This was, no doubt, a tough nut for the early

navigators to crack, and the problem may have taken centuries to solve.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 1.

Sailing under Varying Conditions

of Wind.

]

The paddle was naturally the first means of propelling a rude craft

through the water, and the ingenious savage (probably an indolent

rascal) who discovered that a bough of a tree, or the skin of a beast

extended to a favoring breeze, would produce the same effect as constant

and laborious plying of paddles, was presumably hailed as a benefactor

by his tribe. But this device, artful no doubt in its inception, was

only of avail while the wind blew towards the quarter in which the

destination of the enterprising voyager lay. If the wind drew ahead, or

dropped, the skin or leafy bough was no longer of use as a labor-saving

contrivance, and the wearisome paddle was necessarily resumed.

The primitive square sail of antiquity embodies the same principle as

that governing the motion through the water of the modern full rigged

ship, which is admirably adapted for efficient beating to windward, or

sailing against the wind. Superiority in this branch of sailing is the

crucial test of every vessel whose propelling power is derived from

canvas, and the shipbuilders and sailmakers of all seafaring nations

have vied with each other for centuries to secure the desired

perfection.

Beating to windward may be described as the method by which a vessel

forces her way by a series of angles in the direction from which the

wind is blowing. Some vessels will sail closer to the wind than others.

That is to say, with their sails full they will head a point or more

nearer to the direction from which the wind comes than vessels of

different rig.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 2.

Running Before the Wind.

]

Broadly speaking, an ordinary fore-and-aft rigged yacht with the wind

due north, will head northwest on the starboard tack, and northeast on

the port tack. That is, she will head up within four points of the wind.

Some will do better than this by a good half point. The famous old sloop

_Maria_, owned by Commodore J. C. Stevens, founder of the New York Yacht

Club, is said to have sailed within three points and a half of the wind,

and I am informed that _Constitution_, in her races this year, achieved

a similar remarkable feat.

A square-rigger, because the sails cannot be trimmed to form so sharp an

angle to the breeze as a fore-and-aft rigged vessel, rarely sails closer

than six points of the wind. Consequently, she has to make more tacks

and consume a longer time in accomplishing a similar distance in the

teeth of the breeze than a vessel driven by fore-and-aft canvas. It is

possible to make my meaning clearer by means of simple diagrams, and to

these I refer the reader.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 3.

Gybing.

]

A vessel is said to be close-hauled when the sheets are trimmed flat aft

and the boat is headed as near to the wind as the sails will permit

without their luffs shaking. When a vessel is so trimmed, she is said to

be sailing "full and bye," which means as close to the wind as the craft

will point with the sails bellying out and full of wind. If a vessel is

sailed so close to the wind that the sails quiver, the pressure is

diminished and speed is decreased. Thus the art of beating to windward

successfully consists in keeping the boat's sails full, while her head

should not be permitted to "fall off" for an instant. This requires a

watchful eye and an artistic touch. To become an adept, one should have

plenty of practice.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 4.

Close Hauled on Port Tack.

]

A boat is on the starboard tack when the main boom is over the port

quarter and the port jib sheet is hauled aft. The wind is then on the

starboard bow. The conditions are reversed when the craft goes on the

port tack. In diagram No. 1, four conditions of sailing are shown, the

figures representing a boat sailing with the wind astern, on the

quarter, abeam, and close hauled. It will be observed how the main boom

is trimmed to meet the varied changes of wind or course.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 5,

Close Hauled on Starboard Tack.

]

Diagram No. 2 shows a racing yacht running before the wind with all her

balloons expanded to the breeze. The spinnaker set to starboard not only

adds greatly to her speed, but it also makes the steering easier, as it

counteracts the pressure of the huge mainsail and club topsail on the

port side, thus causing a nicely-adjusted balance. The balloon

jibtopsail catches every stray breath of air that is spilled out of the

spinnaker, and it also has considerable possibilities as a steering

sail, in addition to its splendid pulling power. For a vessel, however

finely balanced and carefully steered, owing to various conditions of

breeze and sea, has a tendency to yaw and fly up in the wind. Thus a

strong puff or a heavy sea striking the boat may make her swerve from

her course in an effort to broach to. Then the jibtopsail does good

service as, when it gets full of wind, it pays the head of the boat off

the wind, and materially assists the helmsman in steadying the vessel on

her course.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 6.

Dead Beat to Windward.

]

It may be remarked that steering a yacht under these conditions, in a

strong and puffy breeze with a lumpy, following sea, calls for the best

work of the ablest helmsman. A boat will generally develop an

inclination to broach to, which means to fly up in the wind. Sometimes,

however, the notion may strike her to run off the wind so much as to

bring the wind on the other quarter, causing her to gybe. This would

mean disaster, probably a broken boom and a topmast snapped off short

like a pipe-stem, with other incidental perils.

Diagram No. 3 shows the manœuvre of gybing, which is to keep the vessel

away from the wind until it comes astern, and then on the opposite

quarter to which it has been blowing. Fig. 1 shows a boat sailing before

the wind with the main boom over to starboard. Fig. 2 shows the

operation of luffing to get in the main sheet. Fig. 3 shows the boom

over on the port quarter, and the operation complete, except trimming

sail for the course to be steered.

It may be remarked that gybing a racing yacht "all standing" in a strong

wind requires consummate skill and care. A cool hand at the helm is the

prime requisite, but smart handling of the main sheet is of scarcely

less importance. The topmast preventer backstays should be attended to

by live men. When a vessel is not racing, gybing in heavy weather may be

accomplished without the slightest risk; the topsail may be clewed up

and the peak of the mainsail lowered, and with ordinary attention the

manœuvre is easily performed.

Diagrams Nos. 4 and 5 show the same racing yacht close hauled on the

port and starboard tack. The spinnaker and balloon jibtopsail are taken

in. A small jibtopsail takes the place of the flying kite. This sail,

however, is only carried in light winds, as it has a tendency, when a

breeze blows, to make a craft sag off to leeward.

Diagram No. 6 shows a boat beating out of a bay with the wind dead in

her teeth, a regular "nose-ender" or "muzzler." She starts out from her

anchorage on the port tack, stands in as close to the shore as is

prudent, goes about on the starboard tack, stands out far enough to

weather the point of land, then tacks again, and on the port tack

fetches the open sea.

Diagram No. 7 illustrates a contingency frequently met with in beating

to windward, when a vessel can sail nearer her intended course on one

tack than another. Thus suppose her course is East by South and the wind

SE, she would head up East on one tack (the long leg) and South on the

other (the short leg).

Diagram No. 8 depicts the manœuvre of tacking that is the method of

"going into stays," or shifting from one tack to the other. Fig. 1 shows

a boat steering "full and bye" on the starboard tack. It becomes

necessary to go about. "Helm's a-lee!" cries the man at the tiller, at

the same time easing the helm down to leeward and causing the boat's

head to fly up in the wind. The jib sheet is let go at the cry "Helm's

a-lee!" decreasing the pressure forward and making the boat, if well

balanced, spin round. A modern racer turns on her heel so smartly that

the men have all they can do to trim the head sheets down before she is

full on the other tack. Some of the old style craft, however, hang in

the wind, and it sometimes becomes necessary to pay her head off by

trimming down on the port jib sheet and by shoving the main boom over on

the starboard quarter (Fig. 3). Soon she fills on the port tack, and

goes dancing merrily along, as shown in Fig. 4.

