Yachting, Vol. 1

A voyage from England to the uttermost ends of the Baltic does not necessitate any really long runs for a yacht of small draught, and it is seldom that one need remain out at sea at night. It is well that it is so; for these are surely the most wind-vexed waters of Europe; violent north-westers rise in the most unexpected manner, and the stillest of summer mornings will as likely as not be succeeded by a howling wintry afternoon. It behoves the skipper of the small yacht to watch his weather very carefully in this treacherous region. Whenever a run of some distance is before him, from isle to isle, or along some portion of the coast where the havens of refuge are rare, he must patiently wait for a slant, and the advice of the aneroid in the cabin must be implicitly followed.

It is this last precaution that makes what otherwise would certainly be a dangerous cruise for a small craft an amusement less risky than are the majority of sports. It ought to be unnecessary to repeat such trite admonition as this; but in my experience it is the skipper of the small vessel who pays the least attention to his glass; and in all cases that have come under my notice when small yachts that have started to cross the North Sea or the Channel, or to make some other run of a dozen hours or so, have come to grief in any way in consequence of having encountered weather dangerously heavy for them, it is for the one reason that the skipper, possibly an excellent sailor in other respects, has neglected his aneroid. One may indeed make occasional runs in this blind fashion, trusting to the appearance of the sky alone, and yet no harm come of it; but on the sort of Baltic cruise I am describing there will, of course, be a number of such short runs; short, but quite long enough to make disaster a probability sooner or later if proper precautions be not taken, and it may be found that the pitcher has gone to the well once too often.

The life of the man who undertakes long coasting voyages in small craft depends more on his knowledge of the use of the barometer, and on his close observation of it, than it does on his good seamanship. A man I know had his dinghy carried away, and nearly lost his little yacht and his life, on a run from Ryde to Havre. The longshore wiseacres shook their heads when they heard of it, and spoke of the foolhardiness of sailing across Channel in so tiny a vessel. In this I maintain the wiseacres were wrong; the foolhardiness lay in the skipper's blinking at the heavens to windward and lee, and putting absolute faith in their deceptive appearance, while he entirely omitted to see what the glass was doing before he tripped his anchor. It is possible to practically insure for oneself fine weather, or at any rate the absence of dangerously bad weather, for a run of say a day and night, provided one have the patience to wait for it.

I cannot recall an instance of having experienced really bad weather when my reading of the barometer had told me that it would be fine; but I have seen the weather-wisdom of many an old sea-dog at fault. In the Baltic the fishermen fail signally to read the signs of their own skies, as the following incident will show. I had sailed into a fishing-haven on Zeeland called Gillelie. I found a fête in progress which had detained the fishermen who would otherwise have sailed on that day to the distant island of Anholt for the autumn herring fishery. 'But we will all be off to-morrow,' said one to me. 'I do not think any of you will sail to-morrow or the day after; it will be blowing a gale of wind from the north-west,' I remarked, for my glass had been falling in most ominous fashion for some days. But my friends thought they knew better. 'You are a stranger here,' said they; 'we fishing-folk know the signs of the sky in our country. The wind is south-west, and it will remain fine. The barometer is not to be trusted in the Baltic.' Well, at midnight the wind had shifted to north-west, and was howling through the bending pines; by dawn the gale had burst upon us, for two days it blew a very hurricane, and there was much loss of life and shipping on the Cattegat. Had it not been for the fête the fishermen would have put to sea, and few would ever have been seen again. I converted the fishermen of Gillelie to a belief in the barometer, and I believe that they forthwith applied to the Danish Government for one of those glasses which it supplies to seaports for the public use.

Having given my reasons for recommending a small vessel of light draught for Baltic cruising, I will now explain what I consider that vessel should be like. I am about to preach rank heresy, but I should certainly act up to my preaching were I ever again to make preparations for a similar voyage.

The craft that last carried me about those seas was an old teak P. & O. lifeboat, 29 feet in length, which had been decked, rigged as a ketch, provided with six inches of false keel, and so converted into a yacht of three tons register. A boat something like this one appears to me to be the best adapted for the purpose in question—a boat with pointed stern and considerable sheer, such as my lifeboat was, and such, too, as are the herring fishing boats of the Cattegat. Her beam should be about one-quarter of her length, her draught should not exceed 2 ft. 6 in., and she should have less ballast by a good deal than is generally put into a boat of her tonnage; for she must be comfortable when in rough water, be light and lively, and leap over the steep seas of the Baltic instead of driving herself through them.

My old lifeboat was the best sea-boat of her size I have ever come across. Once I was caught with her in a north-wester in the Gulf of Heligoland, and had to run to Cuxhaven before a really heavy sea. That little boat acquitted herself in a way that astonished us; presenting as she did a sharp stern to the steep following seas, she showed no tendency to broach to, but steered with beautiful ease, rising like a duck to every roller. Why more of our little cruisers are not constructed with these lifeboat sterns I could never understand. Anyone who has run before a high breaking sea in both styles of craft will appreciate the enormous difference between the behaviour of the long-countered vessel and the one with the pointed stern. The latter is undoubtedly the boat for comfort and safety in a sea-way.

