How to stay in charge

I’VE SAID IT BEFORE and I’ll say it again: one of the loveliest aspects of sailing is being in full charge of a boat in heavy weather. It’s wonderful to be at the helm of a boat in a gale of wind, a boat that responds with fingertip control, rising buoyantly and firmly to oncoming waves, or surging confidently downwind on a white blanket of foam. In both cases, it’s the correct sail area for the strength of the wind that determines the amount of control you have, and therefore the ability to reef or changes to smaller sails.
And yet I can hardly believe the number of sailboats I see with no reef points on the mainsail — or, if they have rows of points, no reefing lines reeved, ready for action.
I am not talking about dedicated club racing boats, of course. They never reef if they’re just racing around the cans. And they are therefore never fully in control, either. The number of broaches and pitchpoles confirms that. No, I’m talking about family daysailers and ordinary weekend cruisers.
This lack of ability to reef always worries me. I regard reefing as an essential safety factor, especially in boats that normally carry a lot of weather helm. Many boats require to be sailed fairly upright if they are not to be overwhelmed by weather helm, but all too often, instead of properly reefed mainsails we see skippers simply spilling wind from the mainsail, using the so-called “fisherman’s reef,” allowing the sail to flog mercilessly and strain the mast and rigging to breaking point. It’s panicky, heartstopping stuff, and you can’t carry on for long like that.
Because of the problems with reefing the mainsail, many skippers start by rolling up the jib. In most cases, that shifts to center of effort aft, thus adding to weather helm and lessening what control the helm has left.
The ability to reef the mainsail quickly and easily is, as I said, an important safety feature, especially for singlehanders. And, without it, you’ll never experience that snug feeling in heavy weather of quiet power and control, that wonderful feeling of being in charge of a calm, powerful, and almost-sentient being when Nature is throwing its worst at you.
Today’s Thought
He that will use all winds must shift his sail.
--John Fletcher, Faithful Shepherdess.
Tailpiece
“You should give up smoking.”
“Why?”
“It takes years off your life.”
“Nonsense. I’ve smoked since I was 16 and I’m 60 now. What do you say to that?”
“Well, don’t you see? If you’d never smoked you might be 70 by now.”
(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for another Mainly about Boats column.)

The fourteen-dollar reef

PERHAPS THE QUESTION most asked by newcomers to sailing is: “When is it time to reef?”

The best answer was given by Thomas Fleming Day in his book On Yachts and Yacht Handling, published in 1901. Day was then the renowned editor of one of America’s most successful yachting magazines, The Rudder.

So, when is it time to reef?

“It is always time to reef when you think it is,” declared Day. “The moment you would feel easier and your boat handle better by having less sail spread, is the time to shorten down. Never mind what anybody else is doing or what anybody else tells you. It is your boat, not some other boat that is worrying you; and you yourself, and not some other person, who is in charge.

“Never carry sail for the sake of carrying it; the ignorant may praise your recklessness and pluck, but the experienced man will call you either a lubber or a fool.

“Never let the action of another guide you in this particular, unless the action agrees with your own judgment. It is very common for young sailors to reef or not reef as they see some other man, and consequently to carry sail much to the risk of their vessel and lives.

“You must remember that these remarks of mine have nothing to do with racing. In racing, a man cannot reef when he wants to, but when he can; therefore, he frequently carries sail when he would give a good slice of his daily income to have it off, and often keeps in his reefs when he would like to shake them out, but does not for the same reason. Then, again, in racing, boats are always in company, and if an accident happens someone is close aboard to give assistance; but in cruising this is not so, and many a life has been lost for want of a reef in time.

“When I was young and fresh I had an idea that if anyone could carry sail on a boat I could do the same. One day I had a lesson that made me think, and partially cured me of the habit.

“I went with a clever old boatman across the Sound to bring home a new cat. We each took a crew, and, to return, he sailed the new boat, and I the one we had come over in. Halfway across it came on to blow very hard, and it was all I could do to keep my boat on her feet. My crew wanted me to stop and reef, but as the new boat kept on I insisted upon following her, being afraid that the old man would laugh at me. In plain talk, I was afraid of being thought a coward, and for this I jeopardized my own and the lives of the other boys.

“When at last, after a struggle and half full of water, we reached port, the old man met me with a torrent of invectives, calling me a fool and several other hard names for not reefing.

“’But you didn’t reef,” I protested. ‘Reef!’ he exclaimed. ‘No, for I couldn’t; but I’d have given fourteen dollars if I could have got that sail down. Do you think I was carrying whole sail for fun?’ It seems that the halliards, being new, had jammed, and they could not get the sail down, so had to lug it. This taught me a lesson, one that I have never forgotten; and oftentimes when I see a man struggling along under too much sail, I wonder if he, like the old boatman, wouldn’t give fourteen dollars if he could get that sail down.”

 Today’s Thought

We accomplish more by prudence than  by force.

— Tacitus, Annals

Tailpiece

A friend who spotted an attractive woman at a party went up to introduce himself. “Gentlemen prefer blondes,” he said.
The woman blushed. “I have a confession to make,” she told him, “I’m not really a blonde.”
“That’s wonderful,” he said. “I also have a confession to make. I’m not really a gentleman.”

(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)

The joy of reefing

ONE OF THE LOVELIEST aspects of sailing concerns being in full charge of a boat in heavy weather. It’s wonderful to be at the helm of a responsive boat in a gale of wind, a boat that responds with fingertip control, rising buoyantly and firmly to oncoming waves, or surging confidently downwind on a white blanket of foam. In both cases, it’s the correct sail area for the strength of the wind that determines the amount of control you have, and therefore the ability to reef or changes to smaller sails.

