EVER SINCE I READ ABOUT Marvin Creamer’s voyage around the world without navigational instruments of any kind, I’ve been wondering how he actually did it. I mean, how in fact did he deduce his latitude by eyeball only?
His explanation for the great unwashed public was simple. The former East Coast geography professor said he observed when a particular star was directly overhead. At that moment, the star’s declination (published in navigation tables) equaled the observer’s latitude.
If, at the time of observation, the star was not directly overhead but at least passing over his meridian, it must have been on a line either directly north or south of him. Then he simply estimated its angular distance away from directly overhead and converted that to miles, one degree being the equivalent of 60 nautical miles.
Yeah, right. The theory is sound . . . but the practice? Can you imagine standing on the heaving deck of a small sailboat at sea, hanging on for dear life, craning your neck upwards, squinting around the mainsail, and trying to judge when a star’s meridian transit occurs? How did Creamer do that? Well, I found the answer, or some of it, in the appendix to his book.
Apparently he drew an imaginary line from the polar point to the star before its transit. He extended that line in both directions and then he waited until that imaginary line divided the sky into two equal halves.
Okay, that’s the (very) approximate time of meridian passage, but how did he tell if the star was directly overhead or not?
“The observer should fix his shoulders in a north-south direction, stare upward, fix an imaginary zenith point and then make a zenith distance judgment.”
Hmmm. He makes it sound so easy.
“Normally an observer has a bias to his left or right,” Creamer continues, “which will affect where he ‘sees’ the star. By averaging two sights, one facing east and the other west, he can fix a point for the star and estimate his latitude based on the star’s declination.”
Creamer was in his late 60s when he sailed around the world via Cape Horn without even a compass or a watch. All I can say is that he was a very special and very gifted type of navigator. He also had his fair share of good luck. That, he explained, consisted of not having bad luck at dangerous times.
After his voyage was over, he discovered that his latitude estimates were within 100 miles of true latitude 68 percent of the time, and within 200 miles 95 percent of the time.
So, what next? you ask. What act can possibly follow that, to startle and amaze us all?
Why, blindfolded, of course. Yes, now someone needs to sail around the world blindfolded. And alone, naturally. And non-stop. And be under 15 years old.
Nothing less will startle and amaze us now. I’m afraid Creamer has desensitized us.
Today’s Thought
Journeys, like artists, are born and not made. A thousand differing circumstances contribute to them, few of them willed or determined by the will — whatever we may think.
— Lawrence Durrell
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #115
Best keel shape. For the best windward work, a deep narrow keel is more efficient than a wide shallow one. The maximum cross-sectional width should be about 35 to 45 percent of the chord aft of the leading edge and it should be tapered smoothly to a fine edge — then either cut off bluntly at right angles or rounded to a small radius.
Tailpiece
“How long did it take your son to learn to drive your car?”
“Oh, three or four.”
“Weeks or months?”
“Cars.”
November 2, 2010
October 31, 2010
Trusting your crew
A FRIEND OF A FRIEND is dreaming of crossing the Pacific under sail. He normally holds down a highly technical and well-paid job, but he’s out of work right now and not likely to be hired again until the economy improves.
However, he is a frugal man and has husbanded his resources. So now he’s thinking that this might not a bad time to turn his dream into reality.
His loyal wife, who crews for him on their 32-foot cruising sloop, is happy to go along with him, but he is worried about his two daughters, aged 16 and 14.
“If they were boys I wouldn’t have a moment’s hesitation,” he says, “but I’m not sure girls will be able to handle the hardships.”
Well, I don’t know these daughters of his, of course, but I can’t help thinking it’s a bit old-fashioned to regard girls as lacking in the ability to handle crew duties aboard yachts. What they might lack in brute strength they surely make up for in ingenuity. You only have to be able to read to know that girls of 15 and 16 are sailing bigger yachts than his around the world on their own these days.
Besides, boys don’t always make ideal crews anyway. The last time I crossed an ocean with a son, who was then 17 years old, I lost a lot of sleep worrying about him.
