Chapter II: Preface (2)

Mr. Jessop was the owner of the _Molly_, twenty rater, and _Coquette_, half rater. He consequently often required a helmswoman for the latter, which office he kindly offered me. Little _Coquette_ was an extremely fast boat of Mr. Nicholson's design, and made one of the longest string of flags ever recorded. _Wee Winn_, fortunately for us, only started eleven times that season. In the same year (1893) the majority of boats and the largest prize winners were of a good wholesome type, but the three following seasons they went steadily down hill in this respect. _Elf_ was considered an unsightly monster then, but there have been many like her since, not a whit uglier or less exaggerated, which have proved themselves also the fastest movers. _Flat Fish_ was a case in point. She was most aptly named; indeed, I think the _Flounder_ would have been a still more appropriate designation. She was put together with most wonderful despatch by Fay and Co., from Mr. Soper's design, for my sister, Mrs. Schenley. The first two races she came to pieces, owing to the hurry over her construction, and had to go back for repairs. To hear the flump of her bow on to the water, it was marvellous that anything could hold out; she was just the shape of a spoon forward, and when driven against a head sea she naturally made the splinters fly. Her nose was quite four inches higher in the air by the end of the season, in fact she presented the most cheeky appearance. A most powerful boat in a breeze, in all senses of the word except perhaps the individual frame, she also required a Goliath to steer her. My sister's and my united forces were unequal to the task, and it used to amuse us to watch for the signal of distress held out towards the end of a race by the boastful amateurs, whom we requisitioned to steer on hard windy days. They were never keen to repeat the experiment, and if they did, they were glad enough for us to take turns. Our chief antagonist was _Fleur-de-Lys_, built by Fife and owned by Major Montgomery, one of the few lucky yachtsmen who have not followed up their successes, although a dweller on the scene of action. Lady Sophia Montgomery occasionally accompanied her husband, and took a keen interest in the fray and kept a jealous eye on the records of the rival craft. Theirs was undoubtedly the better "all round" boat, as _Flat Fish_ was no more good than a barge in light weather, although she was conscientiously sailed in all the races for which she was entered. In 1894 two new aspirants for yachting fame joined the ranks, namely, the Hon. Mrs. Oliphant and Miss Lord. I can hardly say which has proved herself the keenest sailor. Mrs. Oliphant was most fortunate in securing an excellent two-and-a-half rater from Sibbick, called _Zivolo_, which made a very good record, taking twenty-nine flags in thirty-six starts. Although the boat was her own property, she very wisely got others to steer at first, though she always accompanied the ship. Now she no longer needs assistance, and though not possessing a boat of her own this year, she has had several mounts on other peoples. The _Rosemary_, a formidable customer to steer was in her hands the latter part of this season, and though a slow boat Mrs. Oliphant often led the fleet in her, and won two or three prizes. Miss Lord has had a succession of one-raters since her début in 1895. She favoured Soper's design at first, but latterly has adopted Sibbick's. All her boats have been large prize winners.

_FLAT FISH._]

In 1895, yacht-racing was distinctly the fashionable sport. Lord Dunraven was no doubt in a great measure responsible for this, he having persuaded several friends to join the twenty-rater class. Lord Lonsdale owned one of these, Lord Dudley another, Prince Batthyany Stratmann, a pretty boat painted blue, and the unfortunate Baron von Zedtwitz, who was subsequently drowned off his twenty-rater, the _Isolde_.