In beating to windward in a strong breeze and a heavy sea leeway must be

considered.

Leeway may be defined as the angle between the line of the vessel's

apparent course and the line she actually makes good through the water.

In other and untechnical words, it is the drift that the ship makes

sideways through the water because of the force of the wind and the

heave of the sea, both factors causing the craft to slide bodily off to

leeward.

This crab-like motion is due to a variety of causes, to the shape of the

craft, to her trim, and to the amount of sail carried, and its quality

and sit. Boats deficient in the element of lateral resistance, such as a

shallow craft with the centerboard hoisted, will drift off to leeward at

a surprising rate. A deep boat of good design and fair sail-carrying

capacity will, on the other hand, if her canvas is well cut and

skillfully trimmed, make little or no leeway. In fact, she may, under

favorable circumstances, eat up into the wind and fetch as high as she

points.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 7.

A Long Leg and a Short Leg.

]

Leeway is always a dead loss, and to counteract it is always the aim of

the practical seaman and navigator. Captain Lecky, in his admirable

work, "Wrinkles in Practical Navigation," puts the case clearly, and his

advice should be followed whenever feasible. He says: "Suppose a vessel

on a wind heading NW by N, under short canvas and looking up within

three points of her port, which, accordingly, bears north; but, owing to

its blowing hard, she is making 2-1/2 points leeway. Clearly this vessel

is only _making good_ a NW by W1/2W course, which is 5-1/2 points from

the direction of port. Let her speed under these conditions be, say,

four knots per hour. Now, if the yards are checked in a point or so, and

the vessel be kept off NW by W, she will slip away much faster through

the water, and probably will make not more than half a point leeway.

This keeps the course _made good_ exactly the same as before, with the

advantage of increased speed. Therefore, if you can possibly avoid it,

do not allow your vessel to sag to leeward by jamming her up in the

wind. Keep your wake right astern, unless it be found from the bearing

of the port that the course _made good_ is actually taking the vessel

away from it, in which case it is obvious that the less the speed the

better."

This excellent counsel applies to every kind of sailing vessel, whether

square-rigger or fore-and-after, whether used for business or pleasure.

It is of no avail to pinch a boat for the purpose of keeping her

bowsprit pointed for her destination, when it is obvious that she will

only fetch a point several miles to leeward. Keep the sails clean full

and the boat will make better weather of it, as well as greater speed.

It may frequently be necessary to "luff and shake it out of her" when

struck by a hard squall, or, by the aid of a "fisherman's luff," to

clear an object without tacking, but a good rule is to keep a sailing

craft moving through the water and not permit her to pitch and rear end

on to the sea.

[Illustration:

Diagram No. 8.

The Manœuvre of Tacking.

]

X.

COMBINATION ROWING AND SAILING

BOATS.

[Illustration:

Whip purchase

and traveler.

Fig. 1.

]

A boat intended for both rowing and sailing should be partly decked, and

have as high a coaming as possible round the cockpit. A folding

centerboard should be fitted as in Fig. 10, so as to avoid the

awkwardness of a trunk, which in a small craft takes up too much room.

Outside ballast is not necessary; a few bags of sand will do instead. An

open boat under sail is dangerous except in the hands of a skilled

boatman. In a scrub race the helmsman cracks on until the lee gunwale is

almost on a level with the water. He may go along like this for some

time, but if the water is rough, ten to one a sea will sooner or later

come in over the lee bow, and the weight of water to leeward may cause

the boat to capsize before the sheet can be let go and the helm put hard

down to bring her head to wind. This in itself is not agreeable; and

failing to right the boat one may be compelled to cling to the keel or

rail until relief comes, or till he gets too tired to hang on any

longer. The excellent sport of sailing in a stiff breeze is obtained at

its best only in a partly decked boat. The half-decked craft may also be

made into a life-boat with the aid of water-tight boxes of tin or zinc.

The cockpit should be made as narrow as is compatible with comfort.

The combination rowing and sailing boat should have as little gear as

possible. Sheets and halyards should always be kept clear for running

and never be allowed to get foul. If you are so unlucky or so imprudent

as to meet with a capsize, keep clear of the ropes, for a turn of one

round the leg may send you to Davy Jones's locker.

[Illustration: Jib and Mainsail Rig. Fig. 2.]

In writing of rigs suitable for small craft I shall not weary my readers

with descriptions of sails that are not at all adapted for practical use

in American waters. The amateur desirous of becoming acquainted with the

rig of boats suitable for Bermuda waters, the Norfolk Broads, the Nile,

or the inland lakes of Timbuctoo must look elsewhere. Nevertheless the

amateur may rest confident that I give practical instructions for the

best possible rigs, and he may adopt any one of them after due

consideration of the comments on each variety without any fear of future

regret.

The mast of the combination sailing and rowing boat which is shown in

Fig. 2, should be so stepped that it can be taken down at a moment's

notice. It should not be stepped into the keelson through a hole in the

thwart, but should be fitted with a strong iron clamp and pin screwed to

the after part of the thwart, so that it may be unshipped in a hurry.

The mast should be light and strong. The sheave-hole in the head should

be fitted with a galvanized-iron or yellow-metal sheave, and should be

sufficiently large for the halyards to travel freely when the rope is

swollen with water. A block may be fitted to the mast-head for the jib

halyards. The boat should be provided with a galvanized-iron horse for

the lower block of the mainsheet to travel on. This is a great

convenience in beating to windward as the boom will go over by itself

without the aid of the helmsman. The sail also sets better with the aid

of a horse to keep the boom down.

The jib sheets and all halyards should lead aft within easy reach of the

helmsman so that he may be able to handle them without letting go the

tiller. The cushions of the stern sheets should be stuffed with cork

shavings such as grapes come packed in from Spain. They should have life

lines sewed to them so that in case of need they may be used as

life-preservers.

[Illustration: Sprit Rig. Fig. 3.]

The boat should be equipped with three oars (as one may be broken), a

boat-hook and a baler; and the plug in the bottom should be secured to

the boat by a lanyard and screw-eye. A tiller should be used for

steering when sailing and not a yoke and lines.

Remember that you must luff when the first breath of the squall strikes

the boat, for if way is lost and the boat is hove down on her beam ends,

lee helm ceases to possess its virtue and the boat may capsize. This is

a sound and wise axiom and one that a beginner should impress rigidly on

his mind. Never allow skylarking in a boat. Never attempt to climb the

mast of an open boat, as it is an operation fraught with danger. Rather

unstep the mast for any repairs that may be necessary. Never stand on

the thwarts of a small boat when under way.

If women and children are on board never gybe the boom over. Many

accidents have happened through the neglect of this precaution. No

matter how expert a boat-sailer you may be, never take women and

children out in a boat with only yourself to handle her. Always take

care that you have with you either a skilled professional hand or an

amateur who knows the ropes, can take his trick at the tiller and does

not lose his head in a squall or other emergency of sea, lake, sound or

river. In default of being able to command the services of such a man,

leave the women and children ashore and postpone the excursion heedless

of the tears and entreaties of your best girl and the black looks of

your prospective mother-in-law. A lovers' quarrel is easily made up, but

a capsized boat may mean loss of life and agonies of regret and

self-reproach.