As we were the only two watchkeepers, he had specific orders to call me if he spotted another vessel at night. He had specific orders to call me if he thought a sail change was necessary. He had specific orders to wear a harness and tether when he was alone in the cockpit at night.
But he was 17. He was becoming a man. He couldn’t help himself. Nature was pumping testosterone through his tissues. He didn’t obey any of those orders. Although he was color blind, he guided us through a fleet of fishing boats one dark night way out in the South Atlantic while my wife and I slept below. I nearly had a fit when I found out.
And when we were running fast in the southeast trades I was woken up one night by the thud of footsteps running forward along the cabintop. My untethered son was jibing the foresail singlehanded, shifting the pole from one side to the other. I lay awake, staring into the darkness, listening to the noises, waiting for the thuds that would indicate he was returning to the safety of the cockpit. But they never came. Had he gone overboard? I reasoned — I hoped — that he had returned along the side deck. I wanted to get up and peek out of the companionway hatch, but I didn’t want him to know that I had caught him in an act of disobedience because that would have forced me to impose disciplinary punishment or else lose my power of authority over him, such as it was. So I lay there fretting for another half hour until it was time to go on watch and I could decently make an appearance. And there he was, sitting in the cockpit, neatly buckled up and looking the picture of innocence in the moonlight. I could have bitten him. But I didn’t ask him why the jib pole was suddenly on the other side.
I don’t think a girl would have disobeyed her father/skipper like that. Girls don’t have the same impulse to prove they’re macho.
Or do they? Maybe now I’m the one who’s acting old-fashioned. Well, if I am, I can’t help it. Old-fashioned is what I am. Like it or lump it. But my advice to the friend of a friend is simple: Go for it. Invest some trust in those daughters of yours. I’m sure it will be amply repaid.
Today’s Thought
A man who trusts nobody is apt to be the kind of man nobody trusts.
— Harold Macmillan
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #114
Size of keel bolts. If your keel is held in place by bronze bolts, those bolts should have a cross-sectional area of not less than 1 square inch in total for every 1,500 pounds of outside ballast. This is valid for bolt material with a tensile strength of at least 60,000 pounds per square inch. Bolts made of stronger metal such as Monel or stainless steel can be correspondingly smaller.
Tailpiece
Did you hear about the short-sighted moth who blundered into a 2-year-old’s birthday party? He burned his end at both candles.
However, he is a frugal man and has husbanded his resources. So now he’s thinking that this might not a bad time to turn his dream into reality.
His loyal wife, who crews for him on their 32-foot cruising sloop, is happy to go along with him, but he is worried about his two daughters, aged 16 and 14.
“If they were boys I wouldn’t have a moment’s hesitation,” he says, “but I’m not sure girls will be able to handle the hardships.”
Well, I don’t know these daughters of his, of course, but I can’t help thinking it’s a bit old-fashioned to regard girls as lacking in the ability to handle crew duties aboard yachts. What they might lack in brute strength they surely make up for in ingenuity. You only have to be able to read to know that girls of 15 and 16 are sailing bigger yachts than his around the world on their own these days.
Besides, boys don’t always make ideal crews anyway. The last time I crossed an ocean with a son, who was then 17 years old, I lost a lot of sleep worrying about him.
As we were the only two watchkeepers, he had specific orders to call me if he spotted another vessel at night. He had specific orders to call me if he thought a sail change was necessary. He had specific orders to wear a harness and tether when he was alone in the cockpit at night.
But he was 17. He was becoming a man. He couldn’t help himself. Nature was pumping testosterone through his tissues. He didn’t obey any of those orders. Although he was color blind, he guided us through a fleet of fishing boats one dark night way out in the South Atlantic while my wife and I slept below. I nearly had a fit when I found out.
