XI.
THE COST OF YACHTING. CAUTIONARY AND ECONOMICAL HINTS TO TYROS ABOUT TO EMBARK IN THE SPORT.
In a witty essay Mr. W. L. Alden, author of “The Canoe and the Flying Proa,” points out that the most reckless woman is vastly inferior in wild extravagance to the ordinary yacht whose owner has enrolled her in a yacht club. It is with yachts as it is with women, he argues. A man who provides himself with a pretty wife, equipped with a sufficient quantity of clothes, might keep her very cheaply if he did not permit her to go into society, which Mr. Alden conceives is about the same as introducing a yacht to the society of other fashionable yachts. He declares that when the once modest schooner or bashful sloop has once tasted the pleasures of a regatta, she proceeds to lavish her owner’s fortune with frightful recklessness. During the racing season she splits her sails as though they were lace flounces, and sheds topmasts and booms as though they were hairpins. At the close of the season he has to call in the aid of the shipbuilding profession, and to lavish upon her costly tonics of hemp and iron and other expensive remedies prescribed by skillful yachting specialists.
When spring returns she is not satisfied with the position of her masts; she insists upon being provided with a new and more graceful stern and a complete wardrobe of new sails and signals. After these are supplied she declines to race unless her bow is lengthened ten or fifteen feet. Next, she finds fault with her figure and wants to be given more breadth of beam. Mr. Alden thinks that the owner of such a craft ought to have an independent fortune, or at least be counsel for an insolvent railroad. A yacht that squanders money like water all summer, undergoes elaborate repairs in the fall, and is completely remodeled every spring, is infinitely more extravagant than any woman who ever wore 32mo shoes or microscopic gloves. Mr. Alden concludes that the only way to be a happy yachtsman is to buy a slow and plain-looking yacht that rarely cares to go into society and carefully shuns the giddy regatta.
There is much solid substance in the above, though at first sight it may appear to be somewhat fantastic. Unless an owner takes a personal interest in his yacht she is bound to prove a very costly luxury. If he gives _carte blanche_ to every Tom, Dick and Harry that has to do with her he will be amazed at the extent of the bills. The most expensive luxuries in the world are said to be racing stables and theatres run for the pleasure of rich men without business instincts. A large racing yacht conducted on the same extravagant and reckless basis might well hold the third place in the list.
A prudent man, before investing in a yacht, will make inquiries as to the probable expense likely to be incurred, and will cut his coat according to his cloth. In this he will act as a sensible man making any other investment. Before purchasing a cottage at Newport, a person of average intelligence calculates the cost, and decides whether it is within his power to afford such a luxury. He doesn’t rush at it blindly like a bull at a gate. Most of our racing yachtsmen have begun when mere boys, generally with small craft, and have gradually worked their way upward tentatively, as it were, until they have owned the largest type of vessel. Take Mr. J. Rogers Maxwell, a representative yachtsman, as an instance. He commenced his yachting career with a mere cockleshell of a craft some fifteen feet long. He has ascended by easy stages, and knows the cost of building and running all kinds of pleasure craft. The result of his varied experience would be valuable indeed, for he has had a hand in the design of every craft that has carried his private signal.
The life of the yacht owner, of course, is not all rose-colored. There is an occasional dash of bitterness in his daily draught. It is possible for him to hire a sailing-master who knows his business, to engage a temperance crew, and even to secure the services of a steward who is honest to the core. But there is ever present with him, from the morning he goes into commission in the spring until the chilly afternoon in the autumn when he hauls into winter quarters, the Yachting Parasite.
The yacht owner soon becomes painfully aware of the existence of this excrescence. Whenever a camel falls down exhausted on the sands of the desert, a vulture is sure to await him with ravenous appetite and murderous beak and talons. So, too, wherever a yacht owner touches, he is always sure to be beset by some flattering knave eager for an invitation, and longing to stretch his legs under the cabin table and partake of its hospitable fare.
This is the fellow to steer clear of, for if he once manages to get himself domesticated he becomes like a tame cat. He will flirt with the ladies aboard, if they are so foolish as to permit it; he will rook your son at cards; he will call for and drink your choicest vintages, and smoke your most fragrant weeds; and all this with an insolent air of proprietorship galling in the extreme. The only way to rid yourself of his presence is to burn the yacht, or to lash a couple of cannon balls to his legs and make him walk the plank. He is above taking even a broad hint to depart.
The Yachting Parasite has an abundant feeding ground in America. Some of our yacht owners are marvelously susceptible to flattery. The Parasite is wide awake to this weakness and avails himself of it. He secures a season’s free board amid luxurious surroundings. He lives on the fat of the land, and the yacht owner hasn’t moral courage enough to kick him ashore. On the contrary, he seems to enjoy his sugary speeches. The Parasite is found under every flag, our American variety being naturally jealous of any foreign rival. Particularly objectionable to him is the English or Irish interloper with parasitical designs on what he regards as his own rightful prey. The successful Parasite thus lives a pleasant life during the yachting season. He has more fun than the owner, and neither expense nor responsibility. He sometimes is fortunate enough to be retained in his master’s household all winter. His fawnings have become indispensable to his patron’s comfort. A queer creature, truly, but he is one of our recognized yachting “institutions.” Guard against him, my brethren; never let him play the part of Old Man of the Sea to your Sindbad the Sailor. He is too unwholesome and expensive a luxury for you, and it is about time that he is abolished.
In times of serious financial depression, when a cold wave of economy permeates the land, owners of large schooners need be at no loss for substantial reasons for tardiness in fitting out.
These spacious craft are expensive to run. They are great gobblers up of greenbacks, their voracity being incapable of appeasement. As a matter of fact, yachtsmen fall an easy prey to land-sharks disguised as ship-chandlers and merchants who cater to the needs of those who take their pleasure afloat.