I was once persuaded against my better judgment to take out a party of

ladies for a sail in a jib-and-mainsail boat. We put out from a dock at

Perth-Amboy in the afternoon, with a cloudless sky and a soft, sweet

summer zephyr blowing. There was one other of my sex aboard and he told

me he perfectly understood the handling of a boat. He wore a yachting

suit and cocked his eye aloft in a knowing and nautical manner that

deceived even an old stager like myself. A huge black bank of clouds

arose in the northwest presaging the speedy approach of a savage

thunder-squall. I told my nautical-looking shipmate to lower the jib,

but he did not know how to find the halyards, and he was equally

ignorant of the whereabouts of the sheet. I gave the tiller to one of

the girls to hold, hauled down the jib, made it fast, lowered the

mainsail and furled it as snugly as I could and then let go the anchor

which, luckily, hadn't been left ashore. All this time my

nautical-looking chum was star-gazing. As a matter of fact he knew no

more about a boat than a bull knows of trigonometry. His specialty, I

was afterwards informed, was measuring off tape by the yard and ogling

his customers. I had to do a good deal of hustling to get the craft snug

for the squall and to stow away my girl guests in the shelter of the

little half-deck forward, where they fitted as tight as sardines in a

box.

When the squall struck us it was a hummer and no mistake. I veered out

all the cable there was and she rode to it quite well. There came a

deluge of rain with the blast, and the boat was soon nearly half full.

The girls screamed and prayed. The counter-jumper looked pale about the

gills and being too scared to bail flopped on his marrow-bones. Now

praying on shipboard is not to be scoffed at, but it should be delayed

until man has exhausted every possible means of saving the ship. I had

to do all the bailing myself and when the squall had blown itself out I

had to set the sails and hoist the anchor without any aid from the

linen-draper.

That is one reason why I don't go sailing single-handed anymore with a

boatload of girls. Do you blame me, shipmates? They are as likely to get

cranky as the boat herself, and one female at a time is all the average

man can keep on an even keel. Of course I know many girls who can give

me points and beat me easily in yachting and all that appertains

thereto; but fair ones of that sort are not so plentiful as they might

be.

It should be remembered that these small rowing and sailing boats are

not intended for a spin round Sandy Hook lightship. They are for smooth

water and in their place are capable of affording their owners an

immense amount of wholesome enjoyment. On a pinch they will stand a hard

tussle with wind and wave, but it is never wise to tempt Providence. I

once knew an Irishman who often declared that he was so favored by

fortune that he could fall off a dock into the water and not get wet,

but the average man is not built that way. An ambitious amateur may well

begin his career on the water with one of these interesting little toys

I have described, and even if he aspires to become the owner of a

stouter and more seaworthy craft in which to essay adventurous cruises

of great emprise, he will learn much that is of value from her.

With these cautionary remarks I will proceed to describe the rigs which

in my judgment are suitable for boats measuring from twelve to seventeen

feet over all.

[Illustration: Leg-of-mutton Rig. Fig. 4.]

The leg-of-mutton rig, whether combined with a jib or not, is the

simplest and safest known, for there is no weight aloft such as is

inevitable with a gaff. It is a sail exactly adapted to the requirements

of a learner. The most nervous mother need not be alarmed if her boy

goes sailing in a boat equipped with this rig. The sail is hoisted by a

single halyard bent to the cringle at the head of the sail and rove

through either a sheave or a block at the masthead. Sometimes the luff

is laced to the mast, but it is better that it should be seized to

hoops, as shown in Fig. 4. If a boom is used a larger sail can be

carried, but it should be only a light spar and the foot of the sail

should be laced to it. The boom may be fitted with a topping lift and

the sheet be rove as shown in the illustration. In a small open boat no

stays are necessary for the mast, but the jib halyards should be belayed

to a cleat on one gunwale of the boat and the main halyards on the

other, so as to afford support to the mast.

[Illustration: Cat Rig. Fig. 9.]

The jib and leg-of-mutton sail is a deservedly popular rig. A short

bowsprit may be fitted to a boat and secured to an eyebolt in the stem

by a wire bob-stay. A wire forestay may be set up to the bowsprit end

and a jib may be bent to iron hanks on it and hoisted by a single

halyard. Or it may be set flying.

The advantages of the cat rig (Fig. 9) for general handiness have been

often explained. I should advise that the sail be hoisted by both throat

and peak halyards and not by a single halyard as is sometimes the case.

It is often most convenient to be able to drop the peak, when gybing,

for instance, or when struck by a squall. A single topping lift should

be fitted with an eye splice to the end of the boom and rove through a

block at the masthead and belayed to a cleat on the mast. The main sheet

should travel on an iron horse. A short boomkin, with forestay and

bob-stay, may help to secure the mast.

The balance lug, which is illustrated in Fig. 8, is quite a popular rig,

and it has much in its favor. The sail is laced to a yard and boom and

is hoisted by a single halyard rove through a sheave-hole in the

masthead and spliced to the eye of the hook of a galvanized-iron

traveler, to which a strop on the yard is hooked, as shown in the

illustration. On the other end of the halyard a single block is turned

in, through which a rope is rove, the standing part of which is made

fast to an eyebolt at the foot of the mast and the hauling part rove

through a block and led aft within easy reach of the helmsman. The tack

should be made fast to the boom and set up to the mast thwart after

being passed round the mast. The main sheet should work on a

galvanized-iron horse. This rig is quite handy and a boat so equipped is

smart in stays.

[Illustration:

Balance Lug Rig. Fig. 8.

Showing Traveler and Halyards.

]

[Illustration: Sliding Gunter Rig. Fig. 5.]

[Illustration: Detail of Sliding Gunter Rig, Fig. 6.]

The sliding gunter rig, which is shown in Fig. 5, has this much to

recommend it: it is easily set if rigged as shown in the illustration

and it can quickly be reefed. It will be seen that the mast is in two

pieces, the topmast sliding up and down the lower mast on two

wrought-iron rings or travelers. The halyards are sometimes made fast to

the lower traveler and sometimes to the upper. They reeve through a

sheave-hole in the lower masthead and may be set up with a single whip

purchase. The lower mast may be supported with a single wire shroud on

each side and, if the double headrig is carried, with a wire stay to the

stem head. The sail should be laced to the topmast and secured to the

lower mast by hoops or iron rings leathered. These should be large

enough to slide easily up and down the mast, which should be kept well

greased. The topmast should be so rigged that the upper iron can be

unclamped and the topmast lowered down so as to permit the sail to be

stowed like a gaff-sail along the boom. With the sail thus furled the

boat will ride much easier in a breeze or a seaway. In Fig. 6 the

working of the rig is shown: 1 is the lower mast, 2 the topmast, 3 the

halyards, 4 the upper ring, or traveler, with a clamp and pin to permit

the lowering of the topmast, 5 the lower ring or traveler, which is

fitted with a hinge at 6; 7 is the gooseneck of the boom to which the

foot of the sail is laced. Reefing is simple. Lower away on the

halyards, make fast the cringle on the luff of the sail, at whatever

reef band is desired, to the gooseneck on the boom. Haul out the

corresponding reef earing, make it fast, tie your reef points and hoist

up the sail again by the halyards. A topping lift is necessary.

