Running down the wind, however, calls for the more skillful seamanship, and involves a closer calculation of chances. Not many years ago, when a fleet of ice-yachts sailed down the wind, it was a straight run with lifted sheets, but after a while some bright fellow discovered that by putting his boat on the wind at her very best point for speed, she would in a few seconds attain a maximum velocity. Then, bearing away, she would run sometimes for several minutes through the wind, her pennant flying out astern, and she sliding past her free-sailing competitors at an astonishing rate.

FIG. 4.—A CLOSE CALL.

Fig. 5 roughly shows the comparative courses of two ice-yachts, A running dead to leeward and B tacking after the method described. The proportions between the tacks across the wind and the runs through it cannot be preserved on so small a map; but it is evident that B traverses a far longer course. That she invariably beats A, other things being equal, is the unanimous testimony of all practical ice sailors. In other words, if a balloon could be persuaded to drift down the wind at a convenient height above the ice, B could let it have a fair start, and could, if properly handled, sail completely around it in a run of two or three miles.

This “proper handling,” however, is not so simple as it seems. It involves an intimate knowledge of and sympathy with one’s boat. Her best point of sailing varies with every variation in the force of the wind, and her skipper should know by instinct exactly when she is doing her very best under existing conditions. She must not be forced so that she will lift her weather runner clear of the ice, for the moment that runner lifts the grip of the lee runner weakens, and the yacht is in danger of making leeway. She must not be turned too sharply, for the rudder checks her headway, and so does the lateral resistance that she encounters while changing directions. A knowledge of the course is of vital importance. Instead of the currents and tide-rips of summer, the winter yachtsman must be familiar with the “windrows,” air-holes, cracks, ice-imbedded drift-wood, and the like, that beset his course. After every storm these are liable to change and new obstructions from similar causes likely to appear. Hence every tack must be calculated to a nicety, so that the next change of direction can be made to the best advantage.

When running for the stake it is important to gauge headway so that the turn can be made without being carried too far beyond the mark; and here again a personal knowledge of the boat and her whims is indispensable for nice seamanship. In the excitement of the moment one may readily lose control, and it is said to be a good plan to slack away the peak halyards a trifle just before rounding. This enables the rudder to act with certainty, and as soon as the turn has been made the halyards can be again hauled taut. This operation necessitates the best modern appliances in the way of hoisting-tackle, for the halyards all lead aft to the “box,” and one man should be able to slack away or haul taut with one hand. Then, of course, there are all the devices known to sailing experts intensified a hundred-fold by the altered conditions.

FIG. 5.

An absolutely even start can always be had since the contestants can be held at anchor till the signal is given, though, of course, the windward position gives an advantage. Once under way seamanship and knowledge of the course begin to tell, and bold maneuvering may quite as often win a race as in the slower evolutions of regular sailing craft. The swiftness with which any plan can be executed renders the game extremely exciting. One sees an opponent making a short and seemingly unnecessary tack. The natural results must be comprehended instantly or, peradventure, one may find one’s self presently forced to yield the right of way when every second is of the last importance. It is jockeying, perhaps, but when one knows that by crowding a dangerous rival a trifle he will be forced to tack a mile farther on by an insurmountable windrow, one were more than mortal to resist the temptation. It calls for quick thinking and equally quick action to sail an ice-yacht successfully and well in a modern regatta; but the excitement is of the wildest description, and all the accessories are fascinating in the extreme to one who has robust health and does not care a rap for exposure in a northern midwinter.

Our frontispiece is from an instantaneous photograph which caught the Northern Light (holder at the time of the Challenge Pennant) just as she was rounding the home stake, off Poughkeepsie, on Valentine’s Day, 1887. She was probably moving at the rate of twenty miles an hour when the picture was taken. The sleet thrown up by her lee runner can be seen flying off astern. Her weather runner was, in fact, just clear of the ice at the moment, though so slightly as to be imperceptible in the picture. This is probably the best photograph of a moving ice-yacht that has ever been taken.