And when we were running fast in the southeast trades I was woken up one night by the thud of footsteps running forward along the cabintop. My untethered son was jibing the foresail singlehanded, shifting the pole from one side to the other. I lay awake, staring into the darkness, listening to the noises, waiting for the thuds that would indicate he was returning to the safety of the cockpit. But they never came. Had he gone overboard? I reasoned — I hoped — that he had returned along the side deck. I wanted to get up and peek out of the companionway hatch, but I didn’t want him to know that I had caught him in an act of disobedience because that would have forced me to impose disciplinary punishment or else lose my power of authority over him, such as it was. So I lay there fretting for another half hour until it was time to go on watch and I could decently make an appearance. And there he was, sitting in the cockpit, neatly buckled up and looking the picture of innocence in the moonlight. I could have bitten him. But I didn’t ask him why the jib pole was suddenly on the other side.
I don’t think a girl would have disobeyed her father/skipper like that. Girls don’t have the same impulse to prove they’re macho.
Or do they? Maybe now I’m the one who’s acting old-fashioned. Well, if I am, I can’t help it. Old-fashioned is what I am. Like it or lump it. But my advice to the friend of a friend is simple: Go for it. Invest some trust in those daughters of yours. I’m sure it will be amply repaid.
Today’s Thought
A man who trusts nobody is apt to be the kind of man nobody trusts.
— Harold Macmillan
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #114
Size of keel bolts. If your keel is held in place by bronze bolts, those bolts should have a cross-sectional area of not less than 1 square inch in total for every 1,500 pounds of outside ballast. This is valid for bolt material with a tensile strength of at least 60,000 pounds per square inch. Bolts made of stronger metal such as Monel or stainless steel can be correspondingly smaller.
Tailpiece
Did you hear about the short-sighted moth who blundered into a 2-year-old’s birthday party? He burned his end at both candles.
October 28, 2010
Message from the foredeck
SCIENTIFIC PROGRESS is a wonderful thing. We now have small radio headsets that send and receive voice messages over short distances, presumably to save people the trouble of raising their voices.
I first became aware of them in a quiet anchorage on the west side of Vancouver Island a few years back. They were on the heads of an elderly couple who were preparing to raise the anchor of their chunky 35-foot, full-keel sloop. He was on the foredeck managing the ground tackle, a balding man in blue jeans. She was in the cockpit, behind the wheel, managing the engine controls, a large lady in pink shorts.
I don’t know why they needed headsets. I could hear every word.
“Come to port, Martha,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Port, Martha, port. Left, dammit. Ring finger, Martha, ring finger.”
“Okay. Don’t shout.”
“I’m NOT shouting . . . MARTHA! You’re going RIGHT. Come LEFT.”
“I AM coming left.”
“MARTHA, for chrissake face FORWARD when you want to come left. Left, dammit, quickly, LEFT!”
To avoid that kind of debacle, my wife and I worked out a simple system of hand signals for anchor raising. For example, when I wanted her to turn to port, I simply held out my port hand. It worked fine for us but it occurred to me recently that we always overlook one of the most ancient and effective methods of conveying messages on board ship, one that cuts through raging storms, engine din, and even cannons blasting. I’m talking about the bosun’s pipe.
Furnished with a pipe up there on the foredeck, old baldy could have whistled up a storm of explicit instructions. In the old days, the bosun and his mates used to issue about 50 different commands from this shrill whistle with its two basic notes and its three distinctive tones (straight whistle, warble, and trill).
For the man on the foredeck, the advantages are many; perhaps the greatest of which is that the person in the cockpit can’t answer back. Then, also, there’s the fact that nobody else in the anchorage will understand what you’re talking about. As long as the person at the wheel knows that phweet-phwip-phwip means “You’re a congenital idiot,” that’s all that matters.
And, of course, a pipe needs no batteries. You don’t have to memorize an instruction manual. It’s cheap. It’s practically indestructible, and it has a romantic connection to the history of the sea stretching back centuries.
If you’d like to hear a couple of traditional commands and learn more about the bosun’s pipe, or bosun's call as it's also known, just click here:
http://www.chesapeakepicaroons.org/Boatswain_pipe/BoatswainsPipe.html
Today’s Thought
Evil communications corrupt good character.
— Menander, Thais: Fragment
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #113
Strain on jib sheet. To find the force applied to the sheet by a jib or forestaysail, multiply the sail area in square feet by the wind speed in knots squared. Then divide the answer by 232. This will give you the approximate pull on the sheet in pounds.