The spritsail is not often seen in these waters, but it is a good sail

for a small boat. I warn the beginner, however, against its use in a

craft of any pretensions to size, for he will find the heavy sprit much

more difficult to handle than a gaff. A spritsail is similar in shape to

the mainsail of a cutter, with the peak higher and the foot shorter, as

in Fig. 3. The sprit is a spar which crosses the sail diagonally from

luff to peak. It is thick in the middle, and each end is tapered. The

upper end fits into a cringle or eye in the peak of the sail and the

lower end into a snotter on the mast. The sprit stretches the sail quite

flat and thus a boat is able to point well to windward. The snotter is a

piece of stout rope having an eye in each end, one being passed round

the mast and rove through the eye in the other end, the heel of the

sprit fitting in the remaining eye. If the snotter carries away, the

heel of the sprit may be forced by its own weight through the bottom of

the boat; accordingly, as it has to stand considerable strain, it should

be made of stout stuff. To set the sail, hoist it up by the halyards,

slip the upper end of the sprit into the cringle in the peak, push it up

as high as you can and insert the heel into the snotter; then trim the

sheet. In large boats the snotter is made fast to an iron traveler which

is hoisted by a whip purchase as shown in Figs. 1 and 3.

[Illustration: Folding Centerboard. Fig. 10.]

[Illustration: Turtles]

The sprit rig cannot be said to be pretty, and when the sail is large it

is difficult to reef it. I should not counsel its use except in a boat

intended for both rowing and sailing, where the sail would be so small

as to be easily muzzled in case of a squall. The spritsail is hoisted by

halyards, rove through a block or sheave-hole at the masthead and hooked

to a cringle at the throat of the sail. The tack of the sail is lashed

to an eyebolt in the mast. In reefing the sprit must be lowered by

shifting the snotter further down the mast.

XI.

RIGGING AND SAILS.

Wire has entirely superseded rope for standing rigging, and deadeyes and

lanyards are fast giving way before the advance of the turnbuckle. An

old sailor cannot help regretting the decline and fall of his profession

and the growing popularity of the art of the blacksmith. So far as the

rigging of ships is concerned, when wire rigging was first introduced it

was thought that its rigidity would prove a fatal objection to its

successful use.

Science has, however, set its foot down firmly on such objections. The

decree has gone forth that rigging cannot possibly be set up too taut,

and the less it stretches the better. The old argument that a yacht's

standing rigging should "give" when the craft is caught in a squall,

which old sea dogs were so fond of advancing, has been knocked on the

head by scientific men who declare that a vessel's heeling capacity

affords much more relief than the yielding quality of rigging. Thus all

or nearly all of the modern immense steel sailing vessels in the East

Indian and Australian trade have their steel masts stayed as rigidly as

possible by means of turnbuckles, and practice seems to have

demonstrated the truth of the theory. These ships encounter terrific

seas and gales off the Cape of Good Hope and Cape Horn, and their masts

are thus subjected to violent and sudden strains, but I have been

assured by the commanders of several of these great freight carriers

that they have never known their "sticks" to be imperiled by the

rigidity of the rigging, and the tauter it can be set up the more secure

the masts are supposed to be.

[Illustration:

SHROUD, DEADEYE, LANYARD.

]

There are, however, a number of old salts who condemn this theory as

rank heresy, and go in for deadeyes and lanyards of the old-fashioned

kind, and the greater the stretch between the upper and the lower

deadeyes the better are they pleased. There is no doubt that turnbuckles

look neater than deadeyes, and they are probably well suited for small

craft. The Herreshoffs have long used them for setting up the rigging of

the sloops and yawls of moderate size which they used to turn out in

such numbers, and which first laid the foundation of their fame. The

boat owner can please himself as to which method he may choose, and he

can rely that with either his mast will be perfectly secure. Both

methods are shown in the accompanying cuts.

There is one thing in connection with wire rigging that I must warn the

amateur against. Beware of shod wire rigging. "Shoes" are iron plates

riveted to the ends of wire rigging to receive shackle bolts. They are

never reliable. Eye splices in wire never draw. "Shoes" often collapse

without notice.

[Illustration: TURNBUCKLE.]

Turnbuckles are very handy appliances for setting up rigging in a hurry,

whereas the same operation conducted by means of a deadeye and a lanyard

takes much more time and trouble. A small craft rigged as a sloop,

cutter or yawl, requires only one shroud on each side to afford lateral

support to the mast, and a forestay—which in the case of a cutter or

yawl should set up at the stem head, but on a sloop is set up on the

bowsprit. A simple way to fit the rigging is to splice an eye in each

shroud, forming a collar sufficiently large to pass over the masthead,

first covering the part that is to form the eye with canvas sewn on and

painted. The starboard shroud goes over the masthead first, then the

port one and last the forestay. In large yachts the lower rigging is

often fitted in pairs, the bight of the shrouds being passed over the

masthead and secured in the form of an eye with a stout wire seizing.

Many riggers shackle the shrouds to an iron band fitted to the hounds.

This plan is open to objection. There may be a flaw in the iron and the

band may give way suddenly, causing the mast to snap off short like the

stem of a clay pipe. Bands may look a little more snug than the collars,

but they are heavier aloft and not so reliable, and for these reasons I

am old-fashioned enough to prefer the collars.

[Illustration:

TOPMAST RIGGING.

]

For a small sloop, cutter or yawl, a pole mast is preferable; but all

boats more than twenty feet on the water line should be fitted with

topmasts, the rigging of which is shown in the cut.

The running bowsprit is almost obsolete now-a-days, but the device still

finds favor with certain owners of cutters and yawls of large size. It

certainly has its advantages. The length of the bowsprit is reduced as

the jibs are shifted, until when the "spitfire" or storm-jib is set the

bowsprit is run so far inboard that it looks like a mere stump. In a

sea-way the benefit of this is obvious, the weight being materially

reduced forward and the pitching consequently lessened. The jib also

sits well and does its work, and is far preferable to that horror of

horrors the "bobbed" jib of a sloop, which always makes a sailor's flesh

creep when he sees it. How it has managed to survive is a marvel to me.

It is a lubberly and slovenly device not good enough for a scow. The

rigging of a running bowsprit is shown in the cut.

[Illustration: RIG OF RUNNING BOWSPRIT.]

When it becomes necessary to set the storm trysail, lower away the

mainsail and furl it as fast as possible. Lower the boom down into the

crutch amidships, and secure it by hauling the sheet taut and by tackles

or lashings from each quarter. Unhook the throat and peak halyards and

hook them on to the trysail gaff, the jaws of which parral on to the

mast, allowing the gaff end to rest on the deck. The topping lifts must

be unhooked from the main boom and taken in to the mast or the rigging,

so as to be out of the way of the trysail. Lace the head of the trysail

to the gaff. The clew of the trysail is hauled aft by a luff-tackle

which forms the sheet. Another tackle should be hooked to the clew and

made fast to windward over the main boom and gaff, so that in case of a

shift of wind the sheet may be hauled aft on the other side without

delay or the danger of getting aback. Then you can man the throat and

peak halyards and set the sail, trimming the sheet well down.

