II.

THE RACING YACHT. SOME REMARKS ON THE MATERIAL, CONSTRUCTION AND SELECTION OF A VESSEL.

It is a matter of some difficulty to advise a prospective yachtsman as to the acquisition of a racing craft. There are two courses open to him. He can either build or buy ready-made. If the question of money is purely a secondary consideration, the wealthy amateur will probably feel inclined to give an order to a fashionable naval architect for the down-to-date design of a tip-top craft in the class on which he has set his heart. He will find plenty of accommodating builders who will meet his views conscientiously and do their best to follow out the minutiæ of the draughtsman’s design. Swell sailmakers—and we have some of the best on earth—will supply his craft with a splendidly fitting and sitting suit of muslin, and he can hire a crack skipper who will teach him all the tricks of the most expert timoneer.

[Illustration:

THE CUTTER “ORIVA.” ]

Mr. George L. Watson, the famous Scotch yacht designer, in a lecture on “Progress in Yachting and Yacht Building,” delivered early in 1881, said:

“As prophecy nowadays seems to be one of the branches of naval architecture, and we have been told by Sir E. J. Reed and others what kind of ships the next generation are to have, I am anxious to keep abreast of the age, and herewith present you with the outline specification of a 10-tonner for the season 2000. You see I keep myself pretty safe, as but few of us will be alive to see her sail. The dimensions I won’t venture on. Some yachting authorities assert that you have only to make the boat long enough and heavy enough, to beat all existing racing craft; and it seems strange that, with this knowledge in their possession, they should not only have had sufficient self-denial to resist the building of certain successes, but have even gone the length of turning out duffers of normal dimensions. I think there is just a little more in it than that, and can’t believe that a 10-tonner 80 feet long could ever be a success.

“We have not exhausted the possibilities of form yet, and really know very little more about it than Solomon did when he confessed his inability to understand ‘the way of a ship on the sea;’ and when we do arrive at perfection in shape, we can set to, then, to look out for better material.

“The frames and beams, then, of my ideal ship shall be of aluminum, the plating below water of manganese bronze and the topsides of aluminum, while I think it will be well to deck her, too, with that lightest of metals, as good yellow pine will soon be seen only in a museum. For ballast, of course we should have nothing but platinum, unless the owner grudged the expense, when we might put the top tier of gold.

“But by that date I hope we won’t care for sailing in such a sluggish element as the water. I firmly believe that some day the air will become as easily traversed as the earth or ocean.”

Now, in 1881, Mr. Watson’s fame as a naval architect was quite firmly established, but as a prophet he was without honor in his own and every other country. It is therefore remarkable that his prediction, made presumably in playful jest, was, in a great measure, fulfilled not very long after. A torpedo boat of manganese bronze was actually built in England for the French Government in 1891. Then followed the construction in France of the yacht _Vendenesse_, built almost altogether of aluminum, in 1892, and a series of French torpedo boats of aluminum in 1895–6. The Yankee _Vigilant_ was constructed of Tobin bronze below the water-line and of steel above. She had a hollow bronze centerboard and a solid bronze rudder. The latest development of Mr. Watson’s fanciful idea was introduced in _Defender_ in 1895. This celebrated yacht has topside plating, deck beams, deck-strapping and upper fittings of aluminum, 4 per cent. nickel alloy, while the bottom plating is of bronze. The stern, frames, floor-plates, stiffening-angles, bilge-stringers, inverted angle-bulbs, underdeck beams, the two deck beams inclosing mast, tie-plates round mast, stepping-socket, bed-plate fittings, and supports and chain-plates are of steel. All the rivets are of bronze, thus completing an intimate association of the three metals, which was followed in a short time by inevitable general corrosion.

[Illustration:

Courtesy of Harper Bros.

