IV.
FITTING OUT AND TUNING UP. HINTS AS TO GOING INTO COMMISSION AND MAKING THE CRAFT FIT FOR A RACE.
We will now assume that, either by buying or building, the amateur yachtsman has come into possession of a craft which he intends to race this season. If he has had the vessel built to his order, the designer will have seen that she complies with the specifications, which, of course, include all gear necessary for her mug-hunting efforts. If he has purchased a second-hand vessel, after having her surveyed by a competent naval architect it might be well to learn from him what repairs, if any, are needed to her hull or rigging. The next thing to do is to obtain estimates for making the repairs; and unless the yachtsman is an old hand at the business, and knows approximately what should be the cost of such work, I should advise him to obtain figures from two or more concerns if extensive work is called for.
It is unbusinesslike and unsatisfactory to order a master shipwright to haul a yacht out and make such alterations and repairs as he may deem requisite, but examples of such fatuousness have been known and have afforded much profit to lawyers and much unhappiness to clients on both sides. A shipwright may have views of his own about a racing yacht, and it is inadvisable to give _carte blanche_ to any builder of ships, or even of houses.
In these days of progress in yacht naval architecture, to the man of sentiment there will always be one source of regret. The owner of a successful yacht that has gallantly won scores of well-contested races and has proudly flaunted a superb string of racing flags at the close of her second season, cannot help having an affection for his vessel, especially if she was designed and built to his order. To think that after a few short seasons she has become outclassed—a regular back number—naturally awakens many sad reflections.
Old-timers remember that racing craft, when their cup-winning days were over, were converted into comfortable cruising craft, fishing-boats, or pilot cutters. Nowadays such a transition is impossible. In many cases an expensive fin-keel is outclassed in a single season, and I have yet to learn what use she can be put to when her career after cups comes to an inglorious finish. Her lead, metal bolts, spars, sails and rigging may fetch a fraction of their first cost in a junk-shop; but few yachtsmen would care to buy a vessel of the kind indicated for cruising or fishing purposes, not only because of the lack of accommodation, but also on account of the unhandiness of the fixed fin, whose vicious qualities can never be fully appreciated until one happens to get stuck in the mud or sand with the tide fast ebbing and no tug in sight or any other means of hauling off into deep water available.
In the good old days of yacht racing it was customary to lengthen, “hip out,” rebuild and otherwise alter a boat that showed signs of having outlived her usefulness, and in a rejuvenated condition bring her to the line again and with her achieve new conquests. Such a method is rarely resorted to nowadays. In fact, it is doubtful whether it would pay. Mr. J. Rogers Maxwell, who owned the schooner _Emerald_, is one of the few yachtsmen in this country who, of late years, have made extensive alterations in large racing vessels with any degree of success. He practically rebuilt the sloop _Shamrock_, and greatly improved her speed, and has twice made radical changes in the _Emerald_ at great expense, both processes making her slightly faster.
[Illustration:
SLOOP “GRACIE.” ]
[Illustration:
SCHOONER “SAPPHO.” ]
[Illustration:
CUTTER “GENESTA.” ]
Among the many yachts which were altered often and extensively may be mentioned the famous sloop _Gracie_, designed and built at Nyack-on-the-Hudson, by A. Polhemus. She was launched in July, 1868, her dimensions being 60 feet 3 inches over all, 58 feet on the water-line, 18 feet 8 inches beam, 5 feet 6 inches depth of hold, and 5 feet draught. Her center board was lengthened 2 feet aft in 1869. She was altered in 1874, and when completed measured as follows: length over all, 72 feet 9 inches; on water-line 62 feet; beam, 20 feet 6 inches; depth of hold, 6 feet 6 inches; draught 5 feet 8 inches. In 1879 she was rebuilt by David Carll, at City Island, her length over all being 79 feet 10 inches, on water-line 72 feet 2 inches; beam, 21 feet 6 inches; depth of hold, 7 feet 2 inches, and draught, 6 feet 6 inches. In 1886 she was given 12 inches more freeboard. She sailed in the trial races against _Bedouin_, _Puritan_, and _Priscilla_, for the honor of defending the _America’s_ cup against _Genesta_, but that task was given to _Puritan_.
