Now I wish to call your attention to No. 3. She has enough sail spread when on the crest of a wave. But observe her when in the hollow. She has scarcely a stitch of sail above the level of the crest. The consequence is that her weight being so low down, and her form having so much stability, she swings with a violent roll to windward and her mast is thereby imperilled. This is the result of not having the requisite amount of pressure at the head of the sail.
The commanders of square-rigged vessels always bear this in mind. They heave to under a close-reefed maintopsail, never under a lower course, and the ship when in the trough of the sea has enough sail exposed to keep her steady. The smart schooners that used to ply between St. Michaels and London in the fruit trade, and that were bound to make smart passages or lose money, were always fitted with gaffheaded trysails, and found them most efficacious in beating to windward in strong gales. Their sturdy skippers would have looked with contempt and ridicule upon any person so fatuous as to recommend a jibheaded trysail. And they were skilled sailors of fore-and-aft rigged craft, and were well acquainted with that stretch of the wild Atlantic between the Lizard and the Azores. These vessels used to beat up the English Channel in the teeth of an easterly gale and fight their way homeward inch by inch, and I consider the practical experience of their captains as far more reliable than the theoretical vagaries of men who were never out of soundings in a small craft.
What is true of comparatively large yachts in an Atlantic gale applies equally to the small cruiser. The theory is precisely the same, and in ordering a storm trysail from his sailmaker the aspiring owner of a smart, seaworthy cruiser might well be guided by the few hints given above. A gaffheaded trysail is just what he wants to steady his boat when hove to, and to counteract that tendency toward rolling that outside lead always has on the hull of a boat in a seaway.
When coming to anchor at any other time than low water, do not forget to allow for the fall of the tide. For instance, if you bring up in 10 feet of water when the tide is high, in a boat drawing, say 5 feet, and the range of rise and fall is also 5 feet, at low water your vessel would be aground and perhaps under untoward circumstances in danger of damage or even total loss. This hint is worth remembering in many parts of the world, especially in some parts of the Bay of Fundy, where there is a range of no less than 50 feet! Soundings on the chart denote the depth at mean low water.
VII.
OVERHAULING THE YACHT.
No matter how small a craft the yachtsman owns she will, after a winter's lay-up, require a good deal of attention before she is fit for the water; and there is no reason why a keen yachtsman who owns a tidy little craft should not fit her out himself in his spare time. In fact, I am acquainted with many boat-owners who find nearly as much delight in getting their own vessels into proper fettle for the season's sport as they do in navigating them. There is much to be said in favor of this enterprise. The principal argument is that a man overhauling the hull of the boat which belongs to him will not be at all likely to "scamp" the work. On the contrary, it is to his interest to do the job thoroughly while he is about it, for he is improving his own property; whereas if he employs a mechanic to do it by piece work, or by the day, the task may be performed in a manner more or less perfunctory, or at any rate without the attention to minor details which the actual proprietor would be expected to bring to the task.
I would not counsel a man to attempt repairs which call for the skilled shipwright or boat-builder. The result would in all probability be a lamentable failure, and in the end a mechanic would have to be called in. But the work of cleaning, painting and varnishing a hull intrinsically sound may be accomplished by the man or boy of average intelligence and industry.
What is true about a hull is still more so of her rig. When I first went to sea on a deep-water voyage, as soon as the ship was out of soundings the crew's first duty was to undo the work of the professional rigger, stay the masts anew by shrouds and backstays, and replace the hurried botch-work of knots and splices by seamanlike and shipshape work.
Anything in the shape of a boat may be made water-tight, no matter how leaky she may be, if treated with careful ingenuity. I would be the last man to suggest patching and puttying up a ramshackle craft whose frames and planking are rotten. Supposing, however, that the hull is fairly sound, but through exposure to the hot sun her planks are cracked in sundry places, and that in fact she leaks like a sieve, there is no reason why she should be condemned. There is a lot of good fun to be got out of a craft of this kind, if the proper repairs are made. If put in the hands of a professional boat-builder the cost would be very high, even if he could be induced to undertake the work. Here, then, is where a handy man or boy has a capital opportunity to try his hand as a craftsman. I repaired an old 18 foot boat in my younger days, when money was scarce and I had the alternative of giving up my pet diversion of sailing or making the ancient bucket tight.