III.

THE TYPE OF YACHT. WHAT SHALL SHE BE—KEEL, CENTERBOARD, OR BULB-FIN?

When we come to consider the type of yacht most desirable to buy or to build, the problem is perplexing. We must in every case be guided by circumstances. For instance, a deep bulb-fin boat for racing or cruising on the shallow waters of the Great South Bay would be manifestly out of place. Nor would a sharpie be the most desirable class of craft for use on the deep water of the lower Hudson. Locality is what must guide us in our choice. Build or buy a boat suitable for the work she is intended to do.

Remember that nearly every type of craft, keel, bulb-fin, centerboard or double-huller, has some good qualities to recommend it. For cruising, a keel yacht of moderate draught, so as to be able to enter harbors where the water is comparatively shallow, may be recommended. A centerboard vessel for the same purpose, to those who prefer the type, holds further inducements. A wholesome knockabout for general purposes, fishing and class-racing affords lots of sport. A modern fin-keel for racing only cannot be surpassed. So out of these various types you have only to choose. It is not necessary in this connection to sing the praises of the keel type. It speaks for itself. For speed and safety it is equally adapted. In war and in commerce as well as in yacht racing it has made its mark.

[Illustration:

“GLORIANA.” ]

There are a number of yachts which without exaggeration or affectation may well be characterized as epoch-making vessels. First comes the schooner _America_, which revolutionized yacht naval architecture in Great Britain. Then follows _Evolution_, the parent of the bulb-fin type of to-day. Next comes the Scotch cutter _Madge_, which was responsible for the decline and fall of our unwholesome “skimming-dish” type. _Puritan_ is next—a compromise between the two extremes of deep cutter and shallow centerboard. It should be remembered in connection with this boat that she combined the factors of outside lead, moderate draught and ample beam, and was in every way a new departure, reflecting great credit on her talented designer, Mr. Edward Burgess. _Gloriana_ was as pronounced a departure as _Puritan_, her famous spoon-bow and immense overhangs arousing all the British designers and causing them to steer a new course. Her influence was quite as great as that of _America_. She made Nat Herreshoff famous.

[Illustration:

“MADGE.” ]

The remarkable feature of _Gloriana_ was that while her length on the load water-line was 45 feet 3 inches (she was built for the 46-foot class), her length over all was 70 feet. As the fullness of the bilge extended to bow and stern, the more she was inclined, the greater was her water-line length. I never saw a stiffer yacht. Her record for her first season (1890) was eight starts and eight first prizes. _Dilemma_, the Herreshoff fin-keel, may also be described as an epoch-maker, as her form and her fin were speedily adopted and adapted by British designers.

It will be noticed that all the yachts enumerated, except _Puritan_ and _Dilemma_, are of the keel variety.

The long reign of what may be termed the demoralized centerboard type is happily over. It is really a matter of marvel that the shoal hulls of great beam, destitute of a safe range of stability, and carrying a dangerous spread of sail, did not oftener turn turtle and cause a greater loss of human life.

The Hudson River freight sloop was a safe and well-built craft, well adapted not only for the commerce of our coasts but also for long ocean voyages. So far back as 1785 the _Albany_, an 84-ton sloop, Stewart Dennis master, made a voyage to Canton, returning with a cargo of tea. Between 1790 and 1800 there were about a hundred sloops plying in the freight and passenger trade between New York and Albany, and proving fast and able. These packets flourished until steam drove them out of the business.

[Illustration:

THE GERM OF THE CENTERBOARD. ]

The centerboard, an improvement on the Dutch leeboard, first used on the Hudson about 1830, has since been a necessity because of the shallowness of some of our harbors; and there is no reason why it should not continue to be popular, if the model is of sound design and the construction strong. Every objection against the centerboard system may be met by the argument that a large proportion of our coasting schooners on the Atlantic seaboard are fitted with centerboards, and ply their calling winter and summer, in storm and calm, and the unerring test of their seaworthiness is that the underwriters do not look upon them as greater risks than those of the keel variety. A marine underwriter is generally shrewd and businesslike, and keeps a close watch on the statistics of maritime losses. If it were proven by the wreck returns that centerboard vessels were more prone to succumb to the perils of the raging main than the craft not built with a movable fin, the inference is obvious, the premium of insurance would be graded to meet the risk.