We have now got a good sea-boat almost as safe as a lifeboat—but the next question is, how will she sail? A double-ended craft like the one I am speaking of will run or reach as well as anything of her size; but, being of such light draught, though she will turn to windward well enough, maybe, in smooth water, she will be a very slow boat, making scarcely any headway, but considerable leeway, when she encounters the tumbling waters of the Zuider Zee or Baltic on a breezy day. This, of course, must be remedied by some means; for we cannot always have fair winds and smooth waters. And now I am coming to my greatest heresy—I would not make a hole in the bottom of my boat and pass the orthodox centreboard through it; but I should sling on either side of her the heterodox leeboard.

In this country we are not accustomed to see leeboards on pleasure craft, and they are considered to be ugly. In Holland, where they also know something about small yachts, elegant polished oak brass-bound leeboards are invariably attached to the brightly polished little oaken vessel. One soon comes to consider a leeboard as an ornament. The appearance of a long double-ended boat is distinctly improved by these wing-like appendages. Finding that my lifeboat was so unsatisfactory on a wind, I got a Dutch shipwright at Harlingen to fit two shapely oaken leeboards upon her, which suited her well, for she herself was of polished teak. I remember that when her leeboards were once temporarily removed we felt quite ashamed of her, so lank and naked did she appear in our eyes. But the leeboards were still more useful than they were beautiful. When I put out with them into the choppy Zuider Zee I was astounded at the success of my plan. The vessel turned to windward as she had never done before, and I soon came to the conclusion that I had almost arrived at the ideal of a shallow-water cruiser.

Leeboards have many undoubted advantages over centreboards. To make a long hole through the bottom of a boat cannot but weaken her. The trunk of a centreboard is ever in the way in a small cabin. In rough water a centreboard must strain a boat more than a leeboard does. On a little vessel like the one in question the leeboards are not cumbersome, but can be readily unshipped and stowed on deck or below when there is a leading wind, or when one is hove-to in bad weather, or rolling about at anchor. And, most important of all, if the boat runs ashore, the leeboards will come gently up, whereas a centre-plate may become jammed, and so bend or break. A leeboard never refuses to be hauled up or dropped down.

In many of the shallow Baltic fiords one is apt to run ashore pretty frequently, and sometimes on rough ground that would subject a boat to severe strain unless the centreboard were pulled up very smartly. Again, some portions of these fiords in summer present the appearance of green fields, so thickly are they overgrown with weeds whose branches float on the surface of the brackish water. It is impossible to bring a centreboard boat into this tangle. The weeds gather round the plate, choke the trunk, and cannot be cleared in many cases until the boat has been hauled up on dry land. But leeboards can be lifted and cleared in a moment, and the boat provided with them can sail over meadows of aquatic growth that would effectually bar the approach of the orthodox yacht. To reach the inland brednings or 'broads' of the Baltic, far larger and as fair as those of Norfolk, one must often pass through these weedy passages, and this is not one of the least of my reasons for advocating the leeboard.

I should like to see leeboards more employed in this country. I remember as a small boy coming into possession of my first boat, some old ship's dinghy. I put sails in her, but, to my disgust, not a bit would she turn to windward. I tried to fix a false keel on her, but my appliances were few, and I was unsuccessful. Now, had I known of the simple expedient of the leeboard, limited as was my carpentering skill, I should have had no trouble in making my boat tack. The pleasure of sailing was thus denied to me for several years afterwards, and all through my ignorance of the leeboard. There must be plenty of boys at the present time in similar plight, in parts of the Far West for instance, where, as I discovered the other day, the very name of leeboard is unknown. In an hour or so anyone can convert almost anything that will float into something that will sail by means of leeboards; and this is a fact well worth knowing when one finds oneself in some wild corner of the earth and wishes to extemporise a sailing-craft. I have done something of the sort on more than one occasion. Once I was living by the shores of a lake in Florida. I started at short notice for a fortnight's cruise inside the keys that line the coast of the Gulf of Mexico above Tampa. Nothing else being procurable, I borrowed one of the canoes of the country, a flat-bottomed punt with no more lines than a horse-trough. I manufactured a sail, and one leeboard which I could throw over from one side to the other according to the tack I was on; and away I went with rod and gun down the shallow passes, up winding bayous and across broad lakes; a delightful little cruise; and my strange craft, to the astonishment of the crackers, sailed like a witch. It was the very coast for a leeboard; for the channels between the keys and the mainland are often very shallow—so shallow, indeed, that when the tempestuous north wind blew and the rising waves poured into my vessel, so that she would soon have filled and settled to the bottom, I was sometimes enabled to lighten her, and so save her, by stepping overboard; and then I would walk ahead of her, painter in hand, and tow her against wind and sea until the weather moderated—a manœuvre that can be recommended under such circumstances.

