Chapter II: Part 2

Again, freeboard increases the range of heel. This is of enormous advantage when sailing in a sea way with a strong breeze. The tripping power of the wave is exhausted before the rail is brought down, and the boat not receiving a load of water on her lee deck rights so much quicker. A low-sided boat when canted by a beam sea edges her rail under and shovels the water up on her deck as she recovers. For this reason seagoing craft should have their upper freeboard slightly tumbled home. Bulwarks and high rails are bad things, and combings should be kept well inboard, while raised cabin houses if fitted should not be carried too close to the waterways. Rails and bulwarks as far aft as the rigging can be raised to an advantage, as they prevent the water from coming in and not passing out. Water in breaking on board will always follow along anything like the side of a house, and when reaching a break spread in. This is how cockpits are so easily filled. The height is suddenly cut down from house to combing, and the sea having become crowded up to the height of the house in its passage aft, when it comes to the low place rushes into the cockpit. If the combing is carried up to the height of the house the water will pass along and go out over the stern.

Ballasted boats should never go into rough water unless they have water-tight cockpits and water-tight companions and openings. But a water-tight cockpit, unless it is well-scuppered and really self-bailing, is of little use. In eight out of ten small yachts the cockpits are not, although they pretend to be, self-bailing. They will bail perfectly when at anchor. In order to bail quickly the floor must be at least ten inches above the load water line. Here again freeboard comes in. Again, the placing of the scuppers in the forward end of the cockpit and their outboard openings under the bilge is decidedly wrong. In the first place it keeps the water at all times in the forward end of the standing room against the cabin, just where you move about; in the second every drop that goes out through the lee pipe has to force its way against a pressure. This pressure is also constantly driving the water up and into the boat. The place for the scuppers is aft with the openings under the stern. Here there is constant suction so long as the boat is moving ahead, no matter to which side or how far she heels. Again, if the floor is sloped aft, whatever water is on the standing room will run aft and be out of the way, a measure of comfort that those who sail in rough water can appreciate. It is not generally known but a boat going at speed of four knots and over will, if equipped with proper scuppers, siphon, i. e., suck the water out.

Another bad practice of builders is to put stationary seats around a cockpit with lockers beneath them. This never should be done. You cannot keep them tight, the wood being constantly subject to water and sun. Never put lockers of any kind in a boat with outboard openings. Another bad practice is that of putting in low companion thresholds. The threshold of the companion should be as high or higher than the side of the boat, and should on no account, no matter how high the cockpit floor is, be on a level with it. The usual manner of constructing companion doors is also open to objection. The new method in which the door slides down into a recess through a rubber-packed joint is far better than the old way of closing. Such a door can be made absolutely water-tight, and can be opened without being opened. This enables you to see into the cabin or out of it without running the slide back or risking getting a wash below by opening the doors. These may seem trivial details, but it is the neglect of such to whose account the loss of the majority of seagoing vessels must be placed. Poor hatches and low, badly protected engine room skylights are responsible for nearly all the steamships that go to sea, and are never heard of again. Keep the water out and you can live out anything in the way of sea or wind. Let it get in and everything that before made your craft seaworthy will be an aid to your ending. Your ballast will be a weight to sink you, and the empty space that gave you buoyancy so much room to quickly fill with water.

After this, look to your pump. Where is it? In most yachts directly amidships, drawing out of a well over the lowest part of the keel. Where should it be? In the place where it can be used when most wanted--the bilge. You must have a means of drawing from the center, so you can pump out when at anchor or sailing upright. But all pumps should have a bilge intake. It would be a very simple matter to make such a connection with a cock to cut off the other intakes. How often, when he least wants to, has a man to let his boat up, so as to get the water amidships for the purpose of pumping it out. If he could pump from the bilges this coming up would be unnecessary. To kill a boat's way in a heavy beam or head sea, so as to get her on her keel, is a dangerous artifice; but it must be done with the pump amidships, if you want to get the water out, and keep a dry cabin. Every seagoing small yacht should have at least two fixed pumps, and a movable one. The fixed pumps should be constantly looked to, and the limbers kept clean. Never stow inside weight alongside of or over the intake, and never allow rubbish to be swept into the spaces between the floors. With a good pump a man can keep down all the water that will work into a tight boat through her bottom, topsides and deck.

All seagoing yachts should have the rudder post boxed up and carried well above the water line. The neglect of this is the cause of much leakage. She should also have in her rudder blade a boring or rod in which to make fast emergency lines or chains. In craft that have their rudders well under them a rod must be used, but in shallow boats with broad blades a hole bored through the outer edge will do. These lines are extremely useful when anchored in a sea way; by hauling them taut over either quarter you can relieve the strain on the head of the post and gear attached to it. In case of a breakdown of the quadrant, wheel or post head, you can at once take control of the rudder and keep the boat under command.