The keel cutter _Colonia_, built by Herreshoff as a cup defender to sail against _Valkyrie II._, proved less fast than _Vigilant_. Her fault was a deficiency of lateral plane, which made her sag off bodily to leeward in a most discouraging manner. After serving as a drill ship for the crew of the _Defender_ in 1895, she was purchased by Commodore Clarence A. Postley, fitted with a centerboard from a plan by Cary Smith, at Lewis Nixon’s shipyard, and rigged as a schooner. She is now (1899) the crack American “two-sticker.”
Old-timers will recollect how slow the schooner _Sappho_ was until Capt. “Bob” Fish hit upon the bold expedient of “hipping her out,” which was done by swelling out her midship section about fourteen inches, and tapering it off to nothing about thirty feet each way. The result was that _Sappho_, theretofore so sluggish that she could scarcely get out of her own way, beat nearly every craft bold enough to encounter her, and won many cups and much kudos for her sportsmanlike owner, Mr. William P. Douglas. Mr. A. Cass Canfield altered the sloop _Priscilla_ considerably, but it cannot be said that he was altogether successful. When _Volunteer_ was transformed into a schooner her forebody was reconstructed, and she made an enviable record as a “two-sticker;” but when rerigged as a sloop she never showed an approach to her original splendid form, as I think most yachtsmen will frankly concede.
[Illustration:
SCHOONER “COLONIA.” ]
Our British cousins used to have a perfect craze for rebuilding famous yachts, the old crack cutters _Alarm_ and _Arrow_—both celebrated prize-winners—being notable examples of this ruling passion. But both here and in England the custom of materially altering the form of a yacht’s hull in the hope of improving her speed may be said to have gone completely out of fashion. This is doubtless due to the radical and rapid changes in hulls, brought about by the frequently shifting rules of measurement for time allowance and the artfully ingenious methods of generations of yacht designers to get the better of those selfsame rules.
I only mention these just to give a practical illustration of the way the old-timers used to alter and rebuild their beloved boats. The custom is now obsolete. If a racing machine of the present day is not outclassed in her third season she is looked upon as quite a smart craft. It may thus be perceived that conditions have altered considerably during the last decade.
On general principles it is unwise to go in for very extensive alterations on a yacht of any kind, whether cruiser or racer. If, however, you are determined to go ahead, I advise you to be sure to have an iron-clad contract as to cost.
[Illustration:
Rig of Cutter showing Masthead Shroud. ]
While your boat is being repaired or altered, ship your sailing-master, scrutinizing his references as to ability and character with care, and if possible supplement this examination by an interview with his last employer before engaging him.
Of course, much depends upon the size of your craft and the depth of your pocket. A Hank Haff or a Charley Barr would be too expensive a luxury for a craft of modest dimensions, and a boat-owner in matters of this kind must depend much upon his own judgment; it is impossible to give him advice except in the most general way.
The work of fitting out a racing yacht preparatory to tuning up for the season’s sport is exceptionally interesting to the real amateur, but the owner who has no true regard for yachting generally finds the process somewhat of a bore. In “Boat Sailing, Fair Weather and Foul,” a companion volume to this book, there is a chapter on “The Overhauling of a Yacht,” which contains a useful wrinkle or two, of which the reader may avail himself if he feels so disposed. The same is true of the chapter on “Laying up for the Winter,” which is indorsed by naval architects and practical seamen.
It is customary with some builders to have a sail-loft annex to the shipyard, and these men are, in most cases, anxious to contract for the sails as well as for the hull of a boat. I should not advise any yacht owner who contemplates racing his craft to employ anyone but the most skilful manipulator of duck to make his sails, which are of as much consequence as the hull itself so far as the winning of cups and prizes is concerned.
