A good craft for the Baltic.
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.
Towing head to wind.
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.