Tailpiece
President Obama is punting his new family budget plan. It makes sure you can pay as you go — as long as you don’t go anywhere.
October 26, 2010
A noteworthy turning point
WHAT WOULD YOU SAY is the most unappreciated part of a sailboat, the one that’s invariably overlooked and neglected, but without which the boat simply cannot function? Yes, that’s right, it’s the rudder.
It’s out of sight (apart from the few stern-hung rudders still around) and it’s largely out of mind. It’s a truly modest and uncomplaining piece of equipment, one that doesn’t need to be fed constantly with expensive diesel fuel, one that never goes flat and needs charging, one that never has to be taken to the sewage pump-out every week, or varnished every six months.
It is a marvel of efficiency; and also a marvel of such simplicity that you have to wonder why it took so many hundreds of years to make an appearance on sea-going ships.
The ancient Phoenicians, the Romans, and even the Vikings, used steering boards — oars or paddles, usually hung from the right-hand quarter. (Hence the starboard -- steerboard -- side. The other side was the side that rested against the port, so the steerboard wouldn’t be damaged.)
It wasn’t until 1242 A.D. that pictorial evidence appeared of a centerline rudder on a ship in Europe. It was, if you’ll forgive me, a turning point in marine design. Apparently this new-fangled invention was received with such enthusiasm that it was quickly adopted by shipbuilders all over the world. Pintles and gudgeons suddenly became household words.
How does the rudder work? Well, in the crudest of terms, if you push it to one side, the water flowing past strikes that side with more force than it strikes the other, so the rudder tends to be pushed sideways, taking the stern with it.
I often marvel at the way a tiny rudder can turn a 250,000-ton oil tanker; although, lurking in the back of my mind somewhere is something vague I once read about the rudder only initiating the turn, and the ship’s hull itself acting to reinforce the turning moment, as might a wedge driven through the water.
While most rudders lurk quietly and invisibly beneath their mother ships, the importance of their roles has not been lost on naval architects, physicists, and engineers. The design and performance of rudders is the subject of countless scientific papers and even whole books. In this respect, if you should wish to develop your latent rudder fetish, get hold of a book called The Development of the Rudder, by Lawrence V. Mott. It’s a fascinating and lavishly illustrated volume of nautical archaeology that digs deep into the conception of the modern rudder, starting with its crude but rather interesting parents in various parts of the world.
Even if you don’t find yourself entirely enthralled by rudders, it will help while away large parts of the cold and soggy winter we’re expecting around here, thanks to La blasted Niña.
Red faces over snakes
THERE was some editorial embarrassment at the Walnut Street Gazeout (should be Gazette) this week. You’ll recall that an inmate was asking for help in finding a book called The Tactics of Small Boa Tracing.
Well, it turns out that either his handwriting was illegible, or his contact down the row doesn’t read too well. The book in question is actually The Tactics of Small Boat Racing, by Stuart H. Walker, MD. It’s still available, and any decent bookstore can order it for you.
Today’s Thought
The ancient sailor said this to Neptune in a great storm, “O God, thou shalt save me if thou please, if not, thou shalt lose me; yet will I keep my rudder true.”
— Montaigne, Essays
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #112
Rudder efficiency. The average sailboat rudder will stall and lose efficiency if it is put over more than 35 degrees from dead ahead. In fact, it will act as a good brake if you are approaching a dock too fast and you can put it over to 90 degrees, first one side and then the other.
Tailpiece
“And you, madam, what’s your husband’s average income?”
“Oh, usually well after midnight.”
(Drop by Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
It’s out of sight (apart from the few stern-hung rudders still around) and it’s largely out of mind. It’s a truly modest and uncomplaining piece of equipment, one that doesn’t need to be fed constantly with expensive diesel fuel, one that never goes flat and needs charging, one that never has to be taken to the sewage pump-out every week, or varnished every six months.
It is a marvel of efficiency; and also a marvel of such simplicity that you have to wonder why it took so many hundreds of years to make an appearance on sea-going ships.