The man of fashion, ambitious of being well attired, so as to shine socially, doesn’t go to Baxter street for a dress suit. Neither does a yachtsman patronize a tentmaker for a racing mainsail or a well-cut jib. There is no objection to the shipbuilder contracting for the sails if he desires to make a little extra money, but the yacht owner should take care that the name of the sailmaker appears in the contract, and this will be a sufficient guarantee for first-class work. There are many firms in the United States justly famous as yacht sailmakers, and these are of such high standing that their names marked on the sails supplied insures the best in the way of cut and the quality of material. It is a great mistake to exercise any cheeseparing economy on a yacht’s means of propulsion, whether it be steam or duck. The best in the market, whether it be machinery or sails, is none too good.
A cruising craft with a slovenly or slatternly owner may, perhaps, be content with a suit of sails that fits like a purser’s shirt on a handspike, with a mainsail all abag and head-sails that would disgrace a coal barge; but even a cruising craft may be caught on a lee shore with a gale of wind, and perhaps the owner will curse his fatuous economy when he has tried in vain to claw off the beach with his baggy sails and finds that his craft is crunching to pieces in the surf and he himself is struggling for life in the treacherous undertow.
The cost of racing sails is high, and, ordinarily, a yacht that goes the cup-hunting circuit needs a new mainsail every season. Under careful management, however, a mainsail, with good luck, has been known to do good service for two summers. The quality of cotton duck has improved appreciably of late, owing to a better method of manufacture, and sails “sit” better and do not “bag” as they used to. Cotton is king, so far as racing sails go, in Europe as well as America, flax having been entirely superseded by it. The change from flax to cotton began in England about 1893.
The rig of a racing yacht should be no more neglected than her sails. The spars should be hollow on 20-footers and all in excess of that class. The standing rigging should be of silver-steel wire, set up by turnbuckles. The blocks should be strong and light, and the running rigging of the best quality. There should not be a superfluous ounce of weight in the craft alow or aloft if the winning of cups is what the owner has in view.
Rigging screws or turnbuckles, which have superseded deadeyes and lanyards for the setting up of standing rigging, were first used in 1877 on the English cutter _Verve_. They are used now on all racing yachts.
In the old days of reefing bowsprits it was quite a usual event to carry away several bobstays during the season. The long overhang forward of the modern yacht has reduced the length of the bowsprit, and consequently the strain on the spar when pitching into a heavy head sea. The overhang also gives better facilities for handling the head-sails.
Flexible silver-steel wire rope is now used for running rigging in many yachts, notably for runners and runner tackles, and also for peak and throat halyards.
The best spars for large yachts are made of Oregon fir. This splendid wood is the best in the world for the purpose. Some spars have been known to measure nearly 40 inches in diameter, and some 172 feet long; the average length of spars shipped to Atlantic ports from the Pacific coast is 90 feet, and the diameter 22 to 23 inches. Oregon fir is stronger than spruce or white pine, and hence less diameter is required for the same height. Spruce is in general use for the spars of smaller craft. Steel booms for racing yachts were first used on _Defender_ and _Valkyrie III._
The greatest improvements in the rigging of yachts of recent years have been the masthead shrouds, bridles on gaffs, and the comparatively new throat-halyard pennants. In a spanking breeze there is a great strain on the masthead, also much play, but by the adoption of the three devices mentioned the strains are both minimized and equalized. Large vessels carry double masthead shrouds, and smaller craft single ones. _Vigilant_ was, I believe, the first American yacht to be fitted with them. Now they are carried by every craft of consequence. Gaff bridles and throat-halyard pennants are indispensable to the rigging of every racing yacht from the smallest cat to the largest schooner.
If your craft is large enough to spread two shrouds on each side, have them fitted in pairs. A bight and a good seizing are preferable to two single eyes.
The bowsprit-shroud outriggers or spreaders should be bolted fast to the ship without any hinged joint. This prevents any unnecessary play when the boat plunges bows under in a heavy head sea. There should be the same length of shroud between the spreader and the bowsprit end, and the spreader and the turnbuckle which sets them up. The strain is thus divided equally and advantageously. The bobstay spreader or dolphin-striker should always have a hinged joint.