Monster steam vessels and unwieldy schooners soon reduce the balance at the bank unless their owners bring to bear on the situation the same business shrewdness that dominates their offices in Wall street, where every little bill is audited with lynx-eyed subtleness, and the salary list, from the cashier to the three-dollar-a-week office boy, is scrutinized with economical care every week in the hope of cutting down expenses by reducing the working staff.
My heart goes out to the man who cultivates yacht racing not for ostentatious and vulgar display, but from an innate and hearty love of the sport. If I can give him a few hints on the way of saving a dollar or two of his modest store, I shall only be too delighted.
The carrying of large crews is obligatory in racing yachts but is by no means requisite. In another chapter I have mentioned the small number of men carried on the _America_ and _Sappho_ in their voyages across the ocean. In the Atlantic race of December, 1866, in which _Henrietta_, _Vesta_ and _Fleetwing_ took part, each yacht carried a complement of four officers and twenty-two men. This was a large ship’s company for a 200-ton schooner, but the season was winter and the stakes $90,000, so no risk was taken. The centerboard schooner _Montauk_, in her voyage to the West Indies in 1884, carried a sailing-master and a crew of thirteen. The _Athlon_, a 60-foot sloop, is worked by a skipper, two men before the mast and a steward. Captain Henry Andruss of the _Sasqua_, a smart 35-footer, carries only one paid hand, but then Andruss is a host in himself and his son makes his weight felt when he tails on to the mainsheet.
That this question is considered of importance in England is evident from the following editorial which I transcribe from the _Yachtsman_:
“One of the best features in the early life of British yachting was that the vessels then engaged in racing did not depend so much as in these days on professional aid for smartness and seamanship. We may smile at times when we read the accounts of races sailed fifty years ago, and at the yarns of ‘the veteran’ anent ‘the good old days,’ etc.; but there cannot be a doubt that yacht racing has since then drifted too much into professional hands, and whilst we have learned (small credit to us) to look for greater smartness in the handling of our racing yachts, we must not ignore the fact that we pay for it right royally. In proportion to the number of racing yachts now afloat there can be no doubt that good amateur sailors are lamentably fewer than they were even twenty years ago.
“If in the wisdom of the Y. R. A. it should be so decided that paid hands shall be limited in number for each class, the change should be hailed with joy, and to lessen the sorrow of the grumbler it may be pointed out that the smallest number likely to be assigned in every case would be far in excess of what our forefathers would have dreamed of. The cost of crews is enormous nowadays, not only from their numbers, but from the excessive remuneration for their services. This is a matter, indeed, which cannot be regulated in any feasible way that we know of, and therefore a limitation in the number of paid hands is the more desirable. To compare the wages, or ‘salaries,’ of to-day with those of past times, we may mention that when the old Clyde clipper _Clarence_ was in her prime (about 60 or 65 years ago) her sailing-master received £1 per week, and her ordinary hands 18s. They had no outfits given them, and they were grateful for a glass of grog to celebrate the winning of a prize. This was a typical case until the early fifties, when the scale of wages seems to have gone up. In the _Stella_ and _Cymba_ days, sailing-masters of renown got £1 5s. per week, and the men £1, and then outfits and prize-money first began to appear, though on a very small scale. McKirdy, skipper of the _Cymba_, was the first sailing-master, so far as we know, who received a yearly salary.
“Those were ‘the good old days,’ however, and in nothing have they gone beyond recall more than in the lowness of wages. That they are now beyond recall may easily be believed by all yacht owners, and, therefore, these should hail with gladness any scheme likely to stop one or two of the many leaks in their purses. Some of those leaks, however, might well be counteracted by the clubs through the simple expedient of increasing the amount of their prizes. To offer the 20-raters of to-day the same sum as was offered as a prize to the 20-tonners of 1870 is strikingly absurd.”
In general it may be remarked that it is wise to ship no more cats than can catch mice; before making repairs to your vessel to procure estimates; to buy your stores and provisions in the open market and exercise judicious economy in the running of the yacht.
It should be remembered that aside from the first cost it takes very little more to run a 30-footer than a 15-footer. In the latter you have no accommodations whatever, while a 30-footer can be made quite a roomy little ship if space is judiciously adapted. Three men can handle a 30-footer with ease, if the fingers of the men are not all thumbs.
Before buying a yacht see that there are no liens against her for unpaid wages or stores. If she has been libeled in the Court of Admiralty you will probably have to pay claim and costs. A creditor can without trouble libel a yacht and put an officer in possession. Your only course then to pursue, if you dispute the claim, is to give a bond for the amount and fight the matter in the courts.
Following is the scale of wages for yacht sailors now prevailing:
Captains from $250 to $60 per month Mates „ 100 „ 50 „ Engineers „ 175 „ 90 „ Engineers on small yachts „ 125 „ 85 „ Stewards „ 100 „ 60 „ Cooks „ 125 „ 50 „ Sailors „ 30 „ 25 „
The cost of outfits follows:
Captain $75 Mate 55 Engineer 60 Cook 50 Steward 40 Sailors, each 35 Messman 35
The expense of keeping a 40-footer depends much upon the tastes of her owner and whether used for racing or cruising. Here, however, is an example. It will be noted that the rates are lower, owing to the size of the craft:
Captain $60 a month; outfit $25 Two sailors 60 „ „ 25 Cook 50 „ „ 20 Waiter 35 „ „ 18
The grub for the crew would cost 50 cents per day per man.
Hauling out three times during the season, $ 50 New mainsail 100
Racing money is paid as follows in large yachts when a victory is scored:
Captains $25 Mates 10 Sailors 5
It is not usual in this country to pay “losing money.”