If you should have the misfortune to carry away the main boom, and you

have no trysail on board, lower away the sail, unlace it from the boom,

close-reef it, and set it with a luff-tackle for a sheet. When about to

set the storm trysail and your vessel is yawl rigged, set the storm

mizzen. It will keep her head up to the sea while the sails are being

shifted. In a cutter, heave to by hauling the fore sheet to windward,

keeping the jib full. Shifting jibs in heavy weather in a cutter

requires care. The first thing to do is to get the sail up from below

and stretch it along the weather side of the forward deck with the head

aft. Haul the foresheet to windward and trim the mainsheet in flat,

tricing up the tack if the sail is loose-footed. Keep the boat as close

to the wind as possible. Let go the jib outhaul, and the sail will fly

in along the bowsprit. Muzzle it, man the down-haul, let go the halyards

and down with it! Then reef the bowsprit. Some cutters are fitted with a

rack and pinion wheel, with a handle like that of a winch, for this

purpose. If not supplied with this handy contrivance, reeve a heel rope,

and after slacking the bobstay fall and the falls of the shrouds and

topmast stay, heave on it until you can knock the fid out. Then rouse

the bowsprit in by the shroud tackles to the second or third fid holes,

as desired; ship the fid and set up the gear, beginning with the

bobstay, the weather shroud next and the lee shroud last, at the same

time taking in the slack of the topmast stay. Now to set the jib. First

hook on the sheets and take a turn with the lee one; next hook on the

tack to the traveler and the halyards to the head. Man the outhaul and

bowse the tack out to the bowsprit end. Hoist up on the halyards and

sweat up with the purchase. Trim the sheet, let draw the foresheet, ease

off the mainsheet and sail her along again. If these instructions are

carried out a storm jib may be set on a reefed bowsprit without parting

a rope yarn.

[Illustration: HORSE FOR MAIN SHEET.]

To shake a reef out in the mainsail, set up on the topping lift so that

it may take the weight of the boom. Untie all the reef points. Cast off

the lashing at the tack if the sail is laced to the boom, or come up the

tack tackle if it is loose-footed. Then ease off the reef earring and

hoist the sail, setting up the throat first. You can then ease up the

topping lift and trim sheet.

A convenient method of bending and unbending a storm trysail is shown in

Fig. X and Fig. E.

[Illustration:

FIG. X.

FIG. E.

]

Fig. X represents the shape of the mast hoops, to each of which two iron

hooks are fastened. The hoops are of the ordinary size, but about

one-quarter of their length is sawn out and to the ends the iron hooks

are riveted. Fig. E shows how the thimble toggles are seized to the luff

of the sail at regular intervals. When it is necessary to set the

trysail, adjust the jaws of the gaff to the mast, make fast the parral,

hook on the throat and peak halyard blocks and mouse them. Hoist up

slowly, slipping the thimbles over the hooks on the ends of the hoops as

the sail goes up. The sheet must be hauled aft before the sail is

hoisted, and should be slacked off handsomely to allow the sail to be

properly set. Then all hands should clap on it and flatten it in.

If your boat is rigged as a cutter or yawl the foresail may have the

tack made fast to the eyebolt to which the stay is set up. The luff of

the sail is seized to galvanized iron hanks that run up and down on the

stay. If the foresail has a reef band in it (as it should) a lacing is

used between the reef and tack cringles. Don't bowse up the halyards too

taut the first time you set the sail, and don't break your back

flattening in the sheet. Give it a chance to stretch fairly. The same

remark also applies to the jib, whether set on a stay or flying on its

own luff, as it must necessarily do if your craft is equipped with a

running bowsprit.

For the sake of lightness, blocks are frequently made too small. Manilla

rope, of which both sheets and halyards should be made, has a habit of

swelling when wet. It is generally rove on a dry day, and renders

through blocks quite easily when in this condition. A rain squall will

swell this rope to such an extent, and halyards will jam so hard, that

sails will not come down when wanted, and disasters happen. The work of

setting and taking in sail is made very laborious through small blocks

and large sized halyards. It should be borne in mind that halyards ought

to run through blocks as freely when wet as dry. Blocks should always be

fitted with patent sheaves.

The running rigging of a mainsail consists of peak and throat halyards,

topping lifts, main sheet and peak down-haul. To bend a mainsail,

shackle the throat cringle to the eyebolt under the jaws of the gaff,

stretch the head of the sail along the gaff, reeve the peak earring

through the hole in the end of the gaff and haul it out, securing it in

the manner shown in the illustration. The earring is represented with

the turns passed loosely in order to give the amateur a clear and

distinct view of the proper method. It will be seen that _a a_ is the

peak end of the gaff; _b_ is a cheek block for the topsail sheet; _c_ is

a block for the peak down haul, used also as signal halyards, hooked to

an eyebolt screwed into the end of the gaff, the hook of the block being

moused; _d_ is a hole in the gaff end through which the earring is

passed. The earring is spliced into the cringle with a long eye splice.

It is then passed through _d_ round through the cringle _e_; through _d_

again and through _e_ again; then up over the gaff at _i_ and _k_, down

the other side and through _e_ again, and so on up round the gaff four

or five times; at the last, instead of going up over the gaff again, the

earring is passed between the parts round the gaff as shown at _f_,

round all the parts that were passed through _d_, as shown at _m_, and

jammed by two half hitches _m_ and _h_.

[Illustration]

If the sail is new from the sailmaker's loft, only haul the head out

hand taut or you will ruin it. I have seen yacht skippers clap a "handy

billy" tackle on the head of a new mainsail and haul on it till they

could get no more. I have seen them treat the foot in the same way, the

result being a great bag of canvas of no possible use in beating to

windward. A mainsail costs a good deal of money and is easily spoiled.

One of Mr. John M. Sawyer's splendidly cut sails can have all its

utility and beauty taken out of it in half-an-hour by a lubberly sailing

master.

After the head earring is passed, lace the head of the sail to the gaff,

taking a half hitch at each eyelet hole. Next seize the luff of the sail

to the mast hoops with marline. The foot of the mainsail should next be

made fast to the boom in the same manner as the peak, the lacing going

round a wire jackstay rove through eyebolts on the top of the boom. Do

not "sweat up" either the throat or peak halyards too taut the first

time you set it, and avoid reefing a new sail. Lower it down altogether,

set the trysail, or do the best you can under head sail and the mizzen

if on board a yawl. A mainsail should always be allowed to stretch

gradually, and the slack of the head and the foot should be taken up at

intervals. Remember that no greater injury can be done to a new sail

than to try and make it sit flat by hauling out the foot too taut before

it has been properly stretched. The best authorities advise that the

sail should be set with the leech slack, and the boat run before a

strong wind for several hours. Another excellent plan is to hoist the

sail up with the foot and head slack while the boat is at anchor, and as

it flaps about in the breeze the sail will stretch without injury. Of

course when the head and foot are thoroughly stretched they can be

hauled out taut as they can be got.

Personally, I prefer a mainsail with the foot laced to the boom, but all

are not of my way of thinking. A loose-footed mainsail still has

admirers and this is how it works. The mainsail outhaul consists of an

iron horse on the boom, a shackle as traveler, a wire outhaul made fast

to the shackle and rove through a sheavehole at the boom end and set up

by a purchase.

[Illustration: GEAR FOR HAULING OUT LOOSE-FOOTED MAINSAIL.]

If the mainsail is of the loose-footed variety it should be fitted with

a tack tricing tackle and a main tack purchase. The last named is handy

for bowsing down the luff of the sail "bar taut" for racing. Sweating-up

the throat halyards lowers the peak slightly, and peaking the sail

slackens the luff. By hauling up on the main tack tricing tackle till

you can get no more, and at the same time lowering the peak, the

mainsail is "scandalized" and the boom can then be gybed over in a

strong breeze with the least possible risk of carrying away something.

To prevent masthoops from jamming when the mainsail is being hoisted or

lowered, a small line is seized to the foreside of the top hoop and then

to every hoop down the mast. When the throat halyards are pulled on, the

foresides of the hoops feel the strain and go up parallel with the after

sides. The accompanying figure shows this at a glance.