To return to our little Baltic cruiser—I have only given the broad features of what I consider to be the most fitting craft. As for the details of rig, cabin arrangements, and so forth, each man knows best what he requires. But were I having such a boat made ready for myself, she should be built of oak. Her sides and leeboard should not be painted, but be varnished and kept brightly polished after the Dutch fashion—boiled oil and rosin is the mixture for the purpose. She should have a small well. There should be the usual hatch on the cabin-roof to slide back and facilitate entrance to the cabin; but, instead of the usual cabin-doors, I should have a water-tight bulkhead between the well and cabin, with only a small square opening at the top, which could be closed with a sliding shutter when necessary. The cabin would then be kept snug and dry.

It is, of course, the right thing for the skipper of a small vessel to run for a port when bad weather is coming on; but this cannot always be done, and it is by far the wiser policy to remain on the open sea and make the best of it than to rush blindly before the gale towards a harbour whose dangers and difficulties are unknown to one. I remember once being with some men who, because the sea was rather ugly, were very anxious to run into a most dangerous river mouth, to the almost certain perdition of our vessel. This was the suggestion of panic, but they called it prudence. Some small vessels, even though they be rather shallow, like the one I am speaking of, can claw off a lee shore in pretty heavy weather. Unless one have the misfortune to be embayed, there is generally one tack on which the boat can keep off the land—despite the leeway—well snugged down, with as little head-sail as possible on her, and forging slowly ahead all the time. But on such occasions there must be a good man at the tiller. Mr. ——, the most skilful sailor of small craft we have ever had, who used to knock about single-handed in all sorts of weather, and who, it will be remembered, at last died alone of heart-disease on his vessel in mid-channel—a fitting death for such a man—made it a rule to beat to sea instead of running for a port on the appearance of bad weather. He proved what can be done with a tiny yacht properly handled. But then he was a consummate seaman—so much so, indeed, that those who knew him affirm that no other man than he could have performed some of his exploits.

A little vessel may be blown away from the land, or have plenty of sea-room to leeward when the storm attacks her. Then it is not so difficult to know and to do the right thing. If the craft be such as I am imagining her to be, she should be able to ride out almost any weather with drogue out, and possibly a bit of trysail or mizzen set, sheeted well amidships. Every small yacht should be provided with one of these drogues or sea-anchors when a long cruise is to be undertaken. I have never seen one employed; but I was in the habit of carrying one, which consisted of an iron ring some 3 feet broad, to which was bent a stout canvas bag with a pointed end. A bridle was attached to the ring by which it could be made fast to a 20-fathom grass-rope. A very good drogue, which serves as a breakwater as well, can be extemporised with a spar. If one side of a small strong jib be bent on the spar, and a weight be attached to the lower corner of the jib, this ought to form a very efficient drag.

CHAPTER XII

FIVE-TONNERS AND FIVE-RATERS IN THE NORTH
By G. L. Blake

A few years ago a great sportsman, whose privilege it had been to take an active part in nearly every form of sport known to the British Isles, was asked which of them all he thought should be placed at the head of the list as being most conducive to make its follower manly, and at the same time least open to the criticism of those who are always inclined to find fault with their neighbours' methods of employing their spare time. There was some little hesitation before he gave an answer, but at length he expressed an opinion that yachting excelled all others. To enumerate a few of his reasons will not be out of place here.

The first and foremost was the utter absence of any possibility of cruelty, as calls could only be made on inanimate materials and the yachtsmen themselves. Then it was quite out of the question for a man to be a thorough yachtsman without courage and endurance being brought into play. Quickness of action, or the ability to think and act at the same time, was also a necessity in yachting, as it was in most other sports; but it was an absolute one here, because the elements were an unknown force, and sudden contingencies, not to be equalled in intensity or severity by any possible emergency ashore, had frequently to be faced. This quality—quickness of resource—was, of all others, the characteristic of the sailor.

Two more points were added, which certainly tend to place yachting, and yacht racing especially, in the fore rank of sports. The first was that yacht racing and cruising are carried on by those who enter upon them, not in any way as a business, but solely for the love of the sea. The prizes, such as they are, when bestowed in money are so small in comparison with the outlay and cost in building and sailing a racing crack, that in most of the recognised classes they only go a very little way towards lessening the general expenditure, whilst as for betting on the races, such a thing was rare in the extreme.

The last argument was that 'unfair sailing' was a thing almost, if not quite, unknown, and if there was an argument in favour of extra money for yachts' crews on racing days, it was that it helped to encourage all hands to do their utmost to make their vessels, let the look-out be ever so bad, come in and win.