Even Royalty patronized the Solent classes. The Duke of York had a one-rater built at Sibbick's in less than a week, in which he took a great interest though he did not venture himself to join in the sport. The _White Rose_ was, however, in good hands, being most ably sailed by his equerry, the Hon. Derek Keppel. She was not a success, however, and when Mr. Keppel, who was called away at the end of August, confided her to me, I made but a poor show with her, gaining only one first in tour starts. Miss Cox was well to the fore in the same class, also having got her craft from Sibbick. She made a string of twenty-five flags, eleven of which were firsts. My brother had bought an unsuccessful one-rater, he re-named _Fusee_, the year before. He and I sailed this little boat in several races, I steering and he doing the work. It _was_ fun, and the boat was well suited to this game as she was only good for light water, directly it blew up at all she was passed in spite of all we could do. So when my brother went abroad at the end of June I got a boy to help, and sailed in the light wind races throughout the season. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and got ten prizes out of twenty starts, though poor little _Fusee_ was invariably beaten on a reach except in the lightest air, and had to make up all her time on the "beats." That August was a busy month, for on looking back I find I raced every day, Sunday not excepted, as we used to have duels in _Fusee_ and _White Rose_ with amateur crews. The class to which these belonged (one-raters) was then and has remained the most popular of all classes on the Solent. Once at Yarmouth, fourteen of us started together over the line. It was grand fun and I was very proud of leading at the end of the first round in little _Fusee_, but unfortunately the wind dropped completely in the second round, and only a few of us managed to complete the course at all. I think Mr. Paget's _Soper_ got in first, and Miss Cox's _Mavis_ second.

1896 was also a great one-rater year, and Miss Cox had the honour of leading the whole fleet in almost every race she sailed. She had returned to her old ally, Arthur Payne, who designed her the _Speedwell_. No praise is too high for this little champion, for she still holds pride of place and has proved herself as seaworthy as she is fast. I never steered such a wonderful boat, to windward she positively edged along in the teeth of the wind and made all the others look foolish, as she outpointed them to such a ridiculous extent. I often sailed the old _Meneen_ that year, and she also was dependent on her windward powers for her success, as being much shorter than the others she could not be expected to reach with them. This was well shown at some races at Seaview in August, when we headed the _Florence_ (Sibbick's crack owned by the Marquise de Serramezzana) every time to windward, whereas she would pass us again on the reach. The _Florence_ got two firsts and one second, and we secured two seconds and one first out of the three races. Mrs. Schenley had bought the _Corolla_, a success of the previous season. We did very well with her until about the end of July, when _Tatters_ became too much for us, some slight alteration having given her the advantage over us. _Florence_ then came out, and we left those two to fight it out to the bitter end. These boats, both of which were of Sibbick's design, were extremely fast, though they were not remarkably close-winded. Lord Albemarle built _Valeria I._ at Payne's, and I sailed in her many times but failed to score, there were certainly numerous and formidable rivals and _Valeria_ came rather late to the fray. It must be an unlucky name I think, as _Valeria II._ has not proved any better, though she is a beautiful boat and great things were expected of her, being Payne's design. _Tatters_, with Miss Lord at the helm, won first prize in the Ladies' race (promoted by the _Gentlewoman_) on August 4th, Mrs. Oliphant who had a good mount in the _Florence_ was second, Miss Bucknill being third in _Meneen_, I fourth in _Valeria_, my sister last in _Mem Sahib_. There was a fresh wind, and as the harbour was full of yachts, and the course was all amongst them, considerable skill was required in the handling. There were happily no casualties. Another ladies' race in one-raters, with a diminished crew of one amateur, was got up one evening at Cowes by Lord Harrington. There was a fine scrimmage getting on board, most of the women or their boats being late, the starting-gun--a 12-bore--was fired off in one of the bathing machines, regardless of the entreaties of the competitors for time. I was dragged on board the wrong boat at the last minute, my "mount" being late, and off we went after _Speedwell_, but she was already a speck in the distance, and we found we should never catch her again. My sister and I had a deadly encounter in _Tartar_ and _Bodagh_, and after jostling each other round and round and tacking and filling in a remarkable manner only known to ourselves, I came out the best of it and she gained third honours.