[Illustration:

“VESTA.” ]

I think that this argument will appeal to all people of common sense, and will settle the question of the relative safety and seaworthiness of the two types. But there is this to be said on the subject, that very much difference exists between a craft constructed for carrying coal and another built for the purpose of pleasure. I think it may be averred without error that the early centerboard yachts were, as a rule, modeled by shipwrights who had a due regard for the factor of initial stability as well as strong hulls scientifically put together. But, step by step, a school of naval architecture came into vogue, so far as centerboard yachts were concerned, in which most of the sound principles of yacht designing were totally ignored. Mr. W. P. Stephens, in an interesting and scholarly paper read before the Society of Naval Architects and Marine Engineers in 1895, well says:

“The centerboard lent itself as a willing accessory to the sacrifice of that depth which is essential to a safe range of stability, mere sail-carrying power being derived from an excess of beam, which was but an additional element of danger. In the search for speed under special local conditions, mainly those of summer racing, the true principles of naval architecture, so apparent in the work of George Steers and others of the earlier designers, were utterly ignored, and a most dangerous and vicious school of designing prevailed throughout American yachting.

“Taking the centerboard sloop and schooner as they were up to 1880—dangerously shoal and wide in model; often clumsily built of soft wood, with the poorest of fastenings; faultily ballasted with stone and iron inside; the hull inherently weak in form from the great beam and lack of proportionate depth; the entire middle portion of keel and floors cut away, with the familiar ‘hinge joint’ where the mast was stepped, just forward of the trunk; and with the deck construction made worse than useless as an element of strength through the absence of all beams in the middle portion of the vessel and the presence of a great superstructure, the cabin trunk—the accepted laws of naval design and construction fail to give any reason why such craft capsized no oftener and kept afloat as long as they did; and we can only fall back for an explanation on the doctrine of a special providence.”

Mr. Stephens is not only a naval architect, but also a practical shipwright, and therefore, his scathing arraignment of the centerboard type must be taken as emanating from his ripe judgment and long experience. It must be remembered, however, that he is a pronounced advocate of the keel type, and has long waged war against the centerboard. So far as his denunciation applies to the vicious and exaggerated variety I agree with him, heart and soul. But I am not prepared to condemn the whole class because of the glaring imperfections to be found in examples.

It must be borne in mind that without the aid of the centerboard the pastime of yachting would be impracticable on innumerable sheets of shallow water, both salt and fresh, to be found in North America. With that point in view, the abolition of the vicious element in the type, and its succession by a sound and seaworthy class of pleasure craft, should be the aim of all yachtsmen. And since the year 1880 great strides have been made in that direction. I have witnessed with joy the decadence and abolition of the “sandbagger,” a craft of immense beam, shallow draft, and big sail plan. The sandbagger was the ideal racing machine of twenty five years ago. Its place has been taken by the fin-keel. I wonder if the fin-keel is destined to be succeeded by the double-huller, such as _Dominion_, which made her début in Canada in 1898?

In the course of the same paper Mr. Stephens also says: “To us familiar with it [the centerboard] from our earliest knowledge of the water, the striking characteristics of the type appeal with little force; but if, with our knowledge of the sea, of naval instruction, and of the strains and stresses to which every vessel is subjected, the idea were laid before us, for the first time, of a vessel with the entire backbone and floor construction cut away for the middle third of her length, devoid of deck frames almost from mast to rudder-post, with a great box amidships open to the sea, and with a thin, movable plane projecting deep below the bottom, it would be strange if the majority would not condemn on sight a combination so unmechanical, so lubberly, and so dangerous.”

But Mr. Stephens gives the other side of the question also. He says: “In the hands of competent and honest shipwrights the centerboard coasting schooner has disproved all theories as to the non-utility of the type for seagoing purposes: in a hull of moderate first cost and running expense it has carried swiftly, safely and profitably its cargoes of coal, lumber, sugar, firewood, barley, bricks, or general freight, both on the lakes and on the Atlantic, up and down the ‘Beach,’ across Nantucket Shoals, and around Hatteras in winter, light or loaded, taking in and landing its cargoes in localities inaccessible to the keel vessel. In the ocean coasting trade it has been and still is a powerful factor for good; and in the local trade it has been a Godsend to the small farmer or miller or lumberman, carrying his product cheaply and safely from his own small creek or bay to a profitable market. In the face of such practical results all theories as to the initial weakness of the centerboard type or its inferiority as a seagoing vessel must stand aside; numerous instances of bad design and construction may be found, it is true, but they prove nothing against the type itself in capable hands.”