To one desirous not only of enjoying the sport, but also of really understanding every detail connected with it, from splicing, knotting, sail-making, varnishing, painting, cleaning brasswork, setting, taking in, reefing or shifting sail, to steering a clean full-and-bye against a head-sea, or learning to make himself comfortable on the smallest possible fit-out, an old yachtsman's advice is, the smaller the boat chosen to begin with the better; and after a quarter of a century's experience of small yachts in all weathers, seas, and climates, he believes the vessel of about 30 feet in length, with a moderate beam and draught of water, is the smallest capable of keeping the sea with any degree of comfort and safety. There are no more suitable yachts of the size referred to than those built under the old Thames Rule of Measurement, or the late Rule of the Yacht Racing Association, to sail in the class for yachts of 5 tons and under. A restriction might be added to the exclusion of such yachts as were the extreme outcome of the rule; but as only three were built—one designed by Mr. G. L. Watson and the late Mr. Payton's two vessels, both of which were lost—there is no need for the limitation; and on looking back into the eighties it will be found that the 3-ton class in the South and the 3½-ton class in the North altogether monopolised the true plank-on-edge model entirely for themselves. Though the extreme types under the old rule were long, narrow, and deep, they were fine weatherly little sea-boats to the practised hand, but as a school for the tiro, except in racing, too heavily sparred and too narrow.

The main point in favour of the 5-ton yacht built under the old rule—for the 5-rater of to-day is almost as large as the former 10-tonner, and requires quite as many, if not more, hands to work her on a racing day with her present lugsail rig—is that she is easily worked with one good hand, can be raced with three, or easily with four; and those whose early practical yachting experience was gained as small yacht sailors and yacht-owners will agree in this, that their happiest hours were spent in the boat that required fewest paid hands, or when their ship was of such a size that they were able to put to sea single-handed, or perhaps in company with a friend who could make himself useful. There are many who will say that a 10-ton or even a 20-ton yacht is too small to stand out to sea in; but when a yacht is of such a size that she requires more hands than one to work her there will be little or nothing learned, whereas, if the yacht is just a little too much for one man to handle, the owner is bound to do his portion of work each day, and what he does not know will soon be taught him by his man, so that he may enjoy his fair share of rest and not have to be called up in the middle of his watch below. Besides, if the cost is a consideration, a 5-ton yacht can be built for just half the price of a 10-tonner, and the keeping it up is very much smaller in proportion.

It is not quite twenty years since the racing yachts of 5 tons were formed into a class, and prizes awarded them. The Clyde yachtsmen were the first to appreciate the value and capabilities of the little ships for affording good all-round sport, and the small expenditure entailed at that date in building them was a consideration in their favour. It has been a favourite class ever since.

In Dublin Bay small yacht racing is far from a novelty, but it is only within the last few years that boats have been built to the class adopted in the seventies, viz., for 'yachts of 6 tons and under,' time allowance having previously been used to bring the small fry together. At that time Liverpool had two pet classes, the 20-ton and 10-ton, and such small yachts as were located on the Sloyne entered in the latter class.

It was about the middle of the summer of 1873 that the writer's attention was first drawn to small racing yachts under 7 tons, and the way in which they could face almost all weathers. It had been, as it is at the present day, the custom to decry and run down racing yachts as unfit to be made into cruisers. 'The scantlings were light,' 'the framework was weak,' 'the plank, especially at the garboards and towards the run under the counter, may have been dubbed down to almost the thickness of brown paper.' This latter process was often resorted to some twenty-five years ago, so that ballast in the form of lead sheeting might be padded on to the keel and garboards. More than one large yacht at that period had been so treated that she was supposed to have not much more than half-an-inch planking at her two lowest strakes. 'I would not buy an old racing yacht if I were you.' Such were the comments and never-ceasing advice dinned into the ear; 'besides, they are fearfully wet in a sea-way, and most uncomfortable,' and, therefore, at that time the writer's vessel was a strong, able, high free-boarded schooner of 11 tons. In that year there could not have been a dozen yachts, taking our coasts round, which were being raced as 5-tonners, but there were classes made up of yachts of 7 tons and under, which took in some stray 3- and 4-tonners, and here and there a casual 5- or 6-tonner. One of the best of these 6-ton yachts (and this is including all the Scotch and South-country boats) was a little vessel built in 1871 for Mr. W. A. Tomlinson, by Mr. Dickenson, of Birkenhead, the well-known builder and designer of the principal pioneer Liverpool 10-tonners. Unfortunately her dimensions cannot be correctly stated, but she was about 32 feet between stem and sternpost on deck, some 6 ft. 6 in. in beam, and had a draught of 5 feet or a little more—that is, she was as nearly as possible the size of the 5-tonner of a five or six years' later date.

The occasion on which the 'Wyvern' came under the writer's special notice was one long to be remembered on account of the anxiety created among the little yacht's admirers at Kingstown, owing to the severity of the gale that blew after she had left that port for Liverpool. There had been a regatta in Dublin Bay, where, as is usual, all the small boats of the St. George's Channel had collected to do battle. The 'Wyvern' had come over from the Mersey, and having won, her owner (at that time Mr. Colin Napier, of Liverpool) had left her in the hands of his two men, that he might hurry back to his business by steamer. The men were ordered to make the best of their way to Birkenhead, as the yacht had been entered for a local regatta the same week.

They started early on a Wednesday, but unfortunately ran aground on the rocks at the end of the eastern breakwater on which the lighthouse is built. For the greater part of the day the boat was standing high and dry some feet above the low-water mark, but she sustained no damage, was floated off at the return of the tide, and left at once for her destination. The hour of her departure was about three or four o'clock in the afternoon. Three yachts left the harbour in company with her, bound for the same port, all three being at least 25-tonners.