[Illustration]

It is true that this method has found little favor with amateurs, but I

tried it with great success on my first cruising craft, and later on in

a yacht of far greater pretensions. The "wrinkle" should by no means be

despised.

XII.

LAYING UP FOR THE WINTER.

The judicious yachtsman will personally superintend the laying up of his

craft. If he has that inestimable blessing, a good skipper, he should

not discharge him at the close of his summer season. If he does he will

bitterly regret it. A yacht requires as much watchful care as a baby,

and this is especially true during the trying winter season. So wise

yacht-owners who have in their employ faithful captains should hold on

to them like grim death to a deceased army mule. Good men are not too

plentiful these times.

A few practical suggestions as to preparing the vessel for the winter

are here appended. In the first place, sails should be well dried before

being unbent, and then should be carefully stopped and labeled, and the

same remark applies also to the running gear. By all means secure

storage ashore for sails, gear, cabin fitments and furniture, carpets,

upholstery and bedding, otherwise you may have cause to regret it in the

spring. In most of the buildings devoted to the storage of yacht gear

proper platforms or stages are provided, so that a free current of air

may circulate, and thus prevent damp, mildew and decay. The lower tier

on the platform should consist of the warps and running gear, on top of

which the sails should be snugly coiled. Above these the furniture,

bedding and upholstery should go. All can be covered over with an old

light sail to protect them from dust. This can be removed as often as

necessary for airing purposes.

On the other side of the Atlantic judicious owners of storage warehouses

make their platforms rat-proof, following out the same idea as the

farmer does with his wheat stacks. Each support to the stage is capped

with a metal cone, which effectually stops the upward progress of the

sail-devouring vermin. Well-conducted warehouses are well ventilated,

and the temperature is kept tolerably even by heat.

Of course, all articles of value, such as plate and nautical

instruments, should find repository in their owner's dwelling.

All light spars should be sent ashore and lashed up under the beams of

the warehouse. The same with the rowboats, but with attention to the

fact that they should be so supported as to have their weight evenly

distributed, and thus prevent them from being pulled out of shape.

Many expensive boats are hopelessly ruined by neglect of this

precaution. This is the proper method of supporting a rowboat so that

straining her is impossible. Six eyebolts should be screwed into the

under side of the beams of the warehouse at proper intervals to take the

weight of the boat amidships and at the third of her length forward and

aft. From these eyebolts ropes of sufficient length should depend, to

which, in the bight, a handspike is passed, on which, bottom upward, the

boat is hung.

A yacht laid up without the greatest care deteriorates in value to an

enormous extent. The first process after dismantling is to clean the

vessel thoroughly inside and out, just as carefully as if she was about

to be continued in commission. After getting her as bright as a new pin,

all the hardwood—that which is varnished or gilded—should be covered up

with canvas.

After the yacht has been thoroughly skinned, as far as her internal

arrangements are concerned, the last process preliminary to paying her

out of commission, is to give her decks a coat or two of bright

varnish—shunning that mixture known in the trade as pure oil, as

deleterious to all decks.

It is cheaper in the long run to provide a yacht with properly fitted

winter hatches which entirely cover the hardwood deck fittings and

secure thorough ventilation, as then the regular skylights can be left

open.

In small craft the sailing master will be sufficient to keep the boat in

first-class condition. On larger vessels, according to size, he should

have competent assistance.

Whether a yacht is moored alongside a quay or another vessel, winter

storms cause her to do a little rolling, which invariably induces

chafing. Unless a vessel is properly protected by fenders, her

planksheer and bulwarks are sure to be seriously injured, and to repair

this part of a ship is costly in the extreme, especially in regard to

the planksheer. Should the planksheer be "shoved up" by contact with the

dock or the ship to which she is moored alongside, the damage done could

only be properly repaired by the removal of both bulwark and rail. To

guard against severe injuries of this kind unceasing vigilance is

necessary. If you can induce your skipper to live on board, all the

better. In such a case your yacht will be kept in as dainty condition as

your wife's boudoir. Snow is very penetrating. It will find its way even

through rubber boots. A little leak may at first have no significance.

But the leak increases and rot follows, fastenings are corroded and

paintwork discolored.

Every vessel afloat suffers more or less from "sweating," caused by the

difference between the temperature of the air outside and inside the

ship. To obviate this a fire should be kept going; not a furious furnace

that would involve a great expenditure of coal, but simply some heating

device that gives a moderate amount of warmth all through the ship.

Thus, when the owner returns to his yacht in the spring, he will find

her sweet and clean, and will never regret the few paltry dollars it has

cost him to keep his floating summer home in seagoing condition. The

careful skipper will see that his extra help is kept busy, so that not

only a casual visitor must compliment her owner on her spick and span

condition, but a naval architect or a Lloyd's surveyor can find no flaw

or fault to peck at. For, down to her deadwood and timbers, by the

application of soap, hot water and plenty of elbow-grease, she is made

fit for repainting right down to her keel.

By conservative and preservative methods such as these a yacht's life is

prolonged, and she will always fetch her value in the market, the

noisome odor of bilge water being unknown.

The foregoing remarks are applicable to pleasure craft that are kept

afloat during the winter. It is needless to expatiate on the benefit of

hauling out yachts of any size or construction, whether of wood,

composite, iron, steel or Tobin bronze or aluminum. The expense of

hauling large boats out is considerable, for obvious reasons, and thus

it is that yacht owners do not care to incur the cost. This objection

does not apply to small craft, which should invariably be landed for the

winter and efficiently protected by canvas, or other covering, from the

destructive influence of snow and rain. All that has been said above in

relation to the storage of sails and gear applies as much to a

one-tonner as to the largest pleasure craft afloat.

When we go into the question of steam yachts, no better advice can be

given than that contained above, so far as hull and equipment are

concerned. It is different when the proper care of machinery is

considered. There it is where the services of a loyal and skillful

engineer come into full play. Unless sufficient attention is paid to a

vessel's boilers and engines during the critical time when she reposes

in dock, disastrous results, entailing vast expenditure, are sure to

follow. The complicated and ingenious mechanism which propels the modern

steam yacht requires devoted regard. Very expensive when new, repairs

during their second season, if in any way neglected in the winter, call

for the resources of the purse of a Crœsus. In matters of this kind the

old adage which relates to a stitch in time should be noted by the

prudent yacht owner. Thus it is that an engineer and a sufficient staff

should be kept on the pay roll in the winter for economic reasons alone.

By this means extravagant bills for unnecessary repairs will be avoided.

The engineer will take pride in his work and do justice to a liberal

employer.

It is well known that engineers can only become acquainted with the true

capacity of machinery by long and careful study. Statistics have proved

that marine engines in the navy under the direction of good men have

been run with less coal, less oil and greater working power year by year

when the same man has had control of the engine-room. All of which means

less strain on the owner's bank account.

Lincoln's famous aphorism about the unwisdom of swapping horses when

crossing a stream applies with great precision to skippers and

engineers. It takes time for the most masterly and adroit captain to

become acquainted with the peculiar idiosyncrasies of a vessel, for it

is true that each one has her own individuality, and it takes time to

comprehend her. In this they much resemble the fair sex. It is a case of

whip and spur on one hand, and saddle and bridle on the other. Which is

to wield the whip or wear the saddle is a question between captain and

ship. The struggle is sometimes a long one, but in the end mind conquers

matter.