The rigging of _Uncas_ is fitted as follows: Bobstay, 2½-inch steel wire; forestay, 2-inch do.; jibstay, 1¼-inch do.; bowsprit shrouds, 1½-inch do.; standing rigging, 1¼-inch do.; masthead shroud, 1⅜-inch do.; topmast gear, all 1-inch do.; runner shrouds, 1¼-inch do.; spring stay, 1½-inch do.; main lifts, 1½-inch flexible 19-thread steel wire; gaff bridles, 1¼-inch do.; peak and throat halyards, 2¼-inch manila bolt-rope; main sheet, 2-inch do.; fore sheet, 1¾-inch do.; head-sheets and minor gear in proportion.
The _Vigil_, of similar design, is rigged precisely the same, with the exception that her main peak and throat halyards are of 1-inch flexible steel wire, the fore peak and throat halyards of ⅝-inch do.; club-topsail halyards, ⅝-inch do.
Lengths of manila are so spliced to these flexible wire halyards that when they are belayed the splice is about six feet above the deck. This flexible steel answers remarkably well. When once set up, it stays set up. There is no “give” to it, and thus frequent “swaying on it,” as is the case with hemp rope, is quite unnecessary.
[Illustration:
RIG AND SAIL PLAN OF “UNCAS.” ]
A modern 25-foot-water-line single-sticker with a pole mast, is rigged as follows: Bobstay, rod of steel ¾-inch in diameter, set up with a turnbuckle at end of bowsprit; shrouds, two on each side, 1⅛-inch steel wire; forestay set up to stem head, 1¼-inch do.; jib set flying, hoisted with ¾-inch 8-stranded flexible steel halyards, set up with a jig-purchase; runner shrouds of ⅝-inch steel wire canvased over; main lifts, ¾-inch flexible steel wire, painted, parceled, served over with white cod-line, and then covered with white canvas sewed on; the throat and peak halyards are of ¾-inch flexible steel wire. The blocks are all strapped with grommets of flexible steel wire, served and leathered.
From these examples a fair idea of the modern method of rigging a racing craft may be gathered. Strength, lightness, and neatness are the qualities sought and attained. Steel wire is now largely used for the leech ropes of sails, and it is strongly recommended by our “swellest” sailmakers.
The above I owe to my old seafaring friend, John F. Byno, who put the neatest splice ever seen in the Brooklyn Bridge cable, and is an expert with the marlinspike, as all the members of the Seawanhaka Corinthian Yacht Club can bear witness.
[Illustration:
No. 1. Side view of main masthead.
No. 2. Back view of main masthead.
MASTHEADS OF “UNCAS.” ]
[Illustration:
No. 3. Side view of fore masthead.
No. 4. Back view of fore masthead.
MASTHEADS OF “UNCAS.” ]
Flexible steel wire rope is nearly if not quite as pliable as new hemp rope of the same strength. It is made with nineteen wires to the strand. The greater the diameter of the sheaves over which it passes, the longer it will last. The manufacturers recommend as a preservative a mixture of linseed oil and pine tar. It is impossible to belay wire rope to a cleat, as it will surely “render” or slip. Manila rope is therefore spliced to the hauling end of the wire, which makes it pleasanter to haul on, and insures its remaining fast after it is once belayed. I would not counsel a lubber to try to splice wire and rope together, unless in the privacy of a separate room. Why? Because the bystanders would be sure to laugh. It takes an artist to make this most difficult splice.
Grommet straps for blocks made of flexible steel wire cannot be surpassed. After making the grommet, paint well with raw linseed oil and white lead; parcel with canvas, serve with marline, apply another coat of paint, and then cover with leather or canvas sewn on. For neatness, strength, and durability this method is superior to any other. But it requires an expert to do the work.
With regard to turnbuckles for setting up all kinds of standing rigging, it must be conceded that they are indispensable for racing craft both large and small. One advantage of deadeye and lanyard for deep-water cruising is that if it should be necessary to cut away the mast to save the ship when hove on her beam ends, a cut with an axe will sever the weather lanyards and away goes the mast. The turnbuckle cannot be cut. A combination of turnbuckle, and deadeye and lanyard, might be fitted so as to combine the advantages of both.