No boat should go into rough water for a long run unless she have ringbolts aft for the purpose of passing boom lashings, and also a fixed boom crotch, or at least one that can be made immovable. There is no other way of keeping a boom steady when the sail is lowered down. You cannot by any possible means do so with lashings, unless you can horn it in a crotch. A loose boom is a constant menace. Provision also should be made for the trysail sheets, and for body lashings for the crew, and lashings for the boat, even if you have davits. The principal weak spot in the rigging of a boat that is to be driven in heavy water is the bobstay. That piece of rigging is often carried away in a sea than any other, and usually it is the bolt that goes. Look to it, and look to it well; for if it parts, most likely you will lose your mast. The only safeguard lies in rigging a preventer stay that will set up with a tackle, the fall leading inboard. The stay should be of wire rope properly and strongly secured to the stem. Use either a gun tackle or luff tackle--the latter is preferable--and be sure to give it plenty of drift. When in use, set it up just scant of the strain, so that if the bobstay parts it will catch the strain before the spar gets a good spring. In boats that have a forestay set up to the stem head there is less likelihood of this accident happening; but it is always best to have a preventer fitted. Make the fall fast around the bitts or mast where you can readily get at it, and hold a turn to set it up. Seagoing boats should have two shrouds on a side and set up with lanyards in preference to rigging screws. If you fit the latter, have them about twice the size of those ordinarily put on by riggers. She should also have a heavy set of masthead runners and duplicate eyes to set them up to, one pair being placed well aft. Our modern full-bowed boats are very hard on their rigging and spars when in a sea way, and need to be heavily ironed.

Outside of her ordinary sails a seagoing yacht needs a trysail, a small square sail, and a small jib or staysail, all made of heavy canvas. Particular attention should be paid to the roping and clews of these sails. It is of no use using heavy canvas if the clew irons are frail and the rope light. A gaff-headed trysail is better than a jib-headed, but it is more bother to set. Care should be taken to see that the cleat or ringbolt for the trysail sheet is in such a position as will allow the sail to be properly sheeted, for a trysail when used for riding must set flat, or else it will bang itself to pieces.

In seagoing craft looks don't count, and therefore be not afraid to make all your rigging heavy and strong, and wherever possible have a fitting or tackle that can be instantly made to take the place of one that carries away. Always when in rough water or in heavy weather keep a vang or down-haul on the peak of the gaff. It is sometimes the only thing that will bring the sail down, and it gives you command of the spar, especially when the yacht is rolling heavily. The chafing of gear when in a sea way is constant and ruinous. To prevent it a close watch must be kept on all ropes where they pass through blocks or lie against spars or other ropes. If your halliards and sheet remain long in one place they must be canvased or armored with some sort of chafing stuff.

One more important thing. Whenever you get far from land, lash the oars and rudder in the dingey. Then put in a good long coil of light line, a bucket, a jug or breaker of water, and enough food to last for a day or two. Lash these in so they cannot get out. Many a life has been lost and many a man has suffered horribly because these simple precautions have been neglected. Something suddenly happens to the yacht; it is a case of boat at once. The crew throw the boat over and jump in. Too late they find that the oars are gone or that there is no water or food. The bucket and rope are for use as a sea anchor.

_ON RIGS_

"_The present tendency of canvasing is to increase the number of sails on cruising yachts, and to decrease on racing craft. Experience teaches that in both cases we are doing the right thing. Ultimate speed is found in single sails; ease of handling, safety and mobility in divided sail._"

ON RIGS

In discussing rigs suitable for cruising we may at once dismiss from consideration several that are in common use, but which are not adapted for service in our waters, or are distinctly inferior by reason of being difficult to handle with small and unskillful crews. We will, also, dismiss the true cutter rig from our considerations, as it has almost passed out of use, its place being taken by the modern type of single-sticker, which is part cutter and part sloop. This combination rig is not in its full sparring suitable for boats under forty feet, but when stripped of the topmast it is in some ways an excellent type.

We can also drop the cat, and what is called the cat-yawl, from our list. The four rigs to which I shall call your attention are the pole-mast sloop, yawl, ketch and schooner.

The pole-mast sloop, of which the knockabout is the commoner specimen, is an excellent rig for use on a cruiser. The difference between the sloop proper and the knockabout is in the method of spreading the canvas; in the sloop the canvas is spread fore-and-aft, a large percentage being forward of the mast; in the knockabout the much greater part of the spread is in the mainsail, and the hoist is higher. The tall, narrow-peaked mainsail of the latter is its characteristic feature. The jib is small and tacked down to the stem head.

The disadvantage of this rig is that sufficient canvas to drive a heavy, full-bodied boat cannot be spread; consequently, a true knockabout is a comparatively roomless craft.