_COROLLA, STEERED BY MISS HUGHES._]

In 1897, Mrs. Schenley joined the one-design class--with _Cresta_--- started the year before by Major Colville and Colonel Bucknill. These boats proved very popular and much good racing has resulted. They are ugly but wholesome, not very fast but answer their purpose well. We did not race very assiduously that season as we were often otherwise engaged. _Cresta_ won us about fourteen prizes, in thirty starts I think. Many women sailed in this class, Mrs. Parry and Mrs. Tower constantly accompanying their husbands, also Mrs. Towers Clark and Mrs. Alwyne Greville were occasionally to be seen on the _C'lerk_ and _Eileen_. These latter, however, never ventured to take the helm, though they were much attached to the sport and nothing daunted by weather. The boats owned by women this year were the _Fairy_, Miss Lord, _Cresta_, Mrs. Schenley, and _Speedwell_, Miss Cox, while Mrs. Oliphant was Queen Regent on the _Rosemary_. My sister, Miss Hughes, constantly sailed the _Meneen_ and _Speedwell_, but she will never make such a record as she did with the _Viva_, half-rater, lent her by Mr. Wood, which was one of the largest prize-winners and most successful of her class ever floated.

Half-raters are too small for my taste, and I think a two-and-a-half, as the boats are built now, is the best size for a woman. Possibly the day may come back when the five-raters will be as easy on their helms as they were in 1891. My sister tells me she steered _Forella_, five-rater, in quite a fresh wind this season and had no difficulty in managing her, so perhaps I am not too sanguine in anticipating more sport for us in this class.

_FAIRY, STEERED BY MISS LORD._]

My ideal mode of yachting would be to have a new two-and-a-half-rater whenever the old one was worsted, with a five-rater perhaps now and then to vary the monotony. A fifty-ton steamer, or one perhaps a little smaller, to act as convoy is essential, and it should be fast and have a good saloon, and a couple of rooms to change in if needed. Cowes is the most convenient _pied-à-terre_ from a racing point of view, being very central with regard to the more frequent regattas. Racing is not a cheap amusement, but then, nothing nice ever is. To put it roughly, the two-and-a-half-rater would cost £300 to build, and £100 to "run." The steamer £2,500 to build, and £300 to "run," and the little house at Cowes, one or two hundred for the season. Of lesser items connected with racing there are several, the numerous club subscriptions for one thing being no small matter. The expenses of yacht-racing have been steadily on the increase, and I hope now they have attained their maximum. We have had sixteen racing boats in the family during the last twelve years, our last effort being made in the poor man's class, the one designers, which fact speaks for itself. Many others are in the same hole as ourselves, and are glad enough to find a means of racing without so much expense. The one-design class was specially instituted to meet this demand, as the boat only costs £200 to begin with, and all the costs, wages, etc., are limited and prescribed by the rules. They are fine little craft too, stiff and dry and light-helmed, in fact very suitable boats for a woman to start her racing in. About fifty prizes are given by Solent clubs for this class, though, of course, they are not so well catered for elsewhere.

A trip to the Westward at the end of the Ryde week is a pleasant change, the regattas at Torquay and Dartmouth being quite unique spectacles. I know of nowhere in England where ceremony is so lightly disregarded, or where conviviality is so essentially the order of the day.

The late Prince Henry of Battenberg did honour to these festivities in 1894, and won himself golden opinions by his geniality, and genuine enjoyment of the fun. He asked my brother to sail his twenty-rater, _Asphodel_, during this time, and proved himself not only a lenient master, but a kind friend and a keen sportsman.

My chronicle is now at an end. I am conscious of having made many omissions, and though my love of yachting makes even writing on it a welcome task, still I feel the futility of my endeavours to portray adequately the pleasures of the sport, which it has been my life interest to enjoy.

Barbara S. Hughes.

The following list of Racing Clubs of the Solent may be of use to those interested in the sport:

Ent. Fee. Sub.
Royal Southampton Y.C. 2 gns. 3 gns.
Royal Portsmouth Y.C. 0 " 3 "
Royal Albert Y.C. 4 " 4 "
Royal Victoria Y.C. (Ryde) 5 " 6 "
Royal Southern Y.C. (Southampton) 4 " 4 "
Castle Y.C. (Calshot) 3 " 3 "
Bembridge Sailing Club 3 " 1 "
Island Sailing Club (Cowes) 1 " 1 "
Minima Y.C. (Hamble) 10/6 10/6
Hythe Y.C. (Hythe) 2 gns. 2 gns.
Seaview Sailing Club (Seaview) 1 " 1 "

_MRS. W. L. WYLLIE._]

PUNT RACING.