“VIGILANT,” CUP-DEFENDER OF 1893, IN DRY DOCK. ]

Advocates of aluminum as a fit metal for use in shipbuilding point out that no effort at insulation of any kind whatsoever was made, not even the simple precautions which would have been insisted on in an ordinary case of steel and bronze construction. _Defender_ was built with only one purpose in view—the winning of a series of races. Her subsequent proceedings were a matter of no interest to her owners and builder. Had she been built of steel throughout she would have cost about half as much as she actually did, and would have been good for fifteen years of hard sailing if built up to Lloyd’s rules. But she might, in that case, have failed to fulfill her only reason for existence—the beating of Lord Dunraven’s _Valkyrie III._

The scientist who will invent some alloy to combine with aluminum which will make the metal free from corrosion when immersed in salt water will confer a great boon on the builders of racing yachts and, incidentally, will enrich himself. That this problem will be solved eventually there is little doubt. I hope that Mr. Watson will live to see his prophecy realized, even to the extent of aerial navigation.

At present, however, the heavy first cost of aluminum and its short life, when exposed to the erosive action of sea water, bar its use in the construction of racing yachts, except when the sentiment of defending or regaining an historic national trophy is indulged in by a syndicate of capitalists. Probably no single millionaire would have gone to the expense of the _Defender_, but when the price of her was divided up among several, the plethoric purses were not so very much depleted after all.

Aluminum as a material for yachts has been an interesting subject to me ever since it was first used in shipbuilding. The aluminum used in the _Defender_ had an alloy of from 12 to 15 per cent. of nickel. The majority of the plates used were ⁵⁄₁₆ and ⅜ of an inch in thickness. The heaviest plate weighed about 200 pounds, was 38½ inches wide, 13 feet 10 inches long, and ⁵⁄₁₆ of an inch thick. This plate gave an ultimate tensile strength of 40,780 pounds per square inch, an elongation of 10 per cent. in 2 inches, and the reduction of area at the point of fracture was 14.75 per cent. Each and every plate used was tested.

The _Defender_ was constructed of aluminum plating from the water-line up. Her deck beams, lateral and diagonal braces under the deck, a stringer plate connecting the deck beams with the sides of the vessel, continuous throughout her length, and the rail were of aluminum. The same metal was also used for dead-light frames and covers and small interior fittings. The sheaves of all her blocks were of aluminum.

I have read nearly everything that scientific men have written on the subject of aluminum as used in _Defender_, and from my reading I deduce that the metal failed to prove satisfactory because proper care was not taken to prevent oxidation by galvanic action. In the first place, bronze rivets were used instead of aluminum rivets, or iron rivets galvanized. Secondly, the insides of the rivet holes were not coated with white lead, nor were the rivets themselves dipped in white lead or paraffine before driving, as might easily have been done. In fact, no precaution whatever was taken to minimize galvanic action.

Mr. Herreshoff was advised to lay strips of heavy canton flannel well soaked in white lead between the lapping aluminum plates of the topsides and the bronze plates of the underbody, and then rivet up with the flannel between the edges of the two plates, forming a neutral joint. This precaution was not taken, however, the result being great corrosion where, through the junction of the two metals, galvanic action set in.

[Illustration:

“UNCAS” IN FRAME. ]

As a general axiom it may be averred that whenever brass or copper comes into direct contact with aluminum exposed to sea water, corrosion is very rapid. It may also be averred that aluminum rivets can be made fully as strong as those of any other metal. Thus there is no good reason for using bronze rivets in the construction of an aluminum vessel.

The conclusion I arrive at is that aluminum as a material for a racing yacht should not be condemned until further experiments have been made. In strength and lightness it surpasses every other metal.

It is the general opinion of shipbuilders that the best system of construction is to use one material alone in a vessel. Let her be all wood or all one metal, and then the strains will be equal and corrosion will be avoided. There is no question that wood should be used in all of the smaller craft up to the 51-footers, at any rate. Strength and lightness may be most effectually combined by the double-skin system of construction, which is by all odds the most efficient and lasting. In boats larger than these, steel may be the material of the hull. Metal in small craft is necessarily so thin that unsightly bulges often disfigure the topsides of vessels built of sheet-iron, ships’ lifeboats, for instance. It is true, however, that these metal boats are light and durable, and when hung to a ship’s davits do not warp or shrink or become leaky when exposed to the burning rays of a tropical sun. These qualities, though of great value in the craft indicated, do not apply to small pleasure vessels, especially when the great heat of metal vessels in our hot summers is taken into consideration. Steel corrodes quickly and soon gets foul. It should, therefore, be kept well protected with a preservative anti-fouling paint.