The ancient Phoenicians, the Romans, and even the Vikings, used steering boards — oars or paddles, usually hung from the right-hand quarter. (Hence the starboard -- steerboard -- side. The other side was the side that rested against the port, so the steerboard wouldn’t be damaged.)
It wasn’t until 1242 A.D. that pictorial evidence appeared of a centerline rudder on a ship in Europe. It was, if you’ll forgive me, a turning point in marine design. Apparently this new-fangled invention was received with such enthusiasm that it was quickly adopted by shipbuilders all over the world. Pintles and gudgeons suddenly became household words.
How does the rudder work? Well, in the crudest of terms, if you push it to one side, the water flowing past strikes that side with more force than it strikes the other, so the rudder tends to be pushed sideways, taking the stern with it.
I often marvel at the way a tiny rudder can turn a 250,000-ton oil tanker; although, lurking in the back of my mind somewhere is something vague I once read about the rudder only initiating the turn, and the ship’s hull itself acting to reinforce the turning moment, as might a wedge driven through the water.
While most rudders lurk quietly and invisibly beneath their mother ships, the importance of their roles has not been lost on naval architects, physicists, and engineers. The design and performance of rudders is the subject of countless scientific papers and even whole books. In this respect, if you should wish to develop your latent rudder fetish, get hold of a book called The Development of the Rudder, by Lawrence V. Mott. It’s a fascinating and lavishly illustrated volume of nautical archaeology that digs deep into the conception of the modern rudder, starting with its crude but rather interesting parents in various parts of the world.
Even if you don’t find yourself entirely enthralled by rudders, it will help while away large parts of the cold and soggy winter we’re expecting around here, thanks to La blasted Niña.
Red faces over snakes
THERE was some editorial embarrassment at the Walnut Street Gazeout (should be Gazette) this week. You’ll recall that an inmate was asking for help in finding a book called The Tactics of Small Boa Tracing.
Well, it turns out that either his handwriting was illegible, or his contact down the row doesn’t read too well. The book in question is actually The Tactics of Small Boat Racing, by Stuart H. Walker, MD. It’s still available, and any decent bookstore can order it for you.
Today’s Thought
The ancient sailor said this to Neptune in a great storm, “O God, thou shalt save me if thou please, if not, thou shalt lose me; yet will I keep my rudder true.”
— Montaigne, Essays
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #112
Rudder efficiency. The average sailboat rudder will stall and lose efficiency if it is put over more than 35 degrees from dead ahead. In fact, it will act as a good brake if you are approaching a dock too fast and you can put it over to 90 degrees, first one side and then the other.
Tailpiece
“And you, madam, what’s your husband’s average income?”
“Oh, usually well after midnight.”
(Drop by Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
October 24, 2010
Snake tracing request
A LETTER TO THE EDITOR of the Walnut Street Gazeout (should be Gazette) says:
Dear Editor:
Yesterday I received a message from a cell just down the row from me. This guy is new and I don’t know him yet, but he heard I was familiar with the way to get a letter in the Gazeout. (Which I should be, seeing as how I was a newspaper reporter before I was let go and had to turn to bank robbery as a way of retrieving my taxes from the government.)
Anyway, to cut it short, this guy is looking for a certain book to help him improve his favorite pastime. Or what used to be his favorite pastime before.
He says this book is called The Tactics of Small Boa Tracing, by Stuart H. Walker, MD. If anyone knows where he can lay hands on a copy, please get in touch with me and I will pass on the message.
Seems to me like he has a peculiar pastime; but who am I to judge, I always say. Tracing small boas sounds like dangerous work, and if you catch one what do you do with it? Is this just practice for catching bigger boas or what?
Yours in carceration,
Stompie Fagend,
Block 4, Cell 35a
Today’s Thought
I’m in favor of every religion, with the possible exception of snake-chunking. Anybody that so presumes on how he stands with Providence that he will let a snake bite him, I say he deserves what he’s got coming to him.