The first punts on our river--the Medway--were simply flat-bottomed shoe-shaped boats, which were built to slide over the mud, and were principally used by muddies and watermen, or by those people who, having boats anchored off the shore, required something they could push over the intervening flat. With a wind astern or on a slight incline in the mud, the slipping process was simple, the happy owner of one of these primitive punts finding himself on the river with but little trouble. A friend of ours at Gillingham determined to build himself one in his own dining-room to use for rowing, and being of an ingenious turn of mind, as he had to pull the punt up into his garden every time she was used, he added a detachable wheel under the bow, and then by fixing her oars on either side of the gunwale as handles, he was able to wheel her up and down the causeway with the greatest ease. This friend had long since found out that the Gillingham boy, boats, and mud did not agree. He it was who first saw the possibility of the punt being turned into a sailing boat, and when this idea occurred to him he started building the _Snowflake_, an ordinary mud punt with square chime, a centre plate and lug, which in its turn gave place to another named _Crystabel_. A small club was then thought of, for the purpose of opening up the healthy enjoyment of punt racing to the working class, and it was soon formed and my husband invited to become Commodore. A small subscription of half-a-crown, and a shilling entrance fee, made it possible for the working man to enter, and most races were arranged to suit his convenience. The money was paid to the officer of the day before the start, and only by the boats competing.

_Sketch made by W. L. Wyllie_, A.R.A. _For The Sportswoman's Library._

_PUNTS RACING._]

Punts in those days only cost from £4 to £5, and we soon had several. Our eldest son was promised a boat as soon as he could swim, which hurried matters, and a new punt was laid down, finished and christened _Nelson_ before the summer was out, but this, as well as all the earlier ones, leaked. Then a real start was made. My husband being fired with the idea of improving the breed, began cutting out and drawing many models preparatory to building. The greenhouse was found to be the only place long enough, so the boat throve though the flowers faded, the pots grew chips and copper tacks to the despair of the gardener, and we had no show of flowers that winter. In the early spring, the new creation was taken into the little wood close at hand, and there with the sweet primroses and bluebells growing all round her was turned bottom up for all who were interested to come and sand-paper her whenever there was a "spell oh" in the course of the day's work. She was then finished off with a scarlet coat, and carried on the shoulders of four men in procession to the beach, where the christening ceremony was to be performed. At the moment, the family being full of Lear's Nonsense Songs and Stories, the little girl insisted she must have lavender water tinged with pink. So this of course was supplied. The boys ran up flags and hurrahed enough for the launching of a first-class cruiser, the men gave a big shove, and the little girl broke her bottle, calling out good luck to _Scarlet Runner_. This punt never leaked a drop, and sailed splendidly for her size, though unlike the accommodating bicycle of a well-known song, she would _not_ hold two, and in a sea little but a man, mast and sail could be seen. At this time bigger punts were built, principally by Mr. Baker, a fruit-grower of Gillingham, who introduced a stronger, larger type with much higher freeboard. From his little yard were launched _Tar Baby_, _Go By_, _Satan_, and lastly _Black Bess_, which held her own against all comers. The blacksmith also built _Ethel_ and _Mud Puppy_, so that altogether there was a nice little class. _Scarlet Runner_, after several alterations, ultimately beat _Black Bess_. Then came a decision to sail under Y.R.A. rules, and bring the boats up to half-rating. This in most cases meant building afresh, so once more Commodore started chipping bits of nice soft wood, till the desired shape for the new punt to hold two was arrived at. We then hunted for a building shed, and at last settled on a loft over the stables, a nasty draughty place, but one with plenty of room. The punt was drawn out life size on the floor in chalk, and five nice fir planks were procured from the village carpenter for the bottom. The centre plank was one inch thick, and the two on either side three-quarter; a grown oak knee formed the stem, and another the stern post, and to these a strong rope was fastened to make into a tourniquet to give the proper rocker to the bottom. Every day as it grew dusk, off we all went to that horrid cold loft, lit up the lamps and started an abominable din of hammering, a boy generally buzzing round the while with a broom to clear away some of the chips. When I grew tired of crouching and holding a hammer to the rivets, then the boy was victimised. The wheelwright came to lend a hand in the evenings, and envy seized my soul as I watched him send home screw after screw as if they were going into so much butter. Commodore would not even leave his work to come in to dinner, and looking back now, I really think it must have been a very uncomfortable time. The sides were made out of one wide plank of Kauri pine without a join. This was riveted to the beams and angles of Bull metal, and a devoted friend put in the mast step, which to this day holds all the water it catches, sending up a spirt as the mast drops into place. The centre board case gave a good deal of trouble, but even this gave way to patience. The seams were gone over with the greatest care with putty and varnish, as we were determined she should not leak, and the mixture proved most satisfactory, as whatever water the punt shipped ran out of the centre board case, and never a drop came through the seams. I was greatly distressed when the well was put in. I really could not see how I could be expected to sit in any comfort on a butcher's tray, which it resembled. The idea in itself no doubt was lovely, for any water coming on board emptied itself out of the tray, which was flush with the top of the centre-board case, down the case, thus making the boat absolutely unsinkable. But fancy sitting for hours with one's knees up to one's chin in a calm. I argued for a long time, and was made to sit in position over and over again, my husband declaring it was quite comfortable, but I could not see it. I agreed, however, to waive the question till the punt should be afloat. So a light deck was put on her, with canvas strained and painted over it, and then she was turned bottom up on the tressels, and Commodore planed, whittled and sand-papered till every line was beautifully fair. The rudder was shipped on to the transom on the curved Bull metal gudgeons, so that if it touched the bottom it slid up the gudgeons without coming off. It could also be triced up with a line when sailing in shallow water.