[Illustration:
CUTTER “MINERVA.” ]
The bulwarks of racing yachts have been reduced in height to mere battens. All deck fittings have been lightened as much as the designers dared. All with the intention of reducing weight, ironwork on spars looks very frail when compared with that of a decade ago, and the weight of blocks has been diminished in some cases more than fifty per cent.
The abolition of all cabin fittings first took place in the Marquis of Ailsa’s _Bloodhound_, built in 1874. All she had in her cabin was a seat along each side.
It is only comparatively recently that yacht designers have made serious efforts to reduce weight aloft. Sometimes they have gone too far. I remember a 40-foot cutter, built to sail against the Scotch cutter _Minerva_. She was dismasted in a puff on the occasion of her first race, which was also her maiden sail. The same mishap befell her later on in a fine sailing breeze off Newport. I was on the committee boat which towed her into port. If she hadn’t been well handled after being disabled some serious accident might have happened to her hull. The accident was ascribed to defective ironwork.
It is of no benefit to stay the masts of pleasure vessels with rigging heavy enough for a great brig. A sense of proportion should be observed. Scientific men have calculated and tabulated the stress and strain that wood, metal, wire and hempen rope will bear, and these tables may be consulted by anybody able to read.
It is a fact that piano wire plays a leading part in the rigging of some of the down-to-date little racing freaks one meets nowadays, especially in fresh water where it is less exposed to corrosion. It is highly spoken of by those who have used it. Better, however, not to go to extremes and always to beware of a spider-web rig. Like flimsy construction it causes a yacht to come to grief.
[Illustration:
SAIL PLAN OF “ETHELWYNN.” ]
A good example of lightness of rig was the 15-footer _Ethelwynn_, designed by Mr. W. P. Stephens, to defend the International Challenge Cup of the Seawanhaka Corinthian Yacht Club. It will be remembered that she beat Mr. Brand’s _Spruce IV._, which boat was quite heavily rigged when compared with the American craft. The mast was a hollow spar of 4¼ inches, a far too heavy stick, as experience proved, for one of 3 inches and about half the weight would have been sufficiently strong. The hollow boom was 2¾ inches diameter in the slings. The rigging was of phosphor-bronze wire rope, the forestay being ³⁄₃₂-inch diameter, shrouds ³⁄₁₆-inch diameter, and runners ⅛-inch. Main and jib halyards were of the same material, ⅛-inch diameter. The main-halyard ran over a 2-inch sheave in the masthead, a single part with a whip-tackle at the deck. The jib-halyard was double with a jig. The running rigging was of imported English cord. She carried 198 square feet of duck.
[Illustration:
HALF RATER “SPRUCE IV.” ]
[Illustration:
FIFTEEN-FOOTER “ETHELWYNN.” ]
I am indebted to Mr. Stephens for the description and the accompanying sail plan.
J. M. James, Vice-Commodore of the Imperial Model Yacht Club, of Tokio, Japan, is enthusiastic in praise of lacquer as a coating for the outside skin of yachts. He says that all the club’s models have their topsides and bottoms lacquered; and after numerous experiments for testing those thus treated against painted craft an increase of speed, amounting to ten per cent., was found in favor of the lacquered ones. A model yacht once well lacquered, with care and barring accidents, will last a lifetime and retain its luster. He says that all the Japanese naval ships have their bottoms lacquered. The lacquer gives increased speed and almost prevents fouling, and if properly put on lasts for three years. The only drawback is that the process is very expensive.
Here is an opportunity for some enterprising individual to experiment with lacquer. If he proves successful he will gain the gratitude of yachtsmen. Incidentally, he will also win a large pecuniary reward.
In the matter of a compass the racing yachtsman should be careful. In thick weather, when steering for a mark, it is necessary that the deviation for every point should be known. In wooden yachts there is no difficulty, if ordinary precautions are taken, in keeping compasses exact. In iron and steel yachts they have to be licked into shape by a professional adjuster of reputation.