The false knockabout, a bastard craft that is becoming very common, is one in which the sail area is increased by extending the headsail on a bowsprit, and running the boom outboard.

The pole-mast sloop has many warm advocates, and is without question a far better rig than the old sloop, hampered with topmast and lofty gear, but it shares with all single-masted vessels the faults that are common to the type. The most serious of these is, that you cannot shorten sail except by reefing. This can be done with the yawl, ketch and schooner rigs.

I have heard many men, and men of experience, decry the yawl rig, giving as their opinion that it is inferior in every way to the short-rigged sloop. But I have generally found that these men have formed their judgment from the actions of one boat, and that failing to confirm preconceived opinions they have condemned the type, root, bole and branch.

In an article upon the yawl rig, written some time back, I explained one of the reasons why this rig came into favor, and why it has lost favor with many who at first highly valued it. I cannot do better than reprint these remarks:

It has been said that the worst enemy a man can have is his best friend. Howsoever this may be in the world of men, it is most certainly so in the world of things, and nowhere has unmeasured eulogy of the best friend wrought greater havoc than in the case of the yawl rig. Unfortunately for the yawl rig, it has been repeatedly chosen to drive the craft of the writing lonesome sailor, and consequently it has figured to a marked degree in yachting literature, and as these writers have lavished upon it page upon page of unqualified praise, the effect has been to lift the rig into a singular and prominent position, and to surround it with a glamour not the less charming because a sparkle of truth concentrates and enhances its delusive glitter.

There is no question but what narratives like those penned by the famous single-hand sailor McMillan were the cause of the yawl's sudden elevation to favor in American waters, and there is no question but what some books are responsible for much of the fabulous that envelopes the rig. There are few of us who would be ready to swallow all that a lover might say in praise of his mistress, and yet a man is just as likely to magnify the points and virtues of his vessel as he is those of his Dulcinea; therefore we cannot be too careful in accepting the evidence of the infatuated yachtsman or in adopting his finding as infallible precedents. For, often carried away by the good behavior of his craft, he jumps at a conclusion, attributing to one quantity that which should be adjudged to the fabric as a whole. This is often the case; and again, too frequently is the rig of the vessel blamed for results which are the sum of defects altogether foreign to a peculiar sparring and canvasing.

The unqualified praise which has been lavished on the yawl rig has, as is usual, awakened a no less unqualified storm of dispraise. While the yawlman has, with that noble effrontery which distinguishes the true crank, claimed for his favorite rig everything in sight, the recalcitrant unbeliever has as broadly denied it, even those common virtues which one supposed to be possessed by even the meanest and most primitive craft.

I have no hesitancy in saying that so far as the driving value of the mizzen is concerned it is an unimportant quantity. This is especially so when on the wind. On most of the yawls I have handled there has been good cause for this. In the first place, the boomkins were too short, and the other spars too light. You cannot expect a sail to sit properly and hold its draught on buckling spars. The lead of the sheet is such that the boom cannot be kept rigid, and just as soon as it blows its end turns up like a pugdog's tail, throwing the canvas all out of shape. Then the back-wind from the mainsail makes it impossible to keep the mizzen full unless it is sheeted very flat. On yawls with gaff-headed mizzens the mast is frequently too short; consequently the head of the sail cannot be kept in place. With jib-headed mizzens the same spar is too light; in consequence when the sheet is brought down hard the mast buckles aft, throwing the head of the sail into a bag. How frequently you see a yawl on the wind with her mizzen all a-shiver. If you make the boomkin longer, the boom stouter, and give the mast a good head, you will get a better sitting and more efficient sail.

Now let us, in order to test the qualities of short-rigged sloop and yawl, place them in such situations as they are liable to get into when cruising. First they are caught in a heavy, sudden blow with a lee shore close aboard. It is necessary to shorten sail at once. The yawl simply lowers her mainsail and, holding way under mizzen and jib, forereaches along, while the crew, having secured the boom, proceed to tie in the reefs. The sloop is in such a situation that she cannot run off; she must either anchor, lower everything and drift, or else jolly along with head sheets flowed and the peak of the mainsail up. Having a part of the mainsail drawing increases the difficulty of reefing, and if there is any sea the lowering of the sail will cause her to roll, making it bad work securing the clew. The yawl's clew is inboard, where it can be readily handled, and owing to her jib and mizzen sheets being aft she is comparatively steady.

Again, we will suppose that both these boats have come to anchor, sails stowed and awnings up. It comes on to blow, and it is necessary to shift berth to a more secure anchorage. The yawl hoists her jib and mizzen--a very easy matter--and beats up to a better anchorage. The sloop has to take in her awning, clear decks and perhaps reef the mainsail before hoisting it to follow. How many times has the cruising man remained in an uncomfortable berth because of the labor of making sail on his sloop after all has been snugged down?