_By W.L. Wyllie_, A.R.A.

_PUNT: SEA MAIDEN._]

At last came the happy day for launching, when a cart was brought up from the farm filled with straw, and pulled up close under the door of the loft, the punt being lowered away carefully on the top. In procession we followed down the old road to the brickfields, the little girl[1] bringing up the rear in her chair. When the cart had been backed as close down the river as possible, Sweet Pet dashed her bottle of wine against the boat's side, and with a little excited shriek, called out good luck to _Sea Maiden_, as the punt plunged into the water.

That same evening, _Sea Maiden's_ sail plan was calculated, and drawn out. We have very strong ideas of our own on the sit of a sail, and had proved by many experiments that a sail that sits dead flat is a mistake, but to make sure, we made one more trial with a lot of little paper vanes stuck on pins, and setting our sail, pinned these right across, shifting them time after time as we sailed about. Then we came to the conclusion that there should be a fairly flat after-leach curving very gradually to the luff, and that seams carried across the sail in the direction of the wind, caused less deflection than the usual seams up and down. Now the carpet was rolled up in the drawing-room, and our union silk cut and ruled with the greatest care, each seam with half-an-inch curve towards the luff over-lapping to form pockets for the light ash battens, and a nice round after-leach and foot. Then came the machining, which was simple enough, and fell to my lot, and in time the sail was bundled up and sent off to be roped, with strict injunctions that it was to be sewn loosely to the rope, especially the luff. When it came home it was set between a tree and a fence, where through the early spring it flapped gently up and down whenever there was a light breeze, stretching and improving itself in the sun. Sailing was then started in real earnest, so that we might learn the ways of the boat, and get all the gear to work with the least amount of trouble, before the racing came on. Our balance-jib looked after itself, being laced to a light ash boom. In going to windward the sheet was always fast, and when off the wind it could be goosewinged in a second by letting the sheet run, and pulling on the lee-guy, so that what little we lost in the size of the sail was counteracted by the speed with which we could handle it.