As the barometer had been falling ever since the morning, and there was every indication of bad weather, the skipper in charge of the 'Wyvern' was repeatedly advised to postpone his start till the following day, or till a change in the weather should take place; but it was to no purpose, since he was very anxious to reach the Mersey as soon as possible.

Towards 6 p.m. the north-westerly breeze, which had been blowing since noon, increased considerably, so much so, that first one and then the other of the larger yachts gave up and turned tail before it might become too late, the last to say good-bye being the largest of the three. This yacht, a well-known hard-weather vessel of over 40 tons measurement, after trying to signal a last advice to the little 'Wyvern' to return, put her helm down (though she was well past the Kish Lightship), and made herself snug for the dusting she was in for on the journey back to Kingstown.

On shore, at both club-houses, the greatest alarm was being felt not only for the 'Wyvern's' safety, but also for the welfare of her three larger sisters, and the anxiety on the 'Wyvern's' account increased still more when her three companions put in their appearance again at their moorings. During the evening and through the night the wind increased to a whole gale, and the meteorological report next morning proved anything but pleasant reading, whilst among the old salts and those best acquainted with the capabilities of small yachts little hope was felt of ever seeing the 'Wyvern' again.

On the evening of the next day the writer left Kingstown for Liverpool in his yacht, and fell in with the Mersey 10-tonners making the best of their way down river. The nearest yacht hailed informed him that the 'Wyvern' had arrived all safe, and had made a very fast passage across to the Sloyne. A few days after, meeting the skipper, a full account of the trip was given, and there was no limit to the eulogies he had to bestow on the yacht. During the night the sea had increased the further they sailed from under the lee of the land, but for all that the only time any seas were shipped was when off Holyhead. Twice only had they to free the yacht of water, and on those occasions very little had gone into the cabin.

The 'Wyvern' was not a yacht of large displacement; she inclined, indeed, rather the other way. Those who have seen the 'Naiad' or 'Pastime' hauled up out of water (two of Dickenson's old crack 10-tonners which now frequent the South Coast ports) will have a better idea than any words can give of the 'Wyvern's' style of model and midship section. Built for length on deck, there was no necessity for shortening up the water-line, and her sternpost had no very great rake. Her buttock lines were as easy and fair as could be, giving her a slightly hollowed entrance with a nice clean run aft. Her extreme draught was not much over 5 feet, and her keel ran almost straight from the heel of the sternpost to the foot of the stem—that is, with very little if any rocker (or rounding) to it. Dickenson had a very admirable method of finishing off the after end of his yachts, and their counters were all light, and neatly put on. The 'Wyvern's' counter was particularly so. She was flush-decked save a large cockpit, which opened into the cabin, and which was surrounded by a 5-inch combing. This was the only weak or vulnerable part about her; for if a really heavy lump of water had filled it, there was nothing to prevent the cabin being swamped. Her fittings below were of the simplest description, though very comfortable. The sofas on each side of the saloon formed lockers and berths, and beyond these a pantry and a fitting for a lavatory, which was forward on the starboard side, with the usual two square lockers at the after ends of the sofas, were all the furniture of any consequence she contained. She had wood floors, iron not having come into fashion at that time, and carried the greater part of her ballast inside to the tune of 3 tons of lead and 10 cwt. of iron. Her outside ballast consisted of a 14-cwt. lead keel, which was considered in those days a very heavy keel for so small a yacht. She was one of the first small yachts of 6 tons or under that was fitted with a flush deck and ordinary skylight, and in every way she looked the picture of smartness. When she was first built her principal antagonists about her own size were the 'Adèle,' a small 5-ton yacht also by Dickenson, the 'Pet,' 5 tons, built at Douglas, Isle of Man, in 1871, and a very fast 3-tonner, the 'Barracouta,' built by Bishop in 1860, for Mr. J. M. Hannay. She was altered in 1874 into a yawl in order to race in the 5-ton class, which was at that time just beginning to be popular.

Among the most celebrated of the early 5-tonners were three yachts, the 'Pearl,' 'Torment,' and 'Arrow.' Of the three, the 'Pearl' and 'Torment' were the best known, and are still held in loving memory by many a yachting enthusiast. The 'Torment,' owned by that well-known yachtsman the late Secretary to the Royal Irish Yacht Club, was raced from the day of her birth, some time about the year 1850, and was always a leader of the van. Her racing career lasted not much less than twenty years, and it was only the lead keels and the deep bodies given to the later yachts that brought it to a close. It is when looking back on such good old warriors as the 'Torment' and the 'Mosquito,' among the larger racers, that lovers of the sport whose incomes are limited must agree that the old days were good indeed. It was not necessary then to be the fortunate possessor of a new vessel each season to enable the lover of yacht racing to win prizes and keep well in with the flyers of the year. When an old boat appeared to be not quite up to the mark, or lacking in the requisite turn of speed, little was done to make her beat some new comer beyond a few alterations, which as a rule took the form of doctoring up one or other of her ends, or, perhaps, lengthening her out amidships. The most remarkable example of how a yacht's racing life could be made to outlive many competitors and leave her a winner to the last, by effecting alteration after alteration on her hull, was that of the old 'Arrow,' which belonged to Mr. Tankerville Chamberlayne. Alas! the days when an alteration was quite sufficient to keep a yacht successful have long since passed away, and from the present outlook seem as if they will never again return.