Now let us suppose these two boats are running off large, with a steep sea and heavy wind. The yawl takes in her mizzen and lets her boom broad off, its short length preventing the danger of tripping. The sloop has no mizzen to take in, but it has a long boom which must be watched carefully or else topped-up. And with a strong beam wind the yawl with jib and mizzen stowed will ratch along under reefed mainsail; very few sloops will do that.

One time when coming down along shore with a yawl we had an unsteady northwest wind, blowing a good whole-sail breeze, with now and again tremendous heavy puffs, acting as wind off land frequently does. We made company with a sloop of about our own size, but a much faster boat. In the puffs it was necessary for both of us to let up, but the rest of the time we could carry our canvas without worrying. I put two hands on the main sheet with orders to spill the sail when a puff struck, and, keeping on my course, shivered her through. The sloop man first tried luffing out, but, losing distance by this, he resorted to starting sheet and bearing off; consequently he was all over the shop. Once or twice he had to drop his peak in order to keep control. Neither of us wanted to get offshore, as we had to haul up at the next point, so were hugging the beach rather close. At last he gave in, anchored and started to reef. We followed suit, but kept on our course under jib and mizzen, getting a two-mile lead and first home. He came aboard that evening and asked me what kind of yawl his sloop would make. As he flicked the oakum out of us the next day in a beat to windward I am afraid he didn't stay converted, but relapsed into the sloop heresy.

The ketch rig, which is very like the yawl, has all the latter's virtues and defects and a few of its own. The difference between the ketch and the yawl is this: in the yawl the mizzen-mast is stepped abaft the rudder post, and in the ketch forward of it. In the ketch this brings the mast just where it is most in the way, right at the forward end of the cockpit, generally obliging the putting of the companion on one side, or else taking the hatch well forward to the middle of the cabin. The ketch mainsail is narrow-footed, and longer on the hoist than that of the yawl. It is a very light and easy rig to handle, and for large boats is better than the yawl; and for small ones it is better than the schooner. In this country it is mostly used on shallow, flat-bottomed hulls, such as are employed in navigating Southern waters. In the British Isles it is a favorite rig for coasters, and I have heard it highly commended by coastwise skippers. Most of the sloops formerly used in that trade have been in late years converted into ketches. The most marked advantage it has over the yawl is that, if the largest sail be taken in, there is left in the head sails and mizzen a good spread of canvas; whereas, if the mainsail be taken off a yawl she is under too short sail to do satisfactory work. The advantage the ketch has over the schooner is in getting rid of the long main boom.

Like the catboat, if the weather were a constant quantity, the schooner would be a rig without peer. In smooth water and when she can carry her sail, especially to windward, there is no rig to equal the schooner. She has the speed and weatherliness of the sloop, with lighter and easier sails to handle. She can be shortened down without reefing, and can spread plenty of light canvas in soft winds. Her defect is the defect of all fore-and-afters, although in her case it is aggravated by having the mainmast stepped further aft--she is a bad runner in heavy water.

I have made a passage of twelve days in a schooner, during which time we never had the stops off the mainsail; during part of the time having no after-sail, and the rest of the time a trysail set. To have set the mainsail and squared off the boom would surely have brought about a disaster.

Let me here repeat some former remarks on the subject: It is often a matter of wonder to landsmen why sailors continue to use square sails, when to all intents the fore-and-aft canvas is so much easier to handle. So it is in smooth water and under average conditions; so long as one of our typical fore-and-aft schooners can carry all sail and make progress in a windward direction there is no abler vessel afloat. But when obliged to shorten down or make a run for it, they are the worst craft in the world. So long as you can keep sail on them they will do all that a ship can be asked to do, but once they are stripped in a gale, good-bye to safety. Take a good look at an ordinary two-masted coaster, and you will comprehend at once why this is. These vessels have enormously long lower masts, and the spread of the rigging is in consequence small; their booms are long and heavy, and all the weight above deck is centered in a line over the keel. The pressure of canvas, except when the sails are winged, is all on one side, and is exerted so as to bring a twisting strain upon the supporting spars. There is not, as in the square-rigger, a balancing of weights and strains. The freer these vessels are sailing the more pronounced is this strain. The only relief the spar can find is to impart this strain to the hull, which in consequence forces the bow in the opposite direction and brings a pressure upon the helm. To prevent this action a reducing of the after canvas is necessary.

A close study of the fore-and-aft rigs used along our coast will show what devices have been resorted to in order to remedy this defect. In the first place, there was the subdividing of the mainsail--making a three-master; then a gradual reduction of the spanker, until on many of our three-masted schooners it is to-day the smallest of the three lower sails. At the same time the lower masts have been shortened and the hoists of the topsails increased. On the great lakes the fresh-water man has reduced his spanker to almost the proportions of a ketch's mizzen, the necessity of more constant jibing having forced him to this change. But alter as you please, the fore-and-after is still a bad runner when winds blow strong and seas run high.