Old-fashioned yachtsmen, a class of people almost extinct, prefer wood to any other material in sailing yachts of even the largest size. But the most prejudiced of these ancient mariners are forced to admit, however reluctantly, that wood will not satisfactorily stand the jarring strains of powerful modern marine engines. It would, of course, be possible to build an oaken vessel strong enough to sustain the stress of the machinery, but the timbers would have to be bulky indeed, and the weight would be far greater than if steel were made use of exclusively.

A friend of mine who is a devoted yachtsman, as well as a pretty fair hand with the rod and gun, having lost the bulk of his money by an unfortunate investment, was able by the exercise of ingenuity to build for himself a smart and able cruising schooner at a very moderate cost, and also to spend a winter very enjoyably. This is how he went about it: In the first place he had a thorough knowledge of the type of boat he wanted, and had a smattering of the shipbuilders’ art, being moderately handy with tools. So when he went to a naval architect he was able to give an intelligent notion of his real requirements, and wasted no precious professional time.

In the course of a few days the designer furnished him with the requisite working plans and specifications, all admirably clear and concise, and easily comprehensible by an intelligent mechanic. Armed with these plans he packed up his traps, not forgetting his guns, and started for a certain seaport in Maine, where some of the best coasting vessels in the world are built and where suitable timber is to be had at a very low price. Labor is cheap and so is the cost of living. He fell in with a skillful shipwright who owned a shipyard in the harbor, and he made satisfactory terms for the building of the vessel, the construction of which he generally supervised. She was built under cover, and thus was not damaged in the least by the severe winter weather. My friend made the seaport his headquarters, his expenses averaging no more than $1 a day. He went on several enjoyable shooting expeditions, and was much benefited in health by the pure and bracing air.

[Illustration:

INTERIOR OF “UNCAS.” ]

[Illustration:

FORM OF “UNCAS.” ]

The best of it was that by this means he became the owner of a very serviceable vessel. All her timbers were sound and seasoned. The estimate was so reasonable that, instead of galvanized fastenings, which the specifications called for, he found that he could afford yellow metal and copper bolts wherever prudence dictated their use.

Being a “crank,” as most good yachtsmen are, when the vessel was in frame he gave every inch of her a right-down good soaking with kerosene oil, applying as much as the dry wood was able to absorb. He says this process preserves the wood almost indefinitely. All the oak was fall-cut, and not a sappy timber found a place in the shapely hull.

In the late spring she was launched and rigged, and, when fitted out, her owner sailed her to New York, where the nautical critics carefully surveyed her and pronounced her good.

I would not, however, advise the average man to follow my friend’s example. The man of whom I write was exceptionally well qualified and equipped for the undertaking and carrying out of such a job. Outside of his general knowledge of shipbuilding and seamanship, he was a shrewd business man, with plenty of tact and knowledge of the world. It would be difficult for the most rascally of shipbuilders to get the better of him. He was also favored by good fortune, insomuch as the honesty and skill of the builder of his yacht were concerned. He tells me he saved twenty five per cent. in the actual cost of the vessel if built anywhere in the neighborhood of New York. Moreover, he got a boat capable of being classed in the highest standard at Lloyd’s and good for a quarter of a century’s hard cruising. Having seen the boat put together, he never felt anxious about straining her in a squall. There was no skimping of quantity in material to procure a flimsy kind of lightness. Hull, spars and rigging were all scientifically adapted to the heaviest strains they were likely to encounter, and a sufficient margin of extra strength was added in case of emergencies. The schooner has been in commission now for several years, her owner living aboard her practically all the year round. He has cruised south as far as the Caribbean Sea and north to Labrador. He is his own skipper, and a better seaman and navigator never broke a biscuit on his knee or drank grog out of a pannikin.

The only objection that can be made against iron or steel yachts in the larger classes is that their bottoms foul so rapidly. So far as their capacity to resist stress and strain is concerned, nothing can be said against them. The first English iron yacht was the _Mosquito_, designed by Tom Waterman and built on the Thames in 1848. The first American iron yacht was the cutter _Vindex_, designed by Mr. A. Cary Smith in 1870 for Mr. Robert Center.