The 'Pearl,' like the 'Torment,' was a hard nut to crack for all the new aspirants to fame which were built to beat her, and she kept her position as the fastest of the 'Mosquito' fleet for an untold number of years. She hailed from Fairlie, that birthplace of hundreds of fast, powerful winners, so dear to the hearts of all Scotch yachtsmen, and so well known in almost, every corner of the globe. She was owned and built by Mr. Fife early in the sixties, and after ending her racing career in the Clyde has found her way over to France, where she is as much appreciated as she was in the height of her day in Scotch waters, and has kept up her reputation of being a difficult boat to beat. Her dimensions were: length, 25 feet; beam, 7 feet; and draught, 4 feet. There were many yachts built to beat her, among them being the 5-tonners 'Hilda' and 'Viola,' designed, owned, and built by Mr. Inglis. This well-known yachtsman also launched a very pretty schooner of 8 tons called the 'Cordelia,' now, unhappily, lying at the bottom of the sea. She, like his other two ventures, was designed to race in the 5-ton class, and also to put the wee 'Pearl's' nose out of joint. They were all three big boats, fully decked, and veritable ships when compared with the 'Pearl.' They drew a foot or two more water, had big midship sections, and were in every way larger and more powerful yachts. Their success, however, was only partial, and it was a question whether, after all, the old boat did not in the long run hold her own.

The 'Arrow's' reputation was only of short duration in comparison with the 'Torment' and 'Pearl,' but she was a remarkably small boat, and very like them in the main features of her design. She was got out originally to play a part very different from that in which she proved herself so successful, having been built and launched for a fishing-boat to trawl in the Thames; but her speed, like that of the Liverpool 10-tonner 'Wonderful,' showed up so conspicuously when sailing in company with other fast boats that she was forthwith bought, turned into a yacht, and made to fly a racing burgee. As may be supposed, both the 'Torment' and 'Arrow,' as well as the 'Pearl,' were only half-decked boats with waterways round them.

In the year 1873, Mr. Stowe, of Shoreham, built the 'Diamond' to the design of her owner, Mr. W. Baden-Powell. She won some few races under his flag, but the chief reason of her name appearing in these pages is that she was, if the writer is not very much mistaken, the first of all the yachts of 5 tons and under in the south of England to go from port to port and race, her owner and his friends living on board. The 'Diamond' was a decided advance on the boats of her tonnage stationed between the Thames and Southampton; yet she looked small indeed when moored alongside the yachts of a year or two later date. Her length was 26 feet, with a beam of 7 feet, and an extreme draught of 4 ft. 6 in. She ran her fore and aft lines right fair to her taffrail, and had a long counter, part of which was submerged when she was down to her load-water-line. With such a small draught of water her height under the deck was necessarily low; she had however a high fixed coach roof, which helped her out of that difficulty to a certain extent. The cabin was roomy and made up four berths, but her weak point, like that of the 'Wyvern,' was her immense cockpit, which was almost as capacious as her cabin.

In 1874 the late Mr. Charles Weguelin illustrated in a prophetical manner what were to be the dimensions and proportion of length to beam of the yacht of the future. The 'Alouette' was a 5-tonner, 33 ft. 7 in. in length from stem to sternpost on deck, 5 ft. 9 in. in beam, and with an extreme draught of 6 feet. She was built from Mr. Weguelin's design by Robertson, of Ipswich, but was not a great beauty to look at out of the water. Her body was long and full, and her displacement naturally large, though nothing like that given to vessels constructed on similar dimensions during the ensuing decade. Her chief antagonists were yachts of quite an opposite design, beamy, and of no great draught, besides being of a greater tonnage, such as the 'Virago,' 6 tons, 'Rayonette,' 8 tons, and 'Zephyr,' 9 tons. Against these the 'Alouette' was very successful, but her course was run as a successful racer when the season of 1876 ushered in one of the late Mr. Dan Hatcher's most triumphant achievements. Mr. Weguelin was so satisfied with what his 5-tonner had done that he set to work, and in 1875 placed the design of a 40-tonner in the late Mr. Ratsey's hands, who launched from his yard the 'Christine,' the counterpart of the 'Alouette,' only twice her size; that is, by doubling all the dimensions of the 5-tonner, the 'Christine,' a 40-tonner, was the result. The 'Christine,' however, did not fulfil the expectations of her designer, and though her length approached as nearly as possible to that of the 60-tonners of her date, still she could do nothing with them.