_PUNTS RACING._

(_THE RACE._)]

That butcher's tray _was_ uncomfortable, and there was not a thing in the boat I could lay hold of to keep myself on board. Only those who have sailed punts can imagine the rapidity of their movements, and my first attempts were certainly exciting, as only having the tiller to hold on to, which naturally was not of much use, it came over with me. I several times nearly went backwards into the river. After this, Commodore cut a square out of the well, so that my feet could just fit down, and framed it in with water-tight canvass, and so altered matters that my real joy in sailing began. The feeling of being run away with in a boat is glorious, and a good punt is hard to beat at this. The excitement keeps you in a glow, though the water breaks all round and over you. The first race in which I steered we won, and then began a record on our own river. Punt after punt was built to beat us, but still _Sea Maiden_ came in first. Emboldened by our wins, we took her round to the Thames to try her against the half-raters. Our first race was over the circular course off the Royal Corinthian Club, at Erith, in a very strong wind. As we stepped on board the _Sea Maiden_, the waterman, from a little grey steamer that was being repaired, begged us to be careful, as it was blowing very hard and we should find more sea on the other side. Mr. Hope thinking _Lotus'_ mainsail too big for her, hoisted one belonging to a dinghy, the other boats starting closely reefed. _Lotus_ led the first round, with _Sea Maiden_ a close second, but the wind gradually lightening, _Lotus_ increased her lead. We saw it was absolutely necessary to shake out our reefs, which we dared not do whilst close-hauled, so we could only wait impatiently as the stern of the leading boat grew smaller and smaller. At last we got round the buoy, and out came our reefs in a minute. The effect was magical, and we ran up to _Lotus_ hand over hand, till by the time we reached Crayford Ness mark we were close astern. Mr. Hope could not stand this, so began shaking out his reefs, but we now had a turn to windward and at once passed him, and throughout the remainder of the race kept the lead. The boat was looked at with great curiosity as we came alongside the causeway. She was called a "Thing," an "Eggbox," and other uncomplimentary names, but all agreed that she could go in a breeze.

_SEA MAIDEN._]

Next day was almost a perfect calm. A racing tide was running down the wind to Greenhithe, and we were all mortally afraid of being drifted over the line before gun-fire. Nevertheless, we thought it best to risk it, and consequently stood away close hauled right into the middle of the stream, the other boats meanwhile keeping in a little eddy close to the shore. When the gun did go they were over the line long before us, but we were in the middle of a swinging tide which swept us away at four miles an hour, whilst the others were all trying to work out of their little slack. On reaching Greenhithe we found we had left our instructions behind, and could not remember on which hand to leave the buoy, so to make no mistakes rounded first to port and then to starboard. Unfortunately _Lotus_ came in sight as we rounded the wrong way, and having also left her instructions behind was led astray. Our very light draught enabled us to skirt the mud out of the tide all the way back, and brought us in first again with a very long lead. Our third race was sailed in a moderate breeze which fell to almost a dead calm at the last. _Lotus_ led for the three rounds of the circular course, and do what we would it seemed impossible to pass her; however, at the very last, a stretch of strong tide had to be crossed to reach the line, _Lotus_ left the slack first, sailing straight for the mark. Seeing it was our last chance we kept away in the slack much further down, then started across keeping the line on our weather beam and the tide on the lee-bow, we slowly drifted crab-wise across the broad stretch of river. It was a moment of intense excitement, the wind had died down to a mere breath and a crowd of tugs, huge steamers and drifting barges were coming up with the tide, we had to pick our way through these as we both converged towards the bobbing flag-boat. _Lotus_, seeing her mistake, set a spinnaker and tried to stem the tide, but it was too late, and again _Sea Maiden_ took first gun, and the Muriel Challenge cup for the best of three races.