This last extract gives a fair presentment of the whole question. It is by practical results that the centerboard yacht must be judged, as well as the centerboard coaster. I believe that the centerboard has been beneficial to the sport of yachting. I will go further, and will say that without the board yachting could not possibly have attained the great popularity it now enjoys in this country.

Viewing the subject broadly, I see no reason why the centerboard should not be good for centuries to come in honest cruising and racing, especially in classes of moderate size. The keel will probably bear off the palm in the larger classes of cutters and schooners, but for craft in the thirty-foot class and under, the centerboard has advantages which the bulb-fin in my judgment does not possess. Those who care for speed alone and whose ambition it is to acquire a stock of more or less inartistic silverware, will continue to pin their faith to the fin. Others who like to enjoy a modicum of comfort when afloat may safely swear by the centerboard.

When I was a young man I had an unconquerable prejudice against the centerboard. My opinion of the type was often expressed in language of great warmth and strength. Mind you, I was not so utterly devoid of common sense as to be blind to the advantages of the “board” in shallow water. I had, however, a fixed idea that the average centerboard sloop was no good in a blow. This view has been considerably modified in the school of experience. It once fell to my lot to be an eye-witness of the excellent seaworthy and speedy qualities of a centerboard sloop in an easterly gale on Long Island Sound. When we reached port I was perfectly willing to confess that a vessel of the type aboard which I had been, if well-found and well-manned, was equal to any keel boat of her size that I had ever sailed on.

Permit me to spin you the yarn:

The cruise of the Atlantic Yacht Club in 1889 will always be remembered because of the bad weather encountered on the Sound between Black Rock and New London. In that year Jefferson Hogan was Commodore and the schooner _Cavalier_ was the flagship. I was the guest of Vice-Commodore E. B. Havens on his stout sloop _Athlon_, a remarkably fast and able craft in heavy weather, but by no means speedy in light airs. She was built by Mumm, at Bay Ridge, for Dr. Barron. Mr. Havens bought her and lengthened her six feet, adding a handsome “Burgess stern,” which improved her appearance wonderfully. I joined the _Athlon_ at Black Rock, Conn., on Saturday, July 13th, and, after passing Sunday very pleasantly, turned in early, as the orders were to get under way next morning at five o’ clock, the early start being necessary, as our destination was New London, distant nearly fifty miles to the eastward.

I recall that, as we were enjoying our pipes on deck preparatory to going below for the night, the weather looked dirty and the barometer was falling.

The guests of Mr. Havens besides the writer were Mr. Levi Burgess and Mr. Havens, Jr. All of us were capable of lending a hand in an emergency, and when the time came we did our level best.

[Illustration:

“ATHLON.” ]

The preparatory gun from the flagship aroused us next morning at an hour when the early birds were still roosting. Going on deck we found a light wind blowing from east-northeast and a drizzling rain falling. The sky looked threatening, and all round the horizon black and angry clouds were clustered. A glance at the aneroid in the companionway showed a fall of two-tenths of an inch during the night. While the men were sweating up the peak and throat halyards and heaving short on the anchor chain, Mr. Burgess and I sneaked below and interviewed the steward, with the result that we each got outside of a cup of fragrant coffee mellowed with some remarkable old cognac, carried on the _Athlon_ for medicinal purposes only. Fortified with this we joined our shipmates on deck, giving an imitation of two men looking eagerly for work and praying to the gods not to be successful in the quest.

“Shall we get the jibtopsail out of the sail locker?” inquired young Mr. Havens of his father.

“I guess the weather looks more like a double-reefed mainsail than a jibtopsail,” was the reply. So the jibtopsail reposed in the locker.

Bang! went the gun from the _Cavalier_. It was the signal to start. Anchors were broken out smartly, jibs were hoisted, and the squadron sailed out of the harbor and began the long and dreary beat to New London in the chilly, pelting rain.

As I remarked above, the _Athlon_ requires a strong breeze to start her, and, although our anchor was up in good time, the smart sloop _Anaconda_, with Mr. Prague at the helm, looming up like a gray ghost in the mist, glided past us and assumed the lead of the fleet. The _Anaconda_ was the only boat in her class that ever beat the swift Fife cutter _Clara_—an achievement that speaks volumes in her behalf.

