Boat sailing in fair weather and foul

All of us remember the old sailor's retort to the man who reproached him for soaking his clay in bad rum. "There ain't such a thing under heaven as bad rum," he sagely remarked. "Of course some rum is better than another, but I have been knocking about the world for more than fifty years and never did I drink a glass of rum that deserved to be called bad, and I got outside of some pretty fiery tipple in my time."

The same is true in a general way of boats. There are many types of boat and each has some peculiar attribute to recommend it. No two craft, for instance, could be more widely different in every way than a Gloucester fishing dory and a Cape Cod cat-boat, yet each when properly handled has safely ridden out an Atlantic gale. Of course if their movements had been directed by farm hands both would have foundered. In point of fact, there is no royal road to the acquisition of seamanship. Experience is what is needed first, last and all the time. It is true, however, that the rough sea over which the learner has necessarily to sail may be smoothed for him, even as the breakers on a harbor bar are rendered passable for a homeward-bound craft by the judicious application of a little oil.

The choice of a boat depends upon a vast variety of circumstances, the chief of which is the location of the prospective boat owner. If he lives on the Great South Bay, for example, he should provide himself with a craft of light draught, almost capable of sailing on a clover field after a heavy fall of dew. Equipped with a centerboard and a sail a boat of this kind, if of the right shape and construction, will be found comfortable, safe and of moderate speed. A man may also enjoy an infinite amount of pleasure aboard her, after he has mastered the secret of her management. There are so many sandbars in the Great South Bay that a boat of light draught is indispensable to successful sailing. The same remark applies also to Barnegat Bay and adjacent New Jersey waters. There are some persons who believe that it is impossible to combine light draught and safety. They make a great mistake. A twelve-foot sneakbox in Barnegat Bay, with the right man steering, will live for a long time in rough water that would sorely try the capacity of a much larger craft in the hands of a lubber. The same is true of a sharpie.

The man who makes up his mind that he wants a sailing boat should study well the geography of his vicinity. If he lives in New York or on the Sound his course is easy. He is sure to be within reach of a yacht or boat club from whose members he can get all the information he needs. They will tell him the boat best adapted to his requirements and his finances, and if they persuade him to join their organization they will be conferring upon him a favor. I have traveled a good deal among the yacht clubs of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut, and I never came across a more generous, more obliging and more sportsmanlike body of men than those enrolled on the rosters of these enterprising associations. They are convinced that there is more real pleasure to the square inch in the possession of a stout boat capable of being managed by a couple of men, than there is in the proprietorship of a big yacht that carries a crew of twenty and whose owner probably knows nothing about the art of sailing her, but depends all the time on his skipper. It is a pleasure to meet these men and listen to their yarns. The earnestness, the zeal and the ability with which they pursue their favorite pastime are indeed commendable. And the best of it is they are always ready to welcome recruits, and to pass them through the rudimentary mill of seamanship and navigation, their motto being "Every man his own skipper." The only requisite necessary to membership in one or more of these clubs is that you should be a "clubable" man with manly instincts. Young fellows, too, are eagerly sought, so you need have no compunction about seeking their doors, the latchstrings of which are always down.

By all means join a club, I say. You get all the advantages of the house and the anchorage, and all the benefits that accrue to association with men who are ardent and enthusiastic in the enjoyment of their pet diversion. Besides—let me whisper a word in your ear, my brother, you of the slender purse or may be economic instincts—it will be cheaper for you in the end; it will put money in your purse. Your boat will be looked after all the year round by watchful guardians, who will see that it isn't stripped or rifled by river pirates, and that the elements do not mar its beauty. I confess I was surprised when I learned how little it costs to become entitled to all the privileges of these clubs, and it is owing to their moderate charges that the "mosquito fleet" in the vicinity of New York is growing so big and interest in the sport is increasing so rapidly.

What I have written of New York is true, perhaps, in a greater measure of Boston. There is no finer sheet of water for boat sailing than Boston Bay, and no people in the world are more devoted to the sport than those who dwell in the city of culture and its sea-washed environs. There are plenty of yacht clubs between Point Allerton, on the south, and Marblehead, on the north. It has been ascertained that more than five thousand members have joined these organizations and that nineteen hundred yachts are enrolled on their lists, most of the craft being less than twenty feet on the water line. It will thus be seen that Boston fully appreciates the value of small sailing craft as a means of amusement and healthful recreation. The port from which Volunteer, Mayflower and Puritan originally hailed, though justly proud of those three magnificent racing yachts, has always been distinguished for turning out stout, able and seaworthy vessels of the smaller type, and also for breeding a sturdy race of men who know every trick of seamanship. The majority of the boats are so constructed and rigged as to ensure that they will render a good account of themselves in a blow and a seaway. Thus the "sandbagger" type of vessel is rarely found "down east," and this, in my opinion, need not be regretted.

The catrigged boat, with stationary ballast and a centerboard, may be said to be the type generally preferred in those waters. The Newport cat-boat is famous the world over for her handiness, speed and ability. I know that it is fashionable for scientific men and swell naval architects to decry the seaworthiness of these boats. It has been urged that the weight of the mast in the eyes of the craft is a serious objection, a strain on the hull, and not unlikely to be carried away for want of proper staying. The long boom also has been objected to, because of its liability to trip. The craft has been declared difficult to steer and a regular "yawer." But while saying unkind things of the cat-boat's behavior in a blow, no critic, however biased, has ventured to deny her general handiness.

I might remind these gentlemen that the owner of a pleasure boat does not as a rule sail her in a blow or in a seaway, but this would not be a fair or legitimate argument. The elements are treacherous. A summer storm often plays havoc among the shipping, and a man who ventures seaward in the morning in a balmy breeze and with the water smooth as a horsepond may be caught in a savage blow, followed by a heavy sea, both of which may sorely try the capabilities of his craft and his own resources as a seaman.

I am such a devout believer, however, in a cat-boat of proper form and rig, that I will defend her as a good and handy craft in both fair weather and foul. It blows hard in Narragansett Bay sometimes, and I have often known a devil of a sea to be kicked up off Brenton's Reef lightship. But the Newport cat-boat, with a couple of reefs down, comes out of the harbor and dances over the steep waves like a duck or a cork. I never saw one of them come to grief, and in fact they have always impressed me as being the handiest all-round boat afloat. I have sailed in them in all sorts of weather, and I am not likely to alter my opinion. Many of the objections raised against them are idle. For instance, the mast can be so stayed as to be perfectly secure. There is also no reason why the boom should project so far over the stern as to trip, and in this connection I should like to ask of what use is a topping lift unless one avails himself of it in just such an emergency? A man should always keep the boom well topped up when running before the wind in a seaway, and by this means he may avoid much trouble and possibly peril.

The above remarks are applicable to both salt water and fresh water, to the yachts of the North, the South, as well as of the Great and Little Lakes, and indeed wherever the glorious sport flourishes. In point of fact, all the hints and directions given in these chapters may be followed with profit on the Pacific Coast as well as on the Atlantic Seaboard, on Lake Michigan or on the Gulf of St. Lawrence.