— Earl Long, former governor of Louisiana
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #111
Inverter size. If you use an inverter to bump up your battery’s 12 volts to the 120 volts you need for a TV, computer, microwave etc., here’s the way to figure out the correct size. Just multiply your battery bank’s maximum number of amp-hours by 5 to get the inverter’s maximum output in watts.
Tailpiece
Things of beauty
Often shake up
Men who view them
Minus make-up.
(Watch out every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
Dear Editor:
Yesterday I received a message from a cell just down the row from me. This guy is new and I don’t know him yet, but he heard I was familiar with the way to get a letter in the Gazeout. (Which I should be, seeing as how I was a newspaper reporter before I was let go and had to turn to bank robbery as a way of retrieving my taxes from the government.)
Anyway, to cut it short, this guy is looking for a certain book to help him improve his favorite pastime. Or what used to be his favorite pastime before.
He says this book is called The Tactics of Small Boa Tracing, by Stuart H. Walker, MD. If anyone knows where he can lay hands on a copy, please get in touch with me and I will pass on the message.
Seems to me like he has a peculiar pastime; but who am I to judge, I always say. Tracing small boas sounds like dangerous work, and if you catch one what do you do with it? Is this just practice for catching bigger boas or what?
Yours in carceration,
Stompie Fagend,
Block 4, Cell 35a
Today’s Thought
I’m in favor of every religion, with the possible exception of snake-chunking. Anybody that so presumes on how he stands with Providence that he will let a snake bite him, I say he deserves what he’s got coming to him.
— Earl Long, former governor of Louisiana
Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #111
Inverter size. If you use an inverter to bump up your battery’s 12 volts to the 120 volts you need for a TV, computer, microwave etc., here’s the way to figure out the correct size. Just multiply your battery bank’s maximum number of amp-hours by 5 to get the inverter’s maximum output in watts.
Tailpiece
Things of beauty
Often shake up
Men who view them
Minus make-up.
(Watch out every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
October 21, 2010
Cruising hygiene
DO MEN CHANGE THEIR UNDERPANTS while cruising? A young woman reader in Dade County, Florida, wants to know. Geraldine says her new boyfriend has invited her on a six-week cruise to the Bahamas on his Cape Dory 25D sailboat. She has not sailed before, but she is fine with everything — except what she suspects might be a hygiene problem.
Do men on small boats change their socks? she asks.
Do they EVER wash ANY clothes?
Do they wash their hands after going to the head?
Do men brush their teeth morning and night?
Do they ever change the bed sheets?
Do they even HAVE bed sheets?
Well, Geraldine, you have poked your little stick into a big hornets’ nest here. Obviously I can’t answer for all cruising men, and as far as I know nobody has conducted research into this subject. But if it’s any comfort, as far as I know, not many cruising men die from bubonic plague or big bad germs in the gut.
I can only tell you of my own experience of long-term cruising and the answer to your first question is yes, men do change their underpants every day, one pair a day for seven days. Then, on the eight day they start over. The theory is that the underpants have aired for a whole week, which is plenty of time for any germs to jump off and go somewhere else.
Socks? Mostly we don’t wear socks, but even if we do, we only have two pairs. They’re good for seven days before rotation. We don’t walk anywhere, you see, so there’s no sweat or anything objectionable. You’ll notice that no men ever complain about other men’s socks.
Washing clothes? Well that depends on the availability of fresh water (very rare) and a place to do the washing (also rare). It depends on the weather and the amount of rail space available for drying. It depends when you can find the time, when you have a whole lot of other things to do (such as steering around rocks and anchoring and reefing and navigation) that are a lot more important than washing clothes. So, in short, the answer is . . . well I have known one or two men who have washed some cruising clothes, so it’s not completely unknown.
As for washing hands after using the head, I have to assure you that it’s a distinct possibility in a boat like yours that has a wash basin in the head. Of course, most men won’t use it for fear of running out of fresh water, but at least there is a definite possibility; and that surely must cut down on the odds of disease erupting.
Do men brush their teeth morning and night? Geraldine, I think it is a scientifically accepted fact that as long as you break up the plaque every