“Our turn will come by and by,” tersely remarked Mr. Burgess. Events proved that he was a prophet.

Presently the _Anaconda_, far out to windward, was struck by a savage squall. Down came her flying kites by the run. I looked at her through the glass and saw her heel over until the water boiled and bubbled on her lee deck. All was now activity on the _Athlon_. The boats were swung in and everything was made snug for the approaching gale. Mr. Havens determined not to reef till the last moment, and just before the squall, with its long line of white water in marked contrast with the murky clouds above, smote us, we clewed up the gafftopsail. It wasn’t an instant too soon. Had that topsail been set when the blast hove us down nearly on our beam ends the topmast must have snapped off short, like the brittle end of a carrot. Mr. Havens was steering. He gave her a few spokes of lee helm and kept her shaking in the wind till the first fury of the squall was exhausted. It was almost as dark as pitch for ten minutes. When it cleared up a little we cast anxious eyes to windward and to leeward to see what had become of our companions. The _Anaconda_ had snugged down to a couple of reefs. The 40-footer _Chispa_, a brand-new Burgess boat, was taking it easy under storm trysail and foresail. The sloop _Concord_ was scudding back to Black Rock under a bare pole, with the _Fanny_ chasing her under short sail. The schooner _Azalea_ was having a lot of trouble, and the flagship _Cavalier_ was making plucky efforts to collect her scattered and stormbeaten convoy about her.

Just about this time the _Athlon_ began to go. She was carrying her whole mainsail, jib and foresail. Every now and then a shower of spray dashed over the weather bow and drenched the Commodore as he stood at the wheel. The yacht now and again careened to the puffs to such an extent as to take in green water over the lee coaming of the cockpit. We passed the _Chispa_ as if she was at anchor, and soon began to forereach on the _Anaconda_. Under the pressure of the gale the masthead fairly buckled. It was a case of carrying on sail with a vengeance, but the Commodore had confidence in his craft, and Mr. Burgess and I had confidence in the Commodore, so we went below and drank to the health of the brave little ship. The steward forsook his kitchen and pantry. He was too nervous to stay anywhere except on deck. As Byron sings:

He was a man in years, And long had voyaged through many a stormy sea, And if he wept at length, they were not fears That made his eyelids as a woman’s be; But he, poor fellow, had a wife and children— Two things for drowning sailors quite bewild’ring.

The wind and sea increased. Lumbering schooners bound to the eastward showed only a rag of canvas, while the west-bound coasters were under single or double reefs. Still the _Athlon_ held on to everything, showing the ability of a representative centerboard sloop to do wonderful work in heavy weather. At last things came to such a pitch that we _just had to_ shorten sail. We were knocked down by a squall of particular violence. Anybody to windward of us might have caught a glimpse of _Athlon’s_ keel. We hauled down the jib and tied a single reef in the mainsail, which, being brand-new and soaked with rain and spray, was hard to handle. At last we got it reefed, and after swaying up the halyards taut as bars of steel we hammered at it once more.

The gale was dead in our teeth. The other yachts of the fleet had disappeared, most of them seeking harbors of refuge. The _Athlon’s_ destination, however, was New London, and thither she threshed her way right gallantly, making a short leg and a long leg along the Connecticut shore. Never before had I seen so heavy a sea in the Sound, and I had had a long experience on which to draw.

The crew looked like drowned rats. Every time we tacked, the yacht shipped a good deal of water as she plunged her bows under in the steep head sea. It was hard work for all hands, but there was a lot of excitement in it. By and by we struck a streak of good luck. It was off Branford Beacon, and it was just one bell in the afternoon watch. The wind had a trifle more northing in it, so much so, in fact, that our saucy and stanch little ship was able to lay her course for Bartlett’s Reef lightship, thirty-five miles distant.

This prospect cheered us up considerably. The steward resumed duty and gave us a square meal of fine cold roast beef and pickles, which we washed down with bottled Bass. Thus strengthened, we went on deck and set the jib, gave her a foot or two of the mainsheet, and, keeping her a good full, went smoking through the perturbed sea at a great rate. The whole distance to Bartlett’s Reef, at the entrance of the River Thames, was accomplished with the _Athlon’s_ lee rail under water. Strong gusts from the land smote her at frequent intervals. If all her gear hadn’t been of first-class material, something would have carried away. At half-past four o’clock we passed the lightship, having made the thirty-five miles in four hours—a highly creditable performance, considering the villainous weather we had had.