Nickel steel, as its name implies, is an alloy of steel with nickel. It possesses all the qualities of steel for shipbuilding purposes, but it has, in addition, a breaking strength of forty tons to the square inch, as against twenty-seven for ordinary steel. The twenty-rater _Dragon III._, built in 1893, had frames and beams of this metal, which I think is destined to be much used in the construction of racing yachts.

The composite system of construction, namely, steel or iron frames and wooden planking, is in my judgment open to objection. The frames of a racing yacht are of course as light as the naval architect dares to make them in his effort to reduce weight in every detail of hull, spars and rigging. When it comes to pass that the seams of a composite yacht require calking, the strain of driving the oakum home produces such a pressure on the bolts that fasten the planks to the frames that they snap off.

The composite system was introduced in 1860 on the Clyde, many China clippers being built after that plan. Among the first composite yachts were _Nyanza_ and _Oimara_, built by Robert Steele & Co., of Greenock, about 1867. All the large racing yachts of the present time that are not constructed of metal have steel frames, as a sufficiently light wooden frame could not sustain the immense strains of the large sail plan and the heavy weight of the outside lead.

If a man sets his heart on having a composite vessel he should take care that her skin is of double construction, one layer of plank overlapping the other, with a liberal luting of white lead between. Thus no calking whatever is necessary; the vessel is tight as a bottle and much stronger than if the old-fashioned plan is followed. The only objection is the expense.

John Harvey, the English yacht designer and builder, who was first to introduce the double-skin system in yachts, told me once that many composite yachts were hauled out in his yard at Wivenhoe to be repaired. He had been inside several of them when being calked, and seen the nuts break off and roll down in the bilges by the score as the oakum driven by the calking iron wedged the planks apart. This result is so obvious that it requires no further comment.

It may well be urged that it is scarcely worth while to incur so much more expenditure of hard cash on a boat that may be obsolete, so far as racing is concerned, after two or three seasons; and this argument will probably prevail with the average yacht owner. I consider it my duty, nevertheless, to call attention to the defects of the system generally in use, and to the advantages of the double skin; and I will give two striking illustrations which I think will prove my case.

[Illustration:

“UNCAS” ON THE WAYS. ]

Mr. Coate’s smart 10-ton cutter _Madge_, designed by Mr. G. L. Watson, was a single-skin craft. She was built in 1879 and created a great sensation when she came to this country and beat all our skimming dishes. In 1890 she was almost ready to fall to pieces, and her rickety frame had to be strengthened with iron knees and fitted with new topsides. In 1894 she was condemned as unseaworthy and fit only for the junkman.

On the other hand we have the cutter _Oriva_, designed by John Harvey and launched in 1881. She is of the double-skin construction, lighter in proportion to her size than _Madge_, and to-day she is as strong and stanch as she was when she was launched.

If the prospective builder decides to use wood as the material for his boat, he will find that American elm is the best material for the keel and the garboard strakes. When entirely submerged, elm will last for half a century or more, but is especially liable to decay between wind and water.

White oak should be used for the stem, sternpost, knightheads, apron, deadwoods and futtocks. The timbers should be of oak or hackmatack, and the planking of yellow pine. This material, if well seasoned and properly put together, should insure a sound boat. Yellow-metal fastenings should be used below the water-line, if the expense is not too much for the owner’s purse. If that should prove the case, galvanized iron may take their place. Personally, I believe in having the hull as perfect as possible. I would dispense with costly gingerbread work below deck, having everything cozy and attractive, and would expend the extra money, thus saved, on hull, spars and rigging, yellow-metal fastenings being my first object. Of course, if I were building a “freak” for a couple of seasons’ sport, I wouldn’t use a fragment of copper in her construction.

It is well to bear in mind that there is absolutely no market for an outclassed racer. For that reason I cannot recommend the expenditure of much money on the construction of a craft whose life in the usual course of events is limited to perhaps three seasons. Double skins and copper fastenings would be absurdly out of place in such craft. But when a man builds a cruiser, there is no reason why she should not be as sound and strong as a judicious expenditure of money can make her.

There is much to be said for and against copper sheathing for the bottom of a racing yacht. For some reason or other it has never been popular in this country. It was first used in 1761, when the British warship _Alarm_ was coppered at Woolwich.

Mr. G. L. Watson is authority for the statement that, as early as 1834, a metal keel was fixed on the _Wave_, built for Mr. John Cross Buchanan by Messrs. Steele.