Before saying farewell to the 'Alouette,' it is as well to remember that, notwithstanding her small amount of beam, she was a grand sea-boat. On one occasion she sailed from Southampton to Algiers and made a very good passage, considering that she had to face some very heavy weather on her journey. It has become the custom to run down the seaworthiness of the yachts built under the old rule, but the number of examples that could be produced, if time and space permitted, of what the old 5-tonner would go through, and that at her ease and without any fuss, would more than astonish many who now, in the faith they bestow on the boat with three beams to her length, forget the comfort and safety in which they were carried about by the old boats of five to six beams to their length. The 'Alouette' was wrecked at Algiers in 1890. She broke adrift from her moorings during a gale of wind, and was smashed up into matchwood. Nothing was saved from her.

The season of 1876 was one especially to be remembered among those interested in the now established 5-ton class, as it witnessed the advent of three grand additions to the greatly increased fleet sailing in that class. Each yacht was from the well-thought-out drawing of a master-hand, and each was the representative of the three several schools of yacht-design, the 'Freda' being the work of the late Mr. Dan Hatcher of Belvidere, Northam, near Southampton; the 'Camellia' the offspring of Mr. William Fife, jun., of Fairlie, on the Clyde; while the 'Vril' was built from the design of Mr. G. L. Watson, of Glasgow.

The 'Vril' holds the right of precedence in that she was not only designed, but built and sailed, by her three owners, Messrs. G. L. Watson, John Lawrence and J. B. Hilliard, who, assisted by two carpenters, put her together in the Messrs. Henderson's yard at Partick, Glasgow. She was a fine, round-bodied little vessel, with a large sectional area and great sail-carrying powers. She had less waste surface for friction and skin resistance in proportion to her size than many a yacht of a much smaller tonnage. In several ways she might be said to have been a novelty, as she was the first yacht that was fitted with a heavy lead keel consisting of the whole of her ballast. Her counter was short and tucked up with a knuckle on the quarter. She had no bulkheads, and her fittings were only such as were absolutely necessary; still very little goes a long way towards making a small yacht comfortable, and her head-room under her deck made her 'tween decks look like a palace. She was about the last yacht that was supplied with the fore and aft studding-sail (or stu'n's'l, as it is called) known as the 'ringtail'; but it was seldom, if ever, called into use. For small yachts such wind scrapers are more trouble than they are worth, to say nothing of the room the extra spars take up. The 'Vril's' record was remarkably good, and though the three friends, assisted by an amateur or two, were her only crew during her first season—for her owners would not have a paid hand on board—she won a full quantum of first prizes, and with the clever boats she had for rivals praise must be meted out not only to the little yacht herself, but to those who sailed her for the smart manner in which she was handled.

The 'Camellia' and 'Vril' were, with the exception of their draught, almost identical in their dimensions, the 'Vril' being 28 ft. 3 in. long and the 'Camellia' 28 feet. Their respective beams were the same, 6 ft. 6 in., and they drew, the 'Vril' 6 feet and 'Camellia' about 5 feet of water. The 'Vril' at the end of her third season was sold and turned into a fast cruiser. Her fittings, as they are now, are very elaborate and are well illustrated and explained in the seventh edition of that handy and serviceable book, 'A Manual of Yacht- and Boat-Sailing.' She has been laid up for some time at Mr. Robertson's yard at Sandbank in the Holy Loch, where her proximity to many new yachts makes the signs of the sere and yellow-leaf stage of her existence, which is creeping upon her, very apparent. But there is life in the old boat yet, and her owner has in the 'Vril' a fine, able, comfortable little cruiser.

It is now some six years since the writer had the pleasure of seeing the 'Camellia.' She had just been sold to a gentleman to go to Stranraer, where she is at the present time. She was hauled up on Fairlie beach in charge of the late Mr. Boag, and was awaiting a suitable tide for being launched. The 'Camellia,' though of like dimensions to the 'Vril,' was altogether different in form, and to those acquainted with the Fairlie type was as pretty an example of what the Messrs. Fife were in the habit of turning out at that period as it was possible to select. She and her sister ship the 'Clio' were both built from the same drawing, and were the first boats in which Mr. William Fife, jun., whose name is now a household word among men interested in yachting matters, played the conspicuous part of designer. The 'Camellia' was a smaller-bodied boat altogether, more compact than either the 'Vril' or 'Freda,' with a powerful entrance and fine run, and ribbands as fair as they could be. Messrs. Craig and Lawson, for whom she was built, possessed in her a little sea-boat capable of being driven in all weathers, and the harder it blew the more she seemed to like it. With less bilge and somewhat higher floor than 'Vril,' she was fitted, like her predecessor the 'Pearl,' with simply a half-deck and waterways, and was strengthened by a strong beam running across her to which the pump was attached. Of course in smooth water it was a great advantage being able to work the yacht from below, but in anything like very heavy weather she carried hatches for covering in the open space. Both the 'Vril' and 'Freda' were fitted with topmasts, but giving the 'Camellia' the same fitting was only an afterthought, for when she was launched, like the 'Clio,' she was supplied with a polemast. Three or four years after her appearance she was decked in and provided with a very neat coach roof, or booby hatch, but her head-room below in her cabin could not have been more than 4 feet. She makes a very good cruiser now, and from the grand work put into her, as into all yachts which hail from the great Fairlie yard, her sides looked when last seen as fresh and as smooth as on the day when she first saw the water.