Our troubles, however, were not over by a long shot. The ebb tide was running out of New London harbor with the velocity of a mill-race. It was blowing a living gale dead in our teeth. The beat to the city against wind and tide was as hard a one as I remember on this side of the Atlantic; but we drove her at it. Glad enough we were to cast anchor off the old steamboat landing at six o’clock, thus ending twelve hours of tough fighting, in triumph. The _Chispa_ arrived at a quarter to eight o’clock that evening. The rest of the fleet reached port in straggling order the next day. The _Athlon_ thus had the credit of beating the whole squadron, including several vessels treble her size. The _Cavalier_, of course, could easily have made the passage, but Commodore Hogan felt it his duty to stick to the bulk of the fleet, and for this he was justly commended. So thus it came to pass that _Athlon_ made the record heavy weather run in her history, covered herself with glory, and made a convert of me.

I have had some experience of yachtsmen, but I feel bound to say that I never saw a vessel handled better in a blow than _Athlon_ was by Commodore Havens on that occasion.

This must be added. If the _Athlon_ had not been well-built, well-rigged, and her sails good, in addition to being handled most capably, it is not likely that she would have made such a splendid record.

[Illustration:

CATBOAT “DOROTHY.” ]

The popularity of the catboat as a racing craft will never die out in this country. The horseless carriage may supersede the hansom-cab in our city streets, and the electric launch may usurp the place of the Venetian gondolas, and drive the gay gondoliers to adopt some other means of livelihood. But the catboat is destined to survive all such revolutionary changes, and a century hence it will doubtless be more in vogue for pleasure, sport and business than it is to-day. In hull and sail plan it will probably be much improved, but its general type will remain unaltered. For cruising as well as racing it will never fail of an array of enthusiastic admirers.

Of catboats there are many varieties. They are plentiful at all waterside haunts, and as they glide gracefully to and fro they look so tempting and so easy to handle withal, that the visitor from the woods or the mountains longs to be afloat in one of them, grasping the tiller with his left hand, while his strong right arm encircles the slender waist of his trusting but slightly timid sweetheart. The average catboat is as safe as a church when sailed by a man who knows how, and the art of sailing her may soon be acquired. But when a lubber undertakes to handle her she may become as stubborn as a balky mare and as perilous as the bottomless pit.

Many who have no liking, inherent or acquired, for the modern racing freak, whether in the 15-foot, 20-foot or 30-foot class, need not give up their hopes of acquiring fame in mosquito craft racing. A good, fast catboat is never out of date, and there are various classes of these wholesome little vessels in which there is always room at the top. The best of the racing cabin-cat is that she has not yet degenerated into a mere machine, but has certain modest accommodations which permit her to be used for pleasant cruises.

The heavy sand bags, or shot bags, which a few years ago necessitated so much laborious toil and the carrying of such large crews, are now, happily, out of date, shifting ballast being barred in nearly all clubs. The modern cat carries outside ballast, which makes the sailing of her a pastime, not a perspiration-compelling task, while for handiness in rig the cat cannot be surpassed.

[Illustration:

“KEWAYDIN.” ]

[Illustration:

THE HERRESHOFF CATBOAT “WANDA.” ]

By many ingenious methods and contrivances the mast is so securely stepped and stayed that there is now no danger in carrying a press of sail in a piping blow or a steep head sea. The boat can be sailed along and permitted to feel the full strength of the breeze without any fear of springing the mast or straining the boat forward.

Catboats of many kinds there are, from the craft common in the Great South Bay, with its pleasant but rather flimsy summer cabin, to the robust boat of Cape Cod, which bravely dares the steep seas of a stormy coast, and is at her best in a vigorous blow. I don’t know of any craft of such light draught that can compare with the “Caper” for bad-weather qualities and general all-around usefulness. She is by no means pretty to look at, but her appearance can be materially improved without detriment to her sterling attributes. Mr. F. M. Randall has introduced to New York a modified “Caper.”

All his boats have been built by the Crosbys, of Osterville, Mass., who now have a branch shop in South Brooklyn. They have been highly successful, and with _Ethel_, _Presto_, _Step Lively_, and _Scat_, Mr. Randall won pretty nearly everything he tried for.