Our modern racing schooners are a particularly bad type. They are really large sloops with a fake foresail, this latter bit of canvas being more ornamental than useful. A good specimen of the rig proper are some of our large cruising schooners, with wide-footed foresails and short main booms. The pilot-boat and fisherman rigs are also excellent types.

In a proper schooner the foresail should be in such a position as to allow the vessel to be handled under it alone, as it is the last sail to take off in heavy weather. It should be broad-footed in order to trim properly; you cannot trim a narrow-footed foresail so as to draw when going to windward unless it has a lug; this lug is a nuisance, as it obliges the tending of the sheet when tacking. The main boom should not go over the taffrail beyond easy reach. A forty-foot pole-mast schooner makes a very handy boat for two men to work. Her heaviest sail is lighter than the heaviest sail of a yawl or ketch of the same size. This is something you must always take into consideration when choosing a rig for cruising. The average yachtsman is a man who does not do manual labor for a living, and is consequently soft-muscled. Handling sails, unless you are constantly at it, is hard labor, and if a boat is short-handed is sometimes a heavy tax on the strength of the crew. Any one who has hoisted a heavy mainsail by himself will understand this. Many a time after making sail or reefing when alone I have lain down completely exhausted.

A man who intends to employ a crew can afford to ignore this question, as he can suit his crew to his boat; but when you depend upon amateurs for help you cannot do so. One day you may have a double watch, and the next day nobody. So it is best to select a rig of such weight as you can handle yourself if necessary. This makes you to a certain extent independent of your friends.

_ON SAIL AS AN AUXILIARY_

"_When blows the breeze we spread our sail
And save the gasoline,
But when the gentle zephyrs fail
We start the old machine;
And with a clank of shaft and crank
Go rattling into port--
And this is what, to be quite frank,
Some folks consider sport._"

ON SAIL AS AN AUXILIARY

One day, while standing talking to a builder, we were joined by the owner of a naphtha launch who was desirous of having his vessel rigged as a yawl, and had come to get the builder's opinion as to what the change would accomplish and cost. In response to an inquiry as to what speed he might expect to get out of the craft under canvas, the builder answered, "four miles." "Then," replied the owner in jubilant tones, "she will go eleven miles, as I get seven out of her now without any sail." He was greatly surprised, and rather suspicious of our knowledge, when we informed him that if sail increased the speed of his craft over her maximum to the extent of half-a-mile an hour, he might consider himself fortunate. Now, this man is by no means a lone bird in his belief; he shares the misconception with many launch-owners and others. Like some of our popular authors who write sea stories that are not sea stories, the average man firmly believes that steamships can and do sail, and it will take many years of pounding to get this idea out of the public's head. There are afloat steam vessels that can and do sail, but they are sailing vessels equipped with engines. In former times almost all ocean-going steam craft could work to leeward under canvas, but they, unlike the vessel of to-day, were heavily rigged, most of them carrying full sets of yards forward, and spreading many thousand feet of cloth. The steam vessel of this age, when put to using sail, simply drifts. Except as a check to rolling, the sails carried by steam vessels are of little use.

Now, to the question of what use is sail as an auxiliary power. In vessels of a speed exceeding ten knots, it is of little or no use, except when due to the form of the hull, or for other reasons the slip of the screw is excessive. As, for instance, in a vessel towing others, such as sea-going tugs, where the actual speed is one-half of the screw speed, sail is an aid. Again, in a vessel of bad form, when, frequently owing to the weight on the engine it is unable to run at its highest working speed, sail is an aid, as it lifts some of the weight off the engine, and allows an increase of revolutions without an increase of fuel expenditure. For this purpose, fore-and-aft canvas is of doubtful utility, the square sail being far better. But in high-powered, fine-lined vessels auxiliary sail is of no use whatever. The little that might be gained by employing it under the most favorable circumstances is offset by the retarding effect of the windage under unfavorable circumstances.

A vessel whose screw speed is eight knots and whose actual speed is six knots has a slip of twenty-five per cent. Supposing that her sail power is sufficient to drive her five knots or three knots in excess of the slip. Now, if her speed be increased to eleven knots by using canvas, it must not only take up the slip, but induce an acceleration of the engine, so as to give an additional screw speed of three knots--an increase of 37-1/2 per cent. over the working speed of the engine. This is practically impossible. No engine is built to run at a speed of 37-1/2 per cent. over its working speed, yet unless the screw travels as fast as the hull, it is useless. It is exactly the same thing as when trying to row a boat running under sail; unless you move the oars faster through the water than the boat is moving you do not assist in the propulsion. Reasoning from this, we may lay it down as an axiom, that: When a vessel's maximum speed under power exceeds her maximum speed under canvas, the use of sail in conjunction with power will not increase the speed beyond the percentage of slip.