The man desirous of obtaining distinction in the arena of yacht racing, supposing he decides to build a yacht of his own so that the luster appertaining to her achievements shall be inevitably associated with his name, should, in the first place, have a full and businesslike understanding with his designer, who will only be happy to meet him half way and will cheerfully name the honorarium for his draught. The designer supplies drawings, plans and specifications, and supervises the work of the builder.

The builder’s duty is to furnish an estimate of the cost of such yacht, which estimate, if accepted by the yachtsman, should be embodied in an agreement that takes the legal form of a contract, after being signed.

The agreement should specify:

1—That the yacht shall be constructed according to specifications and drawings furnished by the designer, complying with all requirements therein set forth regarding material and workmanship, and that all work shall be completed to the satisfaction of the designer and surveyor (if any).

2—That the yacht shall be delivered to the owner on a certain date afloat and complete, and in default of completion by such date, the builder shall pay a certain stipulated sum for each and every day afterward during which the yacht remains incomplete and undelivered, for liquidated damages, the owner being empowered to deduct such damages from the price of the vessel.

3—That the builder shall be paid by the owner a certain sum on the signing of the agreement, a further sum when the yacht shall be in frame, yet another sum when the yacht is timbered and planked, and the final payment when the yacht is completed to the satisfaction of the designer and surveyor, and delivered to the owner ready for sea.

4—All damage to the yacht, through fire or any other cause whatever, previous to her delivery to the owner, shall be made good by and at the expense of the builder, and to the satisfaction of the designer.

The specification should fully set forth the dimensions of the yacht and the material to be used in her construction. As an example I append the general specifications of the _Uncas_, one of the three one-design 46-foot schooners designed by Mr. A. Cary Smith in 1898:

General Dimensions.—Length over all, 64ft. 2in.; length on l.w.l., 46ft.; beam, extreme, 16ft.; draft without board, 6ft. 6in.; least freeboard, 3ft. Specifications: Keel, white oak, molded, 5½in.; stem, white oak, sided, 4½in.; sternpost, white oak, sided, 5in.; frames, hackmatack, double, sided 2in., molded at keel 3½in., at planksheer 2¼in.; floors, sided 2½ right and left; trunk log, sided 6in. and molded 10in., bolted with ⅝ galvanized iron; sides of trunk, yellow pine and white pine, 2x8in., bolted with ⅝ galvanized bolts; centerboard, oak and yellow pine, bolted with ⅝ galvanized iron; pin and hanging to be of brass; ballast to be of lead furnished by owner, 20,000 lbs. in all, 18,000 on keel bolted with ¾in. Muntz metal bolts, 25 in number; planking of yellow pine, spike fastened; clamps, yellow pine, 2 in number, 1½x6in.; shelf, same, 5x2in., worked to shape, 1 through bolt on each frame; bilge strakes, yellow pine, 3 on a side, 1½x6in.; ceiling, only where cabin work calls for it, ¾in. pine; deck beams, white oak, sided 3in., molded 2⅜in.; partner beams and house beams to be sided 6in.; partners, hackmatack, kneed with same; planksheer, white oak, 1¾x7in.; deck plank, white pine, 1¾in. thick by 2¼in. wide, spiked; bulwarks, pine; stanchions, white oak; trunk cabin, tongued and grooved sides, 1½x3in., with wrapper; trunk deck, tongued and grooved stuff, 1½in., covered with canvas; hatches and slides, mahogany; bitts, locust; windlass, pump brake; anchors, 120 lbs., 160 lbs.; chains, 70 fathoms, ⅜ tested.

[Illustration:

“OUANANICHE.” ]

All chocks and kevels as required; steerer, Perley patent, mahogany wheel about 30in.; tanks, galvanized iron, to hold about 200 gals.; pump in galley basins to discharge in receivers (bilge pump); one small tank on C. B. trunk.

Masts and spars of best spruce; rigging, best cast-steel wire rope and manila; sails to be as follows: mainsail, foresail, forestaysail, jib, small jib, small jibtopsail, second jibtopsail, spinnaker, two gaff-topsails, small maintopmast staysail; blocks of white ash; iron work of all kinds, of best iron galvanized; awning stanchions galvanized; joiner work to be of tongued and grooved stuff, where it will not be seen, and the rest to be paneled, of white pine, all to be of ¾ stuff; to be painted with three coats of paint.