The punt went on winning after this, till we were afraid of being disliked on our own river, so put her in a railway truck and took her down to the Solent, where the storm drum was up and a sou'wester blowing in heavy squalls. As we started across from Portsmouth Harbour, we reefed down small, for the sea was the biggest I had ever sailed the boat in, the waves breaking completely over us, filling my bucket and drenching us both to the skin. A strong tide too was running to windward, but we got into the shelter of Wooton Creek in a very short time, and were most hospitably received in the Canoe camp and dried bit by bit. Our first race on the Solent was at Ryde, for the hundred-guinea cup, presented by Mr. West. And here we met our old enemy, _Lotus_, which had been doing wonders against the Isle of Wight craft.

Unfortunately, Mr. Hope exclaimed as we came up, "Hullo, Mrs. Wyllie, I think the race lies between the Thames and the Medway today." Now this was most unlucky, as we have always found that wherever any bragging is done we are sure to lose; and so it proved. Keeping an eye on the time ball on Ryde Pier, _Sea Maiden_ was first over the line, the wind was terribly light with a nasty bobbly swell which seemed to knock the life out of her. The boats with heavy lead keels went through it better than she did, and it was not long before we were passed. After rounding the Stourbridge it was a close pinch to Gillicker point, with the tide racing out and the sun blazing and dazzling one's eyes with its reflection in the oily heaving water. It was a weary time, and as we became mixed with the lagging members of the large fleet of one-raters which had started before us, our chances for that day were lost. It took the best part of a day to sail the one round. The Thames and Medway were not in it, _Sea Maiden_ finishing an inglorious seventh.

Next day there was a little more wind, and _Lotus_ came in a very good first, _Sea Maiden_ second, and _Wee Winn_ third. The moment the race was over, the helm was put up and we ran across to Portsmouth hard, and in two hours from the finish, the boat was safely placed on the truck that was to take her to Burnham-on-Crouch, where we were to do some racing, and where _Lotus_ took first each time. There we had a week of first-class sport, some of the races being very exciting, one especially so, for there was a long run in a heavy sea, ending up in a jibe round the buoy which some did, and some did _not_ do. It was a breathless moment as the boom came over and we careered away at a tremendous pace, the boat rocking wildly from side to side, and the waters seething all round and over us. Suddenly I found I had no grip on the helm, the rudder having floated up on our following wave. She broached to at once, and though, thanks to Commodore's prompt letting go of the sheet, we managed to save a capsize, it was a close thing.

That year we sailed twenty-seven races, winning fifteen firsts, six seconds, and two thirds, and ending the season on the Medway with a series of matches in which we all changed boats and crews. It was on a lovely autumn afternoon that we anchored our barge yacht under the wood as committee boat, with tea, something stronger, dry clothes, and a party of friends on board. In every case and with every crew _Sea Maiden_ came in first, till we persuaded Lord Charles Beresford to sail his _Undaunted_ with our sail, when she at once turned the tables. Next year there were a number of new punts built, namely: _Mosquito_, _Star Fish_, _Water Lily_, _Princess May_, and _Tartar_. The Royal Engineers, too, built the _Terrible_ and _Powerful_, sister ships, with long overhanging sterns, and Captain Mareney, R.E., with his own hands built _Bébé_, which has proved the fastest of her class. In a strong wind the _Bébé's_ speed is something quite phenomenal, and one race she sailed in a hard gale, surprised everyone who saw her. Mr. G. C. Kerr's punt, _L'Espérance_, besides being good-looking, sails very fast; and on one occasion, in a light wind, beat the seventeen-ton, _Buccaneer_, in a race to Sheerness and back, without time allowance. Owing to the drawing of our punt, which appeared in the _Field_, there have been many imitations of our flat-bottomed class started in different parts of the world. The Puffins at Plymouth, a little fleet at Weymouth, the new class at Southampton, and individual boats in Scotland, Northumberland, Anglesea, Florida, and even distant Hong Kong. There was a rumour that a challenger for the Seawanhaka Cup should take the shape of a long flat punt, and for this purpose a drawing was made by one of our most celebrated designers, but the Canadian holders of the cup have accepted the American challenge, instead of that of the Minima Yacht Club, so, this spring, the sound of the hammer will not be heard in our loft.