When mechanical propulsion is the auxiliary power, we have a different problem. Take a vessel capable of being driven by sail at a speed of eight knots, and by her engines alone at four knots. Now, if she be sailing at a speed of eight knots, and we start her engine to make the number of revolutions necessary to induce a speed of four knots, the screw, not traveling as fast as the hull, will be dragged to the amount of the difference between its speed and the speed of the boat--four knots. In that the screw shall have a propulsive force it must be driven at a speed to exceed eight knots, an increase of over 100 per cent. Reasoning from this, we may lay it down as an axiom, that: A vessel whose maximum speed under sail exceeds her maximum speed under power will not increase her speed by employing sail and screw conjointly.

While auxiliary sail is of little or no value, auxiliary mechanical propulsion is. But its chief value lies in it as a substitute, and not as an auxiliary. The wind--the fuel of the sail--is not only a variable quantity, but frequently an absent one. A small vessel, such as are the majority of our cruising yachts, seldom exceeds a speed of eight knots, and as a general average taken through a summer's cruising do not log more than four, much of this low average is due to the hours spent in calms and light airs; and if we add the time lost in waiting for a breeze, the average will fall still lower. A yacht in sailing 100 miles in the usual summer weather takes, we will say, twenty-five hours. Sixty miles of this is made in a fair breeze in ten hours, then six hours in which she makes ten miles, leaving nine hours in which to make the other thirty.

60 miles 10 hours. 6 miles an hour.
10 " 6 " 1-2/3 " "
30 " 9 " 3-1/3 " "
Average for 100 miles, 4 " "

Let us suppose that a similar craft is fitted with a motor to drive her at a speed of five miles an hour. She voyages 100 miles, the first sixty in ten hours. During the doldrums she uses her power for six hours, and makes thirty miles, and in sixteen hours has covered ninety miles against the sail yacht's seventy. Having made the distance at an average speed of 5-5/8 miles, she is within sight of her port when the other is thirty miles off.

Last summer I ran thirty-eight miles in fourteen hours in a small sloop. Thirty-two miles of this distance was made in eight hours, the remaining six miles taking six hours to cover, and if you analyze a set of cruising runs you will see that mine was an exceptionally good performance. I usually, in cruising, figure on making an average of three miles, thirty miles being a fair day's work and forty a good one, while a fifty-mile run is possible only once or twice during the season. This is in a boat whose maximum speed is seven knots.

I have not the slightest doubt but what a man with a yacht fitted with a motor capable of driving her at a speed of five miles, and using the engine only as a substitute for sail when the wind is dead or fickle, could cruise twice as far and see twice as much as one who depended solely upon canvas. This is a deal to promise, but no doubt those who have had a long experience in cruising in our Eastern waters will underwrite the opinion.

But while auxiliary power has its advantages, it also has its disadvantages. It increases the expense; it takes up room in the boat; it is noisy, and, to a certain extent, disagreeable, due mostly to the use of a fuel which is not equal, odoriferously speaking, to genuine wood violets. But its chief drawback is that its use tends to make cruising less toilsome and hazardous. Like all modern

"Inventions that save our seamen's lives,
And murder the breed of sailor men,"

its effect is to discount skill and pluck, to take away from voyaging that uncertainty which is the chief charm of the cruiser's existence. The fact that you leave port with a certainty of getting to your destination on time, barring accidents, makes somewhat monotonous an event that otherwise containing a large element of chance induces a corresponding degree of excitement. There is probably no pastime so tiresome to an active man as steam yachting, especially if it be in familiar waters. A steam yacht is a lazy man's palace and an active man's prison. Except when there is a race or a difficult bit of navigation, I would as soon run a trolley car as a power boat. But, then, happily for the world, we are not all taken off the same molds. Many men yacht for pleasure, and find such pleasure in idleness. I don't. I find my pleasure in physical exertion, and in opposing what skill and knowledge I may possess to the task of getting the better of the elements. But as age and rheumatism tighten their grip, my heart is being gradually weaned from the sail, and I find myself thinking seriously, if, after all, it will not be better to have a little power under the deck to fall back on at certain times.

_ON REEFING_

_Precaution is the mother of safety._

ON REEFING

This is a short chapter on a short subject, but one that is of interest to the green hand. Men often ask when it is time to reef? It is always time to reef when you think it is. The moment you would feel easier and your boat handle better by having less sail spread, is the time to shorten down. Never mind what anybody else is doing or what anybody else tells you. It is your boat, not some other boat that is worrying, and yourself, and not some other person, who is in charge. Never carry sail for the sake of carrying it; the ignorant may praise your recklessness and pluck, but the experienced man will call you either a lubber or a fool.