In spite of opinions to the contrary, held by old salts, the compass is not affected by fog, thunder, or attraction of land. It should be remembered, however, that magnetism exerts its magical influence through all bodies, no matter how dense, while light, heat and electricity do not possess this wonderful property.
Thus, casing an iron bulkhead with wood or covering an iron stanchion with copper or canvas will not prevent the metal from affecting the compass. It may be thought superfluous to assert such a well-known scientific fact in this year of the world, but experience teaches me that there is still much to be learned by those who go down to the sea in yachts.
It is not generally known that no iron vessel has been struck by lightning. The wooden spars have been shattered frequently by the electric fluid, but, owing to the circumstance that water is a better conductor than iron, the hull of an iron vessel has never suffered. If the spars of an iron ship are made of iron, the vessel may be looked upon as immune from disaster by lightning.
As soon as your craft is fitted out place her in commission, and proceed to become acquainted with her. Prizes are won only by hard work, and if you intend to make a record for yourself and your craft you can attain your end by honest industry only.
Part of the sea-jockey’s stock in trade is to discover how slow a yacht may be made to go with every stitch of sail set ostensibly to the best advantage, with sheets pulling like horses and trimmed to perfection. It is only the most subtle and knowing customer that can so master a yacht as to excel in this. The most accomplished proficient I ever knew was the skipper of the Scotch ten-ton cutter _Madge_, which came over in 1881, and created a great revolution in yachting. That man could make the boat almost speak. By manipulating the sheets, slacking one or flattening in another, and by other tricks unknown to this deponent, I have seen him allow an oyster-boat to beat the crack racing cutter. The name of that canny skipper was Duncan. The Yankee captains who sailed against him are not likely to forget it.
I remember reading somewhere about a yacht skipper of experience who fooled a younger rival and caused him much unhappiness during a hotly contested race on the Solent. It was blowing a piping breeze, and _Sally_, the rival craft, had one reef in her mainsail and the topmast struck. _Bantam_, on the other hand, was the stiffer of the two, and held on to the whole mainsail, but also dowsed topmast. _Sally_ had passed _Bantam_, and was leading her some fifty yards. Both yachts were at that time sheltered by the land, but a few hundred yards ahead a big sea was running in the West Channel.
It was at this moment that the sly old sea-dog played his low-down trick on the green young skipper, who was watching his every action.
“Up with the topmast, lads!” yelled Captain Sly of the _Bantam_.
His crew made a great pretense of swaying away on the heel rope, but somehow or other it got jammed and stayed jammed, in spite of the apparent efforts made to clear it.
Captain Green thought he would be smart. He sent up his topmast in seamanlike style. The topsail was set just as the _Sally_ encountered the heavy sea in the channel. She made one dive and buried herself up to the skylight. The pressure was too much for her. In an instant _Bantam’s_ topmast was housed, and all the gear fast again, and while _Sally_ was pitching and ’scending in the choppy sea _Bantam_ crawled through her lee and beat her. Captain Green was so demoralized by the trick of which he was the victim that he did not regain his self-possession until it was too late.
Captain Sly was convinced that Captain Green would imitate him in everything, and the result proved that he had formed a correct estimate of his opponent.
It is not wise or politic to undervalue the sailing qualities of an opposing yacht, especially when she is practically an unknown quantity. In other words, don’t prophesy unless you know. Here is a case in point:
When the _Madge_ was about due to sail her first race in these waters, the skipper of her Yankee opponent is said to have paid a visit to Sawyer, the sailmaker, and asked for the loan of some flying kites.
“Any old stuff will do,” quoth the skipper. “I’ve only got to knock out that narrow-gutted coffin anchored yonder.”
The sails were lent by Mr. Sawyer, and it is needless to say that they did _not_ fit “like paint on a post.” The “coffin” beat the “skimming dish” with singular ease.
I put this little yarn on record only just to show the contempt the average American yachtsman had at that time for the epoch-making _Madge_.