The captain, as in the case of Gen. Paine and the _Mayflower_,

eventually gets the hang of her, brings her into a state of submission,

and compels her to become a cup winner. The engineer in his own sphere

accomplishes similar results. His machinery runs with the regularity of

a chronometer. His owner's bills for coal and oil are confined within

reasonable limits. There are no breakdowns. His firemen implicitly obey

his orders, and all goes well in engine-room and stoke-hold.

If these few practical suggestions and hints prove of any service to

yachtsmen, captains and engineers, the writer will feel happy. He has

simply touched on the limits of a wide and fertile subject that might be

expatiated upon at a large expense of paper and printer's ink.

XIII.

USEFUL HINTS AND RECIPES.

To whiten decks, mix oxalic acid with fresh water in the proportion of

one pound to the gallon. Apply lightly with a mop and wash off

immediately.

Good elastic marine glue for paying seams after they are caulked, can be

made of one part of india rubber, twelve parts of coal tar heated gently

in a pitch kettle, and twenty parts of shellac added to the mixture.

When about to use this preparation, dip the caulking iron, used to drive

the oakum or cotton thread into the seams, in naphtha, which dissolves

the glue and helps to closely cement the seams. If oil is used instead

of naphtha, the glue will not adhere. When melting marine glue for

paying, take care to heat it very slowly.

Mildew on sails is almost impossible to remove, but the stains can be

rendered a little less unsightly by well scrubbing the sail on both

sides with soap and fresh water, and then leaving the sail to dry and

bleach in the sun. Avoid the use of chloride of lime or other caustics

or acids, which, while they might take out the mildew stains, would

certainly rot the duck. Sometimes sails must necessarily be stowed when

damp or wet, but they should be hoisted up to dry as soon as

practicable. Every boat should be provided with water-proof sail covers.

Composition paints and other mixtures for preventing the fouling of

boats' bottoms are plentiful as clams. Each one is warranted to be a

specific against weeds and barnacles. But wooden or iron vessels,

however treated, if left for any length of time at anchor anywhere on

the Atlantic or Pacific coasts, are sure to become encrusted with

barnacles and to be covered with such a rich growth of marine grasses as

would take some particularly active work with a lawn mower to remove.

Luckily small boats can easily be hauled out and scrubbed, but those

with any pretension to size should most certainly be coppered. Copper in

salt water will keep clean for a long time, the exfoliation being

extensive. Some authorities recommend that the copper be coated with one

or other of the compositions prepared for that purpose, but I think that

to leave the copper clean will be more satisfactory in the long run. A

coppered cruising vessel should not require her bottom to be cleaned

more than four times in the season, but the oftener a racing yacht is

hauled out to have her copper burnished the better should be the result,

so far as speed is concerned.

There are several capital paints in the market with which to coat a

yacht or boat below the water-line. But admirable though they may be,

they are by no means weed or barnacle proof.

In choosing a binocular marine glass, take care not to be persuaded into

buying a trashy article. A good one should have a magnifying power of

seven times, as well as what is known as good definition—that is, the

quality of showing all the outlines of an object with complete

distinctness and without any haziness. To find out if a glass has this

quality, direct it at any object clearly outlined against the sky—a

church steeple, for instance. If the outlines of the object are

indistinct, or if they are bordered with violet, blue, orange or red

light, reject the glass, as it will never be worth anything. The frame

of the glass should be rigid, or the tubes will become twisted and then

you will see two objects in place of one. The more powerful a glass is

the less field it possesses. While high power is desirable, it is well

that a glass should have a large field. A poor glass is worse than none

at all.

That sterling seaman, Capt. S. T. S. Lecky, tells a capital story about

a marine glass, which I commend to anybody about to purchase one. In the

window of a shop he noticed a binocular with a tag on it, which asserted

that the glass had rendered an "object" visible at the distance of

ninety miles. This was attested by a letter to be seen within. The

captain's curiosity was excited. On inquiry in the shop he found out

that the "object" was none other than the peak of the Island of Tristan

d'Acunha, in the Southern ocean, which is so lofty that it can be seen

in clear weather by the naked eye at a distance of one hundred miles.

Therefore I say let your motto be _caveat emptor_ when you go cruising

about in search of either a cheap marine telescope or binocular among

marine store dealers or pawnshops. Remember that clearness of definition

is more to be sought than high magnifying power, as in misty weather the

glass with the last-named quality in a marked degree magnifies the haze

as well as the object, and, of course, makes it still more blurred and

indistinct—a defect on which it is unnecessary for me to further

enlarge.

It is hard to distinguish with a low-priced binocular on a thick or

rainy night the color of a vessel's lights, a white one sometimes

appearing with a green or reddish tinge, and a green one looking like a

white one. This applies also to lightships and lighthouses, and should

make you careful as to your selection of a glass.

Captain Lecky says the proper way to test a binocular for night use is

not to stand at a shop door in broad daylight, trying how much the glass

enlarges some distant clock-face, but to wait till nightfall and test it

by looking up a dark street or passage, and if figures before only dimly

visible to the naked eye are rendered tolerably clear by the aid of the

glasses, you may rest assured you have hit on a suitable instrument. It

is well to go in the first place to an optician, and not to a

"shoptician" versed in cheap-jack methods.

[Illustration: LUNCHEON IN THE COCK-PIT]

Iron ballast should be coal-tarred, painted, or white-washed with hot

lime.

Masts and spars should be scraped and sand-papered. If there are any

cracks in them, they should be stopped with marine glue before scraping.

Apply a coat of wood-filler, then a coat of spar composition. When hard,

give a second coat. Never apply varnish when there is much moisture in

the atmosphere. In the vicinity of New York, wait till the wind is

northwest if you wish to secure the best and most brilliant results.

If your boat is white, when repainting don't forget to mix a little blue

with your white lead, raw linseed oil and dryers. This cerulean dash

improves the look of the paint, and is far better than black, which

produces a ghastly tint.

[Illustration: SCOWING AN ANCHOR.]

When for any purpose it becomes necessary or desirable to anchor a small

boat on ground known, or suspected, to be foul, it is advisable to scow

the anchor. Unbend the cable from the ring; make the end fast round the

crown shank and flukes with a clove hitch, and bring the end _a_ back to

_s_, and stop it round the cable with a piece of spunyarn; take the

cable back to the shackle and stop it as at _b_. When the cable is

hauled upon by the part _o_, the stop at _b_ will part and the fluke of

the anchor can be easily broken out and lifted. For larger vessels a

trip-line is sometimes bent to the crown and buoyed instead of scowing

the anchor.

A capital composition for painting the bottoms of boats up to the

water-line is made as follows: Take one pound of red lead, four ounces

of copper bronze powder, the same weights of arsenic, chrome yellow and

paris blue, one pint of dryers, one pint of boiled oil and one pint of

copal varnish. Mix thoroughly, strain and apply. If too thick add more

varnish. It will dry a rich copper color. It is neither barnacle nor

weed proof, but is as good as some of the more expensive paints which

pretend to possess both these qualities. Before painting, scrub the wood

well and smooth down with pumice stone. Let it thoroughly dry before you

begin to use the brush.

A good black paint for the outside of boats is made thus: To six pounds

of best black paint add one pound of dark blue paint and half a pint of

dryers. Mix with equal quantities of raw and boiled linseed oil until of

the proper consistency. Stir well. Strain carefully, and then add one

pint of copal varnish.

To stop cracks in a spar: When the spar is thoroughly dry run in marine

glue. When the glue is hard scrape some of it out and stop the crevice

with putty stained the same color as the spar.