And yet I can hardly believe the number of sailboats I see with no reef points on the mainsail — or, if they have rows of points, no reefing lines reeved, ready for action.

I am not talking about dedicated club racing boats, of course. They never reef if they’re just racing around the cans. And they are therefore never fully in control, either. The number of broaches and pitchpoles confirms that. No, I’m talking about family daysailers and ordinary weekend cruisers.

This lack of ability to reef always worries me. I regard reefing as an essential safety factor, especially in boats that normally carry a lot of weather helm. Many boats require to be sailed fairly upright if they are not to be overwhelmed by weather helm, but all too often, instead of properly reefed mainsails we see skippers simply spilling wind from the mainsail, using the so-called “fisherman’s reef,” allowing the sail to flog mercilessly and strain the mast and rigging to breaking point. It’s panicky, heartstopping stuff, and you can’t carry on for long like that.

Because of the problems with reefing the mainsail, many skippers start by rolling up the jib. In most cases, that shifts to center of effort aft, thus adding to weather helm and lessening what control the helm has left.

The ability to reef the mainsail quickly and easily is, as I said, an important safety feature, especially for singlehanders. And, without it, you’ll never experience that snug feeling in heavy weather of quiet power and control, that wonderful feeling of being in charge of a calm, powerful, and almost-sentient being when Nature is throwing its worst at you.

Today’s Thought
He that will use all winds must shift his sail.
--John Fletcher, Faithful Shepherdess.

Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #230
Longitudinal cracks in wooden spars do no appreciably weaken a mast or boom. They are a sign that, in fact, that the wood is not “dead” or abnormally brittle. The rule of thumb is that if you want to fill the cracks for aesthetic reasons, do not use any material that sets hard, and make sure the wood is perfectly dry before you apply it.

Tailpiece
“You should give up smoking.”
“Why?”
“It takes years off your life.”
“Nonsense. I’ve smoked since I was 16 and I’m 60 now. What do you say to that?”
“Well, don’t you see? If you’d never smoked you might be 70 by now.”

(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)

Is a third reef necessary?

EVERY NOW AND THEN some cruising sailor gets caught out in a gale and comes home wondering out loud if the mainsail should have a third reef. The advice comes pouring in from all sides, and it’s usually contradictory and confusing.

Racing skippers will tell you they never reef. Well, hardly ever. But it’s different for them. They don’t care if their mainsails flog themselves to bits on the beat. They’re going to buy new sails next season anyhow. And they’ve got large muscular crews with highly developed clinging powers, so they won’t fall overboard when the boat broaches and the mast hits the water.

Some sailmakers aren’t much use, either. A contributor to one bulletin board I read recently said his sailmaker simply refused to put a third reef in the mainsail for his 26-foot full-keeler. “He said the extra sailcloth and grommets involved would screw up my main's light-air performance. I would add too much ‘stuff’ (weight, hardware, etc.) up high, where I don't want it. And would not let the leech open up properly in light air.” Well, to put it delicately, this is pure poppycock, of course. That sailmaker has been brain-washed by racing skippers.

However, I personally don’t believe a boat of average displacement under 35 feet in length is going to benefit from a third reef in storm conditions in the open ocean. Perhaps that reef might help in calm water near shore, but it’s not going to generate enough power to push a boat to windward in the big seas a storm generates.

My preference is for two oversized reefs on a boat of that size, and when things become too hectic for the second reef you have three choices: lie a-hull, heave to under a main trysail, or run off, either under a storm jib or under bare poles.

Now when it comes to bigger boats, a third reef can make sense. The difference here is that a big boat not only finds it easier to carry its way against big waves, but it also can carry comparatively more sail to drive it to windward. That’s because stability (hence the power to carry sail) increases as a cube of the boat’s length, while the force of the wind increases only as a square of its speed.

So, while a 40-footer is only 62 percent longer than a 25-footer, it can carry 410 percent more sail for the same degree of stability. That means a third reef in a 40-footer is comparatively much bigger than a third reef in a 25-footer, and is thus able to generate a comparatively greater amount of power.

I once had a third reef added to my main on a 31-foot heavy displacement sloop. I went through seven gales with that boat and never used my third reef once. I thought it would substitute for a main trysail, but by the time the third reef was down, the center of effort had moved too far forward. The heavy wind against the mast and rigging simply blew the bows off and she wouldn’t heave to. That’s what a trysail is all about. It gets sail area well aft, so the stern will blow to leeward and the boat will end up lying pointing at an angle of 60 or 70 degrees off the oncoming wind and waves. That’s the safest, most comfortable position until the boat starts to be picked up bodily and hurled down sideways.

Finally, let me repeat the three basic rules of thumb about the timing of reefing:
1. Reef before you have to.
2. When sailing downwind, reef in the same wind speed you would if you were beating. (Not easy either to judge or to do, but very necessary.)
3. When in doubt, go straight to the double reef.

Today’s Thought
The tempest’s howl, it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine.
— Burns, Winter: A Dirge

Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #152
WHEN to reef? Before you lose control. On the wind, the signs are pretty obvious: sidedecks awash, dreadful weather helm, and lack of response to the helm. Downwind, watch for prolonged surfing and a sloppy, dead feeling to the helm when a waves passes underneath the stern. Time to slow down.

Après moi, le déluge
I’M PLEASED and astonished to report that new Followers have been flocking around in hordes to compensate for the fickle Follower who left me for greener pastures (long may he rot). The Follower count is now up to a record 37. I am a happy man.

Tailpiece
“Hey, do me a favor, willya? Stick your head out the window and see if my turn signals are working.”
“Okay.”
“Well, are they working?”
“Yes — no — yes — no — yes — no —”

(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for a new Mainly about Boats column.)