Never let the action of another guide you in this particular, unless the action agrees with your own judgment. It is very common for young sailors to reef or not reef as they see some other man, and consequently to carry sail much to the risk of their vessel and lives. You must remember that these remarks of mine have nothing to do with racing. In racing, a man cannot reef when he wants to, but when he can; therefore, he frequently carries sail when he would give a good slice of his daily income to have it off, and often keeps in his reefs when he would like to shake them out, but does not for the same reason. Then, again, in racing, boats are always in company, and if an accident happens someone is close aboard to give assistance; but in cruising this is not so, and many a life has been lost for want of a reef in time.

When I was young and fresh I had an idea that if anyone could carry sail on a boat I could do the same. One day I had a lesson that made me think, and partially cured me of the habit. I went with a clever old boatman across the Sound to bring home a new cat. We each took a crew, and, to return, he sailed the new boat, and I the one we had come over in. Halfway across it came on to blow very hard, and it was all I could do to keep my boat on her feet. My crew wanted me to stop and reef, but as the new boat kept on, I insisted upon following her, being afraid that the old man would laugh at me. In plain talk, I was afraid of being thought a coward, and for this I jeopardized my own and the lives of the other boys. When at last, after a struggle and half full of water, we reached port, the old man met me with a torrent of invectives, calling me a fool and several other hard names for not reefing.

"But you didn't reef," I protested. "Reef!" he exclaimed. "No, for I couldn't; but I'd given fourteen dollars if I could have got that sail down. Do you think I was carrying whole sail for fun?" It seems the halliards, being new, had jammed, and they could not get the sail down, so had to lug it. This taught me a lesson, one that I have never forgotten; and oftentimes when I see a man struggling along under too much sail, I wonder if he, like the old boatman, wouldn't give fourteen dollars if he could get that sail down.

The first thing when you get a crew is to break them in to a method of reefing. Give each man a place and teach him to keep it; this is the secret of rapid and efficient work. Let us suppose that you are in command of a small sloop, with a total crew of four. It comes on to blow, and you decide to reef. There is a bit of lee under the shore, and you go in for it. Now you have decided to reef without anchoring, and when close enough luff up and prepare to lower the mainsail. Your mate, your best hand, and the man in his watch go to the halliards, you stay at the helm and your watch-mate takes the sheet.

Now, if you lower the mainsail all the way down, you will have to take in your headsail and drift; this will soon take you out of your kindly lee, but if you can keep some after-sail up, with the jib on an easy sheet, you can jolly her up to windward a bit and keep close inshore. Having decided on this you order the sail lowered down to the reef. The getting down of the sail quickly depends on your cleverness at the helm; you must spill just at the right moment. As the sail comes down your two men handle and lay the sail along the boom, the mate tending the halliards. When the tack cringle is low enough he belays the halliards and ties down the tack. By this time you have the pendant ready, and when the mate shouts "All fast," you haul out, one man helping you and the others shaking and lighting out the canvas. When this is handed out and made fast, the hands begin to tie the points, beginning in the middle and working forward and aft.

Your business is to look after the dog-ear, to tie in the outboard points, and pass a lashing round the clew, wrapping it round the boom. The points are passed between the foot of the sail and the lacing, not between the lacing and the boom, a common error with green hands. Tie your points with a square bow knot; don't tie them too tight; try and put the same strain on all. Don't haul out your clew too hard, especially if it is raining or the water is flying. The pendant will shrink one way, the sail the other, and in consequence the canvas be pulled out of life. As soon as all the points are tied, look them over carefully to see that they belong to the proper reef, and are not tied cross-faced, and, if correct, hoist away.

Lazy-jacks on a boom are of great assistance in taking a sail in, but they are in the way when reefing. Quarter-lifts as substitutes are better for small craft. The reef points should be made of different kinds of stuff, or else be dyed different colors, so as to be easily distinguishable. I prefer different kinds of stuff, as they can be told by the feel at night. The first reef being cotton line, the second manila, and the third cotton.

If you are going to tie in more than one reef, it is best to tie in the first, then the next over it, and so on. This also makes a much neater looking job. Teach your men to roll the sail up tightly before tying in; nothing looks so bad as a reef made up of a series of bags.

If you are caught out in the open, and have to reef, it is best to lower all down and reef running off; by getting the boom firmly lashed amidships you can handle the sail, whereas if you lay-to the sea will make trouble. In running off carefully tend your helm, and keep the vessel moving, or you may get pooped. If anywhere near shore it is best to go in, anchor and reef in quiet, and at your leisure. The methods of reefing a sloop are the same for reefing a cat, but if you have a yawl, ketch or schooner, the work is much more simple and easy.

Always, when anchored in an open roadstead, or in any place where you may have to get out in a hurry, reef your large sails before turning in. Then, if it comes on to blow in the night, you are ready for it. If you expect a squall to hit you, in a place where you cannot anchor, reef down, and do so in plenty of time. Before leaving harbor, if there is any question of weather outside, reef and carry them out with you, until you get the heft of the breeze; if it is lighter than you expected, it is a simple job to shake out.