Not less successful was the catboat _Kittie_, designed and built for Mr. Hazen Morse, by Captain Thos. R. Webber, of New Rochelle. She has a lead shoe on her oaken keel, through which works her centerboard of Tobin bronze. Launched in 1894 and sailed by her owner, _Kittie_ won fourteen first prizes that year, and in 1895 she carried off seventeen firsts. She is now owned in Galveston, Texas. She is 27 feet over all, 20 feet on the load water-line, 9 feet beam, draught 2 feet, mast 30 feet, hoist 19 feet, boom 33 feet, gaff 21 feet, and sail area 700 square feet.

The racing catboat is such a fascinating theme that a whole volume might be devoted to its advantages and possibilities. No finer craft in which to learn the rudiments of yacht racing can be chosen by an amateur; and there are several classes, large and small, in which eager rivals compete from the beginning to the end of the yachting season, offering many opportunities for the winning of prizes.

A successful racing cat is the 25-foot cabin craft _Wanda_, designed and built by the Herreshoffs, for Mr. F. T. Bedford, Jr., of Brooklyn. She is 30 feet over all, 21 feet 9 inches on the load water-line, with 12 feet beam. Her record for 1898 was thirteen starts and thirteen firsts.

_13 Starts._ _13 Firsts._

May 16th.—Norwalk.

May 30th.—Norwalk.

June 25th.—Indian Harbor.

July 2d.—New Rochelle.

July 4th.—Larchmont.

July 9th.—Riverside.

July 14th.—Seawanhaka; won in 30-foot class by eight minutes actual time.

July 23d.—Norwalk.

July 30th.—Indian Harbor; won on resail.

August 13th.—Horseshoe; 30-foot class by twenty-six minutes.

August 20th.—Huguenot.

August 26th.—Huntington.

September 3d.—Atlantic.

25-foot cabin catboat _Wanda_: 21ft. 9in., l. w. l.; 30ft. o. a.; beam 12ft. Designed and built by the Herreshoff Manufacturing Co., Bristol, R. I. Owned by F. T. Bedford, Jr., Brooklyn, N. Y.

[Illustration:

MID-SECTION OF “EVOLUTION.” ]

[Illustration:

SHEER-PLAN OF “EVOLUTION.” ]

[Illustration:

LINES OF “JULLANAR.” ]

By a glance at the illustration of _Wanda_ (p. 104) it will be seen that Mr. Nat Herreshoff, her designer, has introduced the modified form of fin-keel which he exploited so successfully in _Vigilant_. _Wanda_, in point of fact, was designed and built to elude the measurement rule in force at the time of her creation. Like _Gloriana_, when heeled, she gets the benefit of long overhangs forward and aft, while at the same time she escapes the penalty of excessive length on the load water-line. Taking into consideration all her features, it must be candidly acknowledged that she is the most “scientific” catboat that “tonnage-cheating” ingenuity ever devised. Both the principles of yacht designing that worked so admirably in _Vigilant_ and _Gloriana_, namely the large lateral plane and the increased water-line length, when heeled, have been embodied in _Wanda_. The result has been a gratifying success. Catboats of the olden time used to measure about the same length over all and on the water-line. It remained for Mr. Herreshoff to produce a boat 21 feet on the water-line with an over-all length of 30 feet.

[Illustration:

“JUBILEE.” ]

[Illustration:

“DILEMMA.” ]

[Illustration:

“NIAGARA’S” LINES. ]

In marked contrast to the _Wanda_ is the catboat _Dorothy_, which is quite famous, both as a cruiser and a racer, on Long Island Sound. She is a sturdy boat that can give a good account of herself in a blow, and, in addition to this most excellent quality, she has a nice roomy cabin, in which every inch of space is utilized. Her mast is well secured by means of stays and spreaders, and, as may be seen from the illustration, her rig is scientific and down to date.

[Illustration:

ENGLISH FIN-KEEL FREAK “NAMELESS.” ]

The _Dorothy_ is interesting as showing the transition stage between the old-fashioned catboat and the new _Wanda_, which is sure to become popular as a racing machine, but from her limited accommodations is not likely to be much sought after as a correct type for mere cruising.