Iron mould and other stains can be removed from a deck by a solution of

one part of muriatic acid and three parts of water.

THE LEAD LINE.

The hand lead weighs fourteen pounds. The line to which it is attached

is twenty-five fathoms long, and is marked as follows: At two fathoms,

leather with two ends; at three fathoms, leather with three ends; at

five fathoms, white muslin; at seven fathoms, red bunting; at ten

fathoms, leather with hole in it; at thirteen fathoms, blue serge; at

fifteen fathoms, white muslin; at seventeen fathoms, red bunting; at

twenty fathoms, strand with two knots in it. By the different feel of

the materials used it is easy to distinguish the marks in the dark. In

sounding when the boat is in motion, swing the lead round and heave it

as far forward as you can. By filling the hollow at the base of the lead

with grease or tallow, a sample of the bottom mud or sand adheres to it,

which may be useful in verifying the position of the boat by comparing

it with the chart on which the nature of the bottom is indicated.

The first fathom of the hand lead line for use in a boat of light

draught may be marked off in feet in any legible manner satisfactory to

the marker.

The marks on the deep sea lead line commence with two knots at twenty

fathoms, another knot being added for every ten fathoms, and a single

knot at each intermediate five.

A hand lead for use in a small craft need not be so heavy as fourteen

pounds.

It may not be generally known that all watches are compasses if used

according to the following instructions. Point the hour hand to the Sun,

and the South is exactly half-way between the hour and the figure XII on

the dial. For instance, suppose it is four o'clock; point the hand

indicating four to the Sun, and II on the dial is South. Suppose again

it is eight o'clock; point the hand indicating eight to the Sun, and the

figure X on the dial is South. Some cranks carry a compass card in their

watch case so that they may always determine without delay or trouble

the direction of the wind whenever the Sun is visible.

[Illustration]

[Illustration:

Photo by J. S. Johnston.

"HALF RATERS."

]

XIV.

RULE OF THE ROAD AT SEA.

The boat sailer must possess a knowledge of the rule of the road at sea,

unless he wants his sport brought to an untimely end by collision. He

should become thoroughly familiar with the International Steering and

Sailing Rules, so that if he encounters steamships, fishing craft, pilot

boats, etc., he will be able so to maneuver his own vessel as to escape

collision.

The prudent skipper of a little vessel should always give steamships and

ferryboats a wide berth. Big steamships sometimes are slow to answer

their helms, and often will not get out of the way of small craft,

although compelled to by international law. Should your boat be run down

by one of these monsters of the deep you, of course, have your remedy in

a court, but you are apt to find litigation very expensive when suing a

steamship company, and a suit often lingers for years until, having

exhausted every process, it finds itself at last on the calendar of the

Supreme Court of the United States.

It is not advisable to attempt to cross the bows of a steamer unless you

have plenty of room and you are a good judge of distances. Steam vessels

go at a faster rate than they seem to, and the momentum of their impact

is very great. Instead of crossing a steamer's bow go about on the other

tack, or haul your foresheet to windward till she has passed. Discretion

is always the better part of valor. Not to monkey with ocean steamships

or ferryboats is as valuable advice as that time-honored warning to boys

not to fool with the buzz-saw.

Do not get "rattled," whatever you do, but keep your eyes "skinned" and

your head clear.

Skippers of ferryboats often try to show off their smartness by steering

as close as possible to small pleasure boats and then giving them the

benefit of their wash, sometimes swamping their unfortunate victims. It

is fun for the fellow in the ferryboat's pilot-house, but it is the

reverse of pleasant to the man wallowing in the seething water.

Therefore, do not court danger by approaching too near these unwieldy

marine brutes, but if you are so luckless as to get into their wash

handle your boat so that she shall not get into the trough of the waves,

but take the sea on the bluff of the bow, where it will do the least

harm.

Navigation by daylight in fine, clear weather is easy, but when it is

dark and foggy special precautions must be taken or collision is

inevitable. I do not propose to reprint in this little book the full

text of the international regulations for preventing collisions at sea,

but I have prepared an abstract, which will be sufficient for the

practical purposes of an amateur sailor.

LIGHTS.

Between sunset and sunrise the following lights shall be carried by a

steamship when under way:

At the foremast head a bright white light, visible on a clear night at a

distance of five miles, showing the light ten points on either side of

the ship from right ahead to two points abaft the beam.

On the starboard side a green light showing from right ahead to two

points abaft the beam, visible at a distance of two miles.

On the port side a red light similar in all respects, except color, to

the green light.

To prevent these green and red lights from being seen across the bow

they must be fitted with inboard screens projecting at least three feet

forward from the light.

Steamships towing other vessels shall carry two white masthead lights in

addition to their side lights.

Sailing vessels when under way or being towed shall carry only the green

and red lights as provided for steamships under way.

Small vessels that cannot carry fixed side lights in bad weather must

have them on deck on their respective sides ready for instant exhibition

on the approach of another vessel.

All vessels at anchor shall show where it can best be seen, at a height

not exceeding twenty feet above the hull, a white light in a globular

lantern of eight inches in diameter, visible all round the horizon at a

distance of at least a mile.

Pilot vessels shall only carry a white light at the masthead, visible

all round the horizon, and shall exhibit a flare-up light every fifteen

minutes.

Open boats are not required to carry fixed sidelights, but must, in

default of such, be provided with a lantern, having a green slide on one

side and a red slide on the other, which must be properly shown in time

to prevent collision, taking care that the green light shall not be seen

on the port side nor the red light on the starboard side.

Fishing and open boats, when at anchor or riding to their nets and

stationary, shall exhibit a bright white light, and may, in addition,

use a flare-up light if deemed expedient.

FOG SIGNALS.

In fog, mist, or falling snow, whether by day or night, a steamship

under way shall blow a prolonged blast of her steam whistle every two

minutes, or oftener. A sailing vessel under way shall blow her foghorn

(which must be sounded by a bellows or other mechanical device and not

by mouth power) at intervals of not less than two minutes, when on the

starboard tack one blast, when on the port tack two blasts in

succession, and when with the wind abaft the beam three blasts in

succession.

Vessels not under way shall ring the bell at intervals of not less than

two minutes.

STEERING AND SAILING RULES

FOR SAILING VESSELS.

A ship running free shall keep out of the way of a ship closehauled.

A ship closehauled on the port tack shall keep out of the way of a ship

closehauled on the starboard tack.

When both are running free with the wind on different sides, the ship

which has the wind on the port side shall keep out of the way of the

other.

When both are running free with the wind on the same side, the ship

which is to windward shall keep out of the way of the ship to leeward.

A ship which has the wind aft shall keep out of the way of the other

ship.

FOR STEAM VESSELS.

If two ships under steam are meeting end on, or nearly end on, so as to

involve risk of collision, each shall alter her course to starboard so

that each may pass on the port side of the other.

If two ships under steam are crossing so as to involve risk of

collision, the ship which has the other on her own starboard side shall

keep out of the way of the other.

Steamships must, in cases where there is risk of collision, keep out of

the way of sailing vessels.

A vessel, whether sail or steam, when overtaking another, must keep out

of the way of the overtaken ship.

Where by the above rules one of two ships is to keep out of the way, the

other shall keep her course.

The following rhymes should be committed to memory:

When both sidelights you see ahead,

Port your helm and show your red!

Green to green or red to red,

Perfect safety—go ahead!