Reefed jibs are not much use; they seldom work well, and it is far better to shift headsails than to reef them. The jibs should be snap-hooked on the stay; in this way they can be quickly shifted. Reefing on a bowsprit in a seaway is a difficult and dangerous job. I shall speak further of this matter of head-sails in another chapter.

_ON ANCHORS AND ANCHORING_

_"Let's forge a goodly anchor--a bower thick and broad;
For a heart of oak is hanging on every blow I bode;
And I see a good ship riding all in a perilous road--
The low reef roaring on her lee; the roll of ocean poured
From stem to stern, sea after sea; the mainmast by the board;"
The bulwarks down; the rudder gone; the boats stove at the chains;
But courage still, brave mariners--the bower yet remains!
And not an inch to flinch he deigns--save when ye pitch sky high;
Then moves his head, as though he said, "Fear nothing--here am I."_
--FERGUSON

ON ANCHORS AND ANCHORING

One of man's oldest, simplest and most perfect instruments--the anchor. Like all early inventions, it obtained its present form by a slow process of evolution, and, as is the case with nearly all implements of the same nature, it is to-day to be found in use in every step-form which during the gradual process of development it assumed. The primal anchor of stone is still universally employed, its immediate successors, the stone-weighted net and log, are yet in use in the East, and iron forms that might have found their shape under the hammer blows of the sinewy Sidonian smiths still swing from the bows of vessels plying the Indian seas.

As to who first forged anchors of iron there is some doubt, the ancient historians disagreeing on this point with amiable unanimity that characterizes all their statements in regard to the origin of things, both animate and inanimate. The balance of evidence appears to favor the Phrygians, a people of Asia Minor, whose most celebrated king, Midas, is well remembered as the avaricious monarch who had the unfortunate experience with gold, as related in a yarn which probably originated in the imaginative brain of some ancient free-silver orator.

But whether these people or their contemporaries, the ingenious, rich and daring Phoenicians, first forged it, there is no question but what iron anchors were originally used by the maritime nations inhabiting the shore of the great tideless sea. The anchors were, as I have said, of stone and of wood weighted with stone and metal, such as are still used by the Chinese and Malays. It is easy to see how from the latter came the shape of the anchor of to-day. From the use of a straight balk of timber to one with a crook is a natural step. It is much easier to lash a stone to a crook of wood by placing it between the trunk and branch than it is to lash it to a straight stick.

Evidence favors this as the step of progression; the first iron anchors having but one arm and no stock; being simply the wooden crook reproduced in metal. The next step was to add the bill or point, which very readily took its shape from the spear of that day or the spade, both of which implements were arrow-shaped. The next step forward was the adding of the second arm. The arms of ancient anchors were straight, not curved, as are the anchors of to-day. The curved arm being very modern. With the stock added, when and by whom it is not known, the anchor of the ancients continued to do its duty until early in the last century, when an Englishman named Pering greatly improved it by curving the arms and strengthening the crown and shank. At the same time the trip-hammer came into use for forging, allowing of a far more perfect welding of material than could be secured with hand-swung sledges.

In order to understand the action of the anchor, which is perfect, it is only necessary to take the common pick, such as is employed by laborers in breaking up earth, and drive it into solid ground. Drive the arm of your pick right to the helve; now pull on it at right angles to the arm. You cannot move it; nor could the strongest man; simply lift the handle up and the arm will come out of the ground easily. Such is the action of the anchor. Is anything more simple or perfect?

When out ahead this small arm will hold a great ship against wind and tide; when brought under foot it is broken from its hold by half a dozen men. An anchor weighing 2,000 pounds will hold a ship weighing 5,000 tons, yet when brought to such a position as will permit of its being tilted up it can be broken-out by an engine of five horse-power.

Since Pering's day many improved anchors have been patented; of these only two, the Rodgers and Trotman, are of any account. Of what are called "patent anchors," that is, anchors of peculiar shapes, there is this to say, they are inferior to the original form. The only argument in their favor is that they stow easier, and it is for this reason that the stockless variety is employed on steam vessels. This form can be hauled directly into the hawse pipe, thus doing away with the labor of catting and fishing, but they will not hold with the old form, and need a much longer scope of hawse. I have experimented with several of those built for yachts and have in every case found them inferior to the common anchor. They are useful sometimes as stern-holds, and for dropping on ragged bottom, where a common hook is liable to foul.

For use where a vessel is anchored in a current, and is apt to be tide-rode, the Trotman is excellent. The peculiarity of this anchor is, that the arms are pivoted so that the fluke of the upper arm when the hook is biting is down on the shank; this prevents the hawser from fouling and upsetting the anchor if the yacht happens to ride over it.