The 21-footer _Ouananiche_, designed by Mr. T. E. Ferris and built at the same yard as _Uncas_, is an excellent example of the modern type of boat. Her accommodations are good and she is both fast and able.

The specifications may also include the cabin fittings and all furniture, upholstery for berths, and ship stores generally, not including edibles. It is more satisfactory to the owner to have an estimate of the total cost of the craft complete and ready for sea.

The owner too frequently suggests changes from the specifications, which, in all cases, entail considerable expense. These alterations are quite justly charged for by the builder as “extra work;” and if the owner is a good hand at “suggesting,” as the tyro generally is, the bill for “extra work” makes a big item when the final account is rendered. I have known it to amount to as much as $500 on a $2,000 craft. Sometimes vexatious litigation follows.

All this trouble may be avoided by having a clause inserted in the contract to the effect that no work done on the yacht without a written order, signed by the designer and countersigned by the owner, shall be deemed extra work. The careful builder will insist on such a clause if he is alive to his best interests.

A yacht, in the interesting process of construction, possesses a sort of hypnotic attraction to the man it is being built for. He haunts the shipyard from the hour the men turn to in the morning to the time they knock off at night. Naturally, he is anxious to know how she progresses. If he were a wise man he would keep religiously aloof from the scene of operations, and leave the work of inspection and supervision to his naval architect. These remarks apply only to the tyro, who is usually as proud of his first yacht as a young mother of her first-born. With old stagers it is different.

On the day of the launch it is customary for the owner to buy liquid refreshments for the workmen in the shipyard. The naval architect, too, feels hurt if he does not receive a personal invitation to the ceremony and a seat at the collation which follows the launch.

If a man has neither the means nor the inclination to build a boat of his own he need not despair. There are always in the market a number of serviceable boats. A shrewd buyer, if he keeps his weather eye open, may pick up a rare bargain. It is his own fault if he gets the worse of the transaction. Given a good designer and a good builder in the first place, he may safely conclude that the craft he has his eye on was not a “gingerbread” boat when she was launched.

[Illustration:

“DRAGON III.” ]

Unless the purchaser is well versed in boats I should by all means advise him to have the craft surveyed by a competent man, whose charge will be moderate. It is sure to be money saved. A boat with a bulb fin or a heavily weighted centerboard is peculiarly susceptible to strains and wrenches which a tyro would be likely to pass over, but which would be clearly apparent to the unerring eye of an expert professional.

Sometimes a man who thinks he is built on the lines of a yachting enthusiast joins a yacht club and builds a boat in a fashionable class. After a few weeks he discovers that all his enthusiasm has evaporated; that he takes no interest whatever in the sport. His next course is to offer his craft for sale. He is often so disgusted that he lets a purchaser have her for a song. This is a shrewd man’s opportunity, and he should not let it escape. It is not often, however, that such windfalls come in one’s way, in spite of the old adage that a simpleton is born every minute.

Let me in all seriousness conjure you never to buy or launch a yacht on a Friday! If you do, you will surely rue it. The superstitions of old sailors are not to be despised. It is quaint and curious that superstition of the sea about the lucklessness of Friday, but I for one most devoutly believe in it. I have reason, too, for on one fine Friday morning, ever so many years ago, I set sail from the port of Sunderland in the stout brig _Goshawk_, hailing from the port of Shoreham, with Captain Cuddington in command. On Sunday morning we were ashore on the Long Sand in a howling gale, and the brig went to pieces in six hours. I was saved with others of the crew by a smack from Harwich, in charge of brave John Tigh, but a poor boy, just fresh from a Sussex farm, perished. I shall always remember that day. There were two life-buoys aboard, and these the captain and the cook secured. The instinct of self-preservation was strong, no doubt, and it was not an era of heroes. I was a romantic child at that time, on my first sea voyage, and fresh from a course of “The Three Musketeers,” “Monte Cristo,” and other such entertaining literature. I thought then that we two little frightened boys would have been allowed the safeguard of the life-buoys. Now I know better.

[Illustration: [Sunrise]]