[Illustration:

“ROCKET,” 1851. ]

[Illustration:

“NIAGARA.” ]

I have said before that _Evolution_ was the parent of the ballast fin, and in an article I wrote for OUTING many years ago I think I made out a good case. She was designed by Mr. E. H. Bentall, an English manufacturer of ploughs and other agricultural implements, whose famous yawl, _Jullanar_, created a sensation when she came out in 1875, from the circumstance that the deadwood was cut away fore and aft in the most audacious manner. She was, perhaps, the most original tonnage cheater ever built, as a study of her plans will show. The cutting away of her forefoot was followed by Mr. G. L. Watson in his design of _Thistle_, but he overdid it, leaving the yacht without sufficient lateral plane for successful windward work. _Jullanar’s_ dimensions follow: Length over all, 110 feet 6 inches; depth of hold, 12 feet; length on load water-line, 99 feet; extreme beam, 16 feet 10 inches; draught forward, 1 foot 6 inches; draught aft, 13 feet 6 inches.

[Illustration:

“NIAGARA’S” MIDSHIP SECTION. ]

_Evolution_ was launched in 1880. She was built to sail in the ten-ton class, and was the first yacht of which I can find any record to carry a bulb of lead on the keel. The transition to the Herreshoff fin-keel was natural and easy.

The first yacht to be fitted with a weighted centerboard was _Rocket_, whose sheer-plan and mid-section are on p. 112.

[Illustration:

“RORQUAL,” TWO AND ONE-HALF RATER, 1894. ]

_Niagara_, a most successful yacht of the bulb-fin type, was designed by Mr. Nat Herreshoff for Mr. Howard Gould in 1895. She made a splendid record that year in British waters. She was sailed by Captain John Barr, who was skipper of _Thistle_ when _Volunteer_ beat her in 1887.

[Illustration:

“DAD.” ]

[Illustration:

“VESPER.” ]

_Jubilee_, a fin-keel, with lead bulb and two centerboards, was designed by General Paine for a possible Cup defender in 1893. She was 122 feet over all, 84 feet 6 inches on the water-line, 22 feet 6 inches extreme beam, and had a draught of 13 feet 9 inches. She competed in the trial races of 1893 against _Vigilant_, _Colonia_ and _Pilgrim_, and was unsuccessful.

Fin-keels of the freak variety were produced in large quantities on both sides of the Atlantic, following each other in quick succession. Two of English design are shown in the illustrations. One is the _Rorqual_, the other the _Nameless_. Neither proved successful.

The last five years have been remarkable for the prolific production of “freaks” and monstrosities, three of which I show, the _Skate_, _Vesper_ and _Dad_, all racing machines. In marked contrast to these abortions is the Seawanhaka knockabout _Kewaydin_, a wholesome type of boat with many good qualities to recommend it. I advise all my readers to fight shy of “freaks,” especially those of flimsy construction.

As a matter of history it may be mentioned that the centerboard schooner _Vesta_, in the midwinter ocean race of 1866, and the centerboard schooner _Iroquois_, in the blizzard of March, 1888, both acquitted themselves admirably, much to the surprise of the prejudiced devotees of the keel type.

[Illustration:

MONSTROSITY “SKATE.” ]

The double-hull type of craft came prominently before the yachting fraternity in 1898, and will doubtless be exploited in many ingenious ways hereafter. The development of a type of vessel whose origin is lost in the mist of antiquity into a racing machine like the twenty-footer _Dominion_ attracted the attention of naval architects generally to Mr. Herrick Duggan, the Canadian yacht designer, who for three consecutive years has humbled the pride of the Seawanhaka Corinthian Yacht Club by keeping in Kanuck hands the cherished international challenge cup, won with singular ease off Oyster Bay in 1896.

[Illustration:

FIG. I. THE “DOMINION,” ON EVEN KEEL. ]

[Illustration:

FIG. II. THE “DOMINION,” HEELED. ]

Mr. Duggan, of course, did not pretend to be the originator of a new type of sailing craft, but he may safely lay claim to whatever laurels are due to the faculty of astute adaptation. He succeeded in a field where others tried and failed. He skillfully modified the principle of the Malay proa, and introduced its salient characteristics into a vessel small indeed in the matter of dimensions, but huge when its inherent scientific possibilities are considered. Since Nat Herreshoff made practicable the crude fin-keel of former designers, no such interesting phase of marine architecture has been evolved.

As a matter of historical fact, it remained for Mr. Duggan to revive interest in the type, and this he did most effectually by the production of _Dominion_. The craft has given rise to much discussion among yachtsmen and in the press, both at home and abroad. The point of sailing in which _Dominion_ excels is close-hauled on a wind or with the wind abeam. It is then that she sails on her lee hull only, the weather hull serving the same purpose as the ballast of a “sand bagger,” enabling her to carry a good press of sail. This is shown by Figure II., which portrays her when heeled. With the wind dead aft and both hulls immersed, _Dominion_ in the races at Dorval was slightly slower than her rival, her paramount advantage being gained when sailing with one hull immersed.

