Harper's Round Table, August 25, 1896

by Various

"And what do you call it?" he inquired again.

"A 'beach-comber,'" said Fred. "The principle of an ice-yacht, you know, but with wheels instead of runners, for use on the hard sand at low tide. There was just one thing that bothered me in the way of practical detail, and that was how to provide for the heeling over in a strong breeze or a sudden flaw. You know that when the sails fill, as an ordinary boat, she lies over, and it is her keel or centreboard that keeps her from drifting to leeward. In an ice-yacht the sharp runners keep her up, but there must be some sideways yielding to the force of the wind, and so an ice-boat rears—that is, one runner lifts free of the ice, and thereby takes off the strain. Otherwise you must either luff or be capsized. But with beach-sailing this rearing would probably throw too much weight on the leeward wheel, causing it to sink into the sand, and perhaps stop her way altogether. The sand is fairly hard when wet, but it can't be so unyielding as ice. I was just about to give it up, when I happened to recollect a wrinkle that the Dutchmen use in their ice-yachts on the Zuyder Zee. In their boats the mast is pivoted in the chocks, and consequently the sail and all lie over under the strain. When a squall strikes a fleet of Dutch ice-yachts it looks exactly as though you had winged a whole covey of partridges. It must be safer than our American plan, but of course you lose in speed. The difficulty in my mind was to understand how the mast would come up again to its proper position; but that's always the way with the people who write books—they never tell you clearly the one little thing that is absolutely necessary for a fellow to know to understand what they are describing. So I had to work it out for myself."

"This must be where the coil springs come in," said Jack, with sudden perception.

"Exactly. The mast is to be stayed by wire guys, each one ending in a coil spring attached to the extremities of the runner-plank. Of course we'll have to experiment to see just how many are needed on each side to give her the best results in the way of stiffness. We don't want her lying down at every little puff, or we would never go ahead at all. Neither must she stand up like a church, for something has got to give way when a squall hits her. We'll set up the mast and give the 'Jolly Sandboy' a trial trip the first thing to-morrow morning."

There is little to add to Fred's description, except to say that the wheels were rather different from the ordinary bicycle type. They had been built by Mr. March while he was experimenting on the "Happy Thought," and the two forward ones were twenty-four inches in diameter, while the rear wheel was but twenty inches. Moreover, the spokes were of hickory, and the tires were enormous—four inches in diameter, and of very heavy material. Even in soft sand they would cut in but little, and the spokes, being of hard-wood covered with water-proof varnish, would not be subject to rust and corrosion from the salt air and water. Of course the hubs were fitted with the usual ball-bearing. The sail plan of the "beach-comber" was that of a sloop, as being the easiest to handle, and the pivoted rear wheel acted as the rudder.

The boys, after a little experimenting with the coil springs of the standing rigging, were delighted to find that the "Jolly Sandboy" would really go. Of course there was no such thing as tacking; and, indeed, the "beach-comber's" best point of sailing was with the wind on the beam or on the quarter. As we all know from our physical geographies, the prevailing wind at the sea-shore is off the ocean during the daytime, and consequently favorable to the "Jolly Sandboy." Moreover, the gentle downward slope of the beach, as opposed to the direction of the wind, helped to keep her on an even keel. The speed was not very high, but it was nevertheless great sport to race along the edge of the breakers, and an occasional ducking from an extra big comber only gave the true salt flavor. It was hardly practicable to sail except when the tide was going out or on the half flood, and the best time was when it was dead low, as so much more of the level beach was then available. Fred generally occupied the cockpit and did the steering, while Jack stood on the weather runner-plank and held on to the shrouds, as is the custom in ice-yachting.

The "Jolly Sandboy" had been in commission for a week, and the boys had become fairly expert in her management. On this particular afternoon they had made the ten-mile run up to Cape Fear, and the conditions were so favorable for "beach-combing" that Jack proposed that they should go on past the cape for a mile or two before beginning the homeward journey. Now between Cape Fear and Cape Thunder, a mile further on, was a peculiar formation of the coast-line known as Shut-in Bay. It was surrounded on all sides by precipitous cliffs, unscalable from below, and at high water it was entirely cut off from the rest of the beach by the rocky projections of Capes Fear and Thunder. It was a dangerous trap in which to be caught by the tide, for at ordinary high water there were only two or three small ledges to which one might climb for safety, and even then the thoughtless adventurer would have to remain a prisoner until the ebb. At the time of the spring tides, twice in the month, even these precarious places of refuge were under water, and the only chance of a rescue was in being seen by a passing fishing-smack and taken off by boat. Fred was well acquainted with the dangerous character of the place, and he looked a trifle dubious when Jack proposed going on.

"But it's only a mile across to Cape Thunder, and it's not low water yet for an hour," insisted Jack. "I've got the table here in my pocket; I cut it out of last week's Guardian."

The table, compiled from the government observations, gave low water for four o'clock at Agawam, which would make it half past four at Cape Thunder. Fred looked at his watch and saw that it was just half past three. Certainly there was a plenty of time to run on for two or three miles, and then get back beyond the danger-point before the tide was fairly on the flood. Fred hauled in the sheet, and the "Jolly Sandboy" plunged forward.

Well, perhaps they had gone a little further than they intended, and the tide had certainly turned when they started homeward. But the wind was fresh, and Fred kept the "Jolly Sandboy" close to the water's edge, where the sand was the firmest. Every now and then a big wave would break ahead of them, and shoot a wide tongue of white crackling foam athwart the bows of the "beach-comber." But there was no time to make détours, and it was glorious fun, these short, sharp dashes through an acre of shallow water, with the wash filling the cockpit, and the salt spray flying over the head of the mainsail. Finally Cape Thunder loomed up ahead, and ten minutes later the "Jolly Sandboy" had swept around the point, and was ploughing across the treacherous Tom Tiddler's ground of Shut-in Bay.