The 'Freda' is (for she is still hale, strong, and fit to show her tail to many a vessel of her size on cruising terms) a fine able boat, some 30 ft. 4 in. on the L.W.L., with a beam of 6 ft. 1-¼ in. and draught of water 6 ft. 6 in. She is, like all the Belvidere yachts of those days, a boat of large displacement with a grand midship section, with Hatcher's well-known entrance, and a rather lighter quarter than usual. Her sternpost has very little rake in it; in fact, excessive rake of sternpost was a rarity during the seventies, and her keel was only slightly rockered. Most of her ballast, about 2 tons 14 cwt., was carried inside, and the lead on her keel was under 2 tons. She was built for Mr. Freake, her planking being altogether of mahogany. All the wood, dead woods, ribs, and planking were got out in Mr. Hatcher's yard and then taken to Mr. Freake's estate, where she was put together and finished off. As a model yacht she is a perfect picture both above and below water, as well as on deck and in the cabin. With a flush deck and a small water-tight cockpit, after the fashion of the 10-tonners, and a neat skylight, the 'Freda' looks all over fit to go, and equal to all emergencies. She has proved herself quite as much at home when cutting her way through a head sea as when smooth water and dry decks have been the rule. She was the home of her racing crew, and Mr. Beavor Webb, who sailed her during her racing career, and afterwards bought her from Mr. Freake, could spin many a yarn of the little boat's great weatherly capabilities.

No three yachts were more unlike each other, and after all the 'Freda' had done down South, and the 'Vril' and 'Camellia's' successes in the Clyde, so much attention was attracted to them that at last a series of matches was arranged to take place between them off Holyhead the following season of 1877. The place was well chosen, as in bringing the several matches off on the coast of Holyhead Island there was no chance of favouritism, since the locality was strange to all concerned, and the yachts had to prove their worth in a sea quite different from that to which any of them had been accustomed. It is not too much to say that, owing to the distance that had to be covered before the three yachts could reach Holyhead, and the fame of their doings in the yacht-racing world, no more interesting racing has since taken place, either in America or in our own home waters, than the matches that were sailed off by these little opponents.

The arrangement was that 'Freda' should sail 'Camellia' and 'Vril' separately, and the yacht that pulled off two out of each three races was to be declared the winner. The weather for some days prior to and during the race week was anything but inviting, and the manner in which the yachts worked their way to their port showed at once what kind of stuff they were. The 'Vril' was unfortunate, for owing to some gross carelessness the men who brought the yacht round from the Clyde allowed her mainsail to get damaged to such an extent that during the trials it could scarcely be made to stand. The stakes were for 100l. a side. The first match between 'Freda' and 'Vril' took place on May 14, 1877. The courses on each occasion were arranged by Messrs. G. L. Watson and Dixon Kemp. On the first day the course lay from the New Harbour across a line between the 20-ton yacht 'Challenge' and a buoy, round the end of the breakwater westward, rounding a flag-boat outside the inner end of the breakwater, thence eastward three miles round the Bolivar buoy; thence to a mark-boat off the old pier, twice round, finishing between the 'Challenge' and the starting buoy, 14 miles. There could not have been a finer trial than these three matches afforded. The wind on the 14th was light from E.S.E., shifting to the eastward, accompanied by rain, whilst on the second day it veered round between S.W. and N.W., and brought up with it the usual sea that most yachtsmen frequenting St. George's Channel know so well and hate so cordially. Space will not permit a full account of the races to be given here, but should details be required, they will be found most faithfully recorded in an article in 'Hunt's Magazine' for the year 1877, which has greatly assisted the writer in refreshing his memory, or in the 'Field' newspaper that was published on the Saturday following the races.

The first match was the 'Vril's.' She was the first over the line, and though the 'Freda' very soon after passed her to leeward, she soon regained her original position, and gradually so increased her lead that at the end of the first round she was 1 min. 30 secs. ahead of her rival. The two little flyers had donned for the occasion all plain lower sail with working topsails aloft. On the run out for the breakwater the second time spinnakers were set, when the 'Vril' was unfortunate enough to carry away the goose-neck of her spinnaker boom. This was followed by the boom slipping into the water and at once snapping in two. Her crew smartly cleared the wreck, the outer end of the boom was lashed to the weather rigging, and the spinnaker set once more. Those familiar with such matters will readily understand how well things must have been done on board the Scotch yacht, when it is said that 50 seconds were all that the 'Freda' made out of the mishap. Before reaching the Bolivar buoy, the 'Vril' had more than made up her lost ground; and though on the journey home the 'Freda' gained a little, she was decidedly beaten, as she came in nearly 6 minutes astern of the 'Vril,' the times being—'Vril,' 3 hrs. 40 mins. 40 secs., and 'Freda,' 3 hrs. 46 mins. 10 secs.