The proper balancing of sails is imperative when racing. To illustrate my meaning I need only refer to the decisive race between _Vigilant_ and _Valkyrie_ for the _America’s_ Cup, which all but resulted in the winning of the race by the British yacht. In point of fact, _Valkyrie_, had not her two spinnakers blown away, would have romped in victoriously. In the beat to the outward mark _Vigilant_ carried a reefed mainsail and a big jib, and, for the first time in her history, required lee helm. This blunder, in addition to her centerboard becoming jammed, made _Valkyrie_ beat her 1m. 55s. on the windward leg. _Valkyrie_ had a half-reef in her mainsail, but shifted her jib and set one whose center of effort was in exact accord with the reduced after-canvas. _Vigilant_ won by forty seconds only, and had it not been for the _Valkyrie’s_ hard luck would have been badly defeated.
On July 13, 1889, the _Katrina_, while racing against the _Titania_ in a reefing breeze, carrying a big jib and a reefed mainsail, suffered a like deserved defeat. Under her ill-balanced sail-spread, for the first time in her history, she, too, carried lee helm, and sagged off to leeward like a haystack adrift. She made a pitiable exhibition of herself, and all hands rejoiced when her main boom snapped off and permitted her to withdraw without disgrace. Meanwhile _Titania_, splendidly handled by Captain Haff and Mr. C. Oliver Iselin, sailed over the course and won the race.
[Illustration:
FORTY-FOOTER “GOSSOON.” ]
It is interesting to note that the mishaps to both _Katrina_ and _Vigilant_ occurred on the 13th of the month.
The jibtopsail when a yacht is close-hauled is of very little use, especially in a bit of a breeze. Some skippers set what is known as a “baby-jibtopsail” when the wind is very light. It is questionable if the sail is of any benefit at all under such circumstances. In my opinion, the sail makes the boat’s head sag off to leeward, lee helm being the result. If no such sail were made, I think it would never be missed. Of course, with the wind free the jibtopsail, from its most diminutive size to its most extreme balloon development, is a very valuable sail.
In taking note of the speed of boats the length should be considered. I remember that the 40-footer _Gossoon_, the conqueror of the Scotch cutter _Minerva_ in 1890, without any tide to help or retard her, made in a race I saw an average of nine knots an hour. This means that to accomplish this feat she had to run her length in 2¾ seconds. A little reflection will show that this is a remarkable achievement for so small a vessel.
It may be mentioned here that a nautical mile, a knot, and a geographical mile are one and the same thing. A knot equals 1.15 statute miles. Multiply the number of knots by 1.15, and you have the distance in statute miles. There are 6,080 feet in a knot; 5,280 feet in a statute mile.
Chronometers should be kept free from damp, dust, and draughts. When winding turn the key steadily, avoiding any jerky action. Most of them require seven and a half turns of the key. Wind slowly and steadily as far as the mechanism will permit. Wind punctually at the same hour every day. A chronometer that has run down, on being wound up again, will probably not start until it has been quickly but not violently slued half round and back again. This is easily done by placing the instrument on the table, and turning it horizontally between the hands. Take care that the instrument has neither too much nor too little side-play in the gimbals. A standard compass stowed away, while in port, close to a chronometer has been known to ruin the going of the watch, the powerful compass needles having by induction magnetized the steel portion of the balance. Do not stow a chronometer close to an iron bulkhead, an iron vessel’s side, the upper or lower end of a vertical iron stanchion, or within eight feet of compass compensating magnets. The chronometer case should not be screwed down to a table containing drawers which might possibly be used to hold spare compass cards. Chronometers should be kept away from iron almost as religiously as compasses.
Jolting in a railway train or a conveyance of any description is liable to alter the steady going of a chronometer. The quick jerk of a boat propelled by oars is still more likely to prove injurious. If, therefore, a chronometer has to be taken from one place to another in a pulling boat, it should be held free in the hand by the leather straps, taking care to avoid a circular motion. When traveling by train place the instrument on a pile of overcoats or rugs, in such a position that it will not fall. Marine chronometers are intended always to be kept strictly horizontal with the face up. Never allow a chronometer to run longer than four years without having it overhauled by a first-class workman. If it is a new instrument, it should be looked at after a year or eighteen months.
[Illustration:
“AMERICA,” 1899. ]