_Dominion’s_ dimensions are: Length over all, 35 feet 10 inches; on load water-line, 17 feet 6 inches; extreme beam, 7 feet 7½ inches; beam, load water-line one bilge, 2 feet 5½ inches; draught of hull, 10 inches; draught with board, 6 feet; freeboard, 1 foot; displacement, 1,750 lbs.; area midship section, total 2.88 square feet; sail area, 500 square feet.

[Illustration:

“DOMINION.” ]

I remember how fascinated I was as a boy by the perusal of “Lord Anson’s Voyage Round the World,” telling how that famous English navigator, in his stout ship _Centurion_, doubled Cape Horn in 1740, visited the romantic isle of Juan Fernandez, and enriched himself and his accompanying bold sea-dogs by the capture of a Spanish galleon literally laden with treasure. Incidentally, the book describes the surprise experienced by the ship’s company at the first sight of the proa, as used by the natives of the Ladrones. In a copy of the first edition of the work, in my father’s library, was a quaint illustration of the proa under sail, with a plan drawn to scale, from which I made a crude model, and sailed her on an arm of the sea that washed the beach not fifty yards from our front door. I was not slow to recognize the advantage of the type in windward work. It was my good fortune in the year 1870, from the deck of the East Indiaman _Hurkaru_, bound to Madras, to obtain my first view of the Singhalese type of flying proa off the coast of Ceylon. The sight was novel and picturesque, and, being young and impressionable in those days, it was photographed indelibly on my mind.

The southwest monsoon was blowing briskly and the _Hurkaru_ was bowling along with stunsails set at a nine-knot gait. It was my forenoon watch below, and I was suddenly awakened by a shipmate who invited me on deck to look at the “queerest craft I ever saw.” Turning out in a hurry I followed him, and from the topgallant forecastle saw the proa in the act of shooting across our bows. The breeze piped at a “three-man power,” for that number of lithe and swarthy lascars straddled the outrigger to windward, hanging on by their eyelids, after the manner of mariners the seas over. The sail that propelled this craft was of the sprit variety, but was made of cotton stuff and not of matting, as was the sail described in “Anson’s Voyage.” She darted past us, with rare velocity, throwing the spray over her crew in fine style. There were six or seven of them in the main hull of the proa, the helmsman steering with a rather long paddle. After she had cleared the ship’s bows she luffed up sharp and seemed to point almost in the wind’s eye, the sail sitting quite flat, unlike the sails of the ordinary “country wallah,” which are, as a rule, of the baggy kind. I judged her speed at about sixteen knots—certainly not less. The mast and sprit of her sail were of bamboo, the rigging of kyar. Subsequently I had several opportunities of inspecting these proas, and subjecting them to a close examination—notably at Pointe de Galle, where the _Hurkaru_ touched to take in cargo on her homeward voyage.

[Illustration:

THE DOUBLE-HULLER OF THE PACIFIC. ]

The main portion of the hull proper consists of a trunk of a tree hollowed out and hewn into symmetrical shape, bow and stern both being pointed. The bilge of the weather side is neatly rounded, while the lee side is as flat as the side of a half model of a vessel that is nailed to a board. Cut a double-end boat in two longitudinally, take one of the sections and nail on planks so as to form a wall-like side, and you have a fair imitation of the principle of the main hull of the Singhalese proa. To this trunk, when hewn into shape, are fastened the topsides, which consist of planks of suitable length and thickness bound with lashings of kyar rope, the seams being calked with cocoanut fibre, which swells when water-soaked. Not a nail is used in the construction of the craft, it resembling in this detail the famous Masoolah boats of the Madras coast. In all its essentials the characteristics of the proa of the Ladrones described by Anson are reproduced. The cigar-shaped log, which is connected to the main hull by bamboo outriggers (which give the necessary elasticity) and kyar lashings, is hewn out of a solid and rather heavy tree. This gives the required stability, and in a strong breeze pretty nearly all hands “hike out” to windward on it, leaving only the helmsmen (one at each end) aboard the main ship. It need not be said that the Singhalese are as nearly amphibious as it is possible for human bipeds to be.