Boat Sailing in Fair Weather and Foul, 6th ed.

by A. J. Kenealy

FLOATING ANCHOR IN USE.

In scudding before a strong wind and a heavy sea in a small craft, a trysail is always preferable to a sail with a boom, which may effect much mischief by trailing in the water or suddenly gybing. The helmsman must be always on the alert to prevent the boat from "broaching to," which means flying up in the wind; or from being "brought by the lee," which means running off so as to bring the wind on the other quarter. A long, narrow boat will always run before the wind better than a short, beamy craft, as she is better adapted for taking the seas, and she also steers easier, not yawing about so much or turning round every few minutes to take a look at her wake. The inexperienced boat sailer should bear in mind that scudding in a seaway is ticklish work, and is not unlikely to be attended with peril. If you have no trysail, reef the mainsail and lower the peak. Hoist on the weather topping lift so as to keep the boom as high as possible out of the water. By no means run a boat before the wind until it blows too hard and the sea is too high to heave to with safety. If the breeze seems likely to pipe up, make up your mind immediately. Delay is dangerous. Have your sea anchor ready. Watch for a smooth. When it comes put your helm down smartly, trimming in the mainsheet. When she gets the wind on the bow, heave your sea anchor overboard and ride to it either with the mainsail set or lowered, as may be deemed best.

If you happen to be on a lee shore, with the surf breaking high on the beach, and you cannot claw off, do not wait until it is too late and your boat is in the breakers. Let go the anchor, and if it holds try to ride out the storm. If your ground tackle gives way, do your best to set the mainsail and steer boldly for the shore. The faster you go the better chance you have to be carried high and dry. Remember that this will give you a fighting chance for your life, whereas if your boat gets broadside on in the breakers she will most likely roll over and over and in all probability drown you and your crew.

It may be thought preposterous for me to advocate the use of oil to break the force of curling wave-crests when a small craft is riding to a raft or sea anchor. Most people would naturally suppose that a boat could not carry enough oil aboard her for it to have any beneficial effect in smoothing a turbulent sea. Nor could it if it was poured into the ocean out of its original package, or out of "bags with small holes punctured in their bottoms," as some marine experts advise. The proper way to apply oil is to fill a round bottomed canvas bag, about two feet long and eight inches in diameter, three parts full of oakum or cotton waste. Do not pack too tightly. Pour into this as much fish or animal oil as the oakum or waste will suck up. Sew the mouth up tightly with palm and needle. Secure a lanyard to it. Make a few holes in its sides with a marlinespike and hang it over the lee bow, and you will be surprised at the result. The seas, instead of breaking over the boat and threatening to swamp her, will become comparatively smooth as soon as they approach the limits of the film of the oil as it oozes slowly out of the bag. When running over a harbor bar where the sea is breaking badly, a couple of these bags suspended from either bow will prevent the waves from pooping the little craft and help her materially in her struggle for existence. Mineral oil will do if no other is available, and a gallon of it will go a long way if used in the manner mentioned above. These bags should be carried all ready for use when cruising, so that all you will have to do is to pour the oil in, sew up the mouths and hang them over the bows by the lanyards. A ship's boat with a dozen men aboard once safely weathered an Atlantic gale by riding to a couple of buckets and a cork fender saturated with kerosene. Pouring oil on troubled waters is by no means a case of bluff or the dream of an opium smoker, but a capital "wrinkle" by means of which many a good man has been saved from Davy Jones' yawning locker. I trust that these little bags will form part of the outfit of all going on long cruises. They may serve as pillows or may be made in the shape of cushions, so long as the above general idea is followed.

THE BOSTON KNOCKABOUT "GOSLING."

As a striking instance of the value of oil in a heavy gale I will quote the case of the British ship Slivemore, which took fire in June, 1885, while in the Indian Ocean about eight hundred miles northeastward of the Seychelle Islands. The ship was abandoned and the boats steered for the islands. Capt. Conly, of the Slivemore, gave orders that each boat should take aboard two cans of paint oil for use in bad weather, and he also instructed the officer in command of each boat in the use of the oil. Three days after the ship was left the boats encountered a cyclone. Drags made from spars, oars and sails lashed together were rigged, and to these improvised sea anchors the frail craft rode securely. Stockings filled with oakum saturated with the oil were hung over the bows of the boats and formed an oil-slick of considerable expanse. Before the stockings were hung out the boats narrowly escaped being swamped and the men had to bail hard with buckets. The oil prevented the seas from breaking and the boats rode over the enormous waves in safety. Little water was shipped, and those on board the boats were able to lie down and sleep while a tropical cyclone was raging furiously. All the boats reached the islands in safety without the loss of a man, but had it not been for the oil the loss of the Slivemore would have remained an untold mystery of the ocean.

A still more wonderful example of the efficacy of oil is told by the captain of the ship Martha Cobb, and it relates to the achievement of a sixteen-foot dinghy. In December, 1886, the Martha Cobb, petroleum laden, encountered a heavy gale in the North Atlantic. She shipped some tremendous seas which swept away all her large boats, washed away her bulwarks and played havoc generally with her decks. The only boat that was left uninjured was the aforesaid sixteen-foot dinghy, intended solely for smooth water work.

While laboring and plunging in the mountainous sea, the Martha Cobb fell in with a sinking vessel flying signals of distress to the effect that the water was fast gaining on her and that all her boats were stove in. The captain of the Martha Cobb determined to stand by the vessel in distress, in the hope that the gale would abate. He knew that his little cockleshell of a dinghy could not possibly live in such weather, and that it would be suicidal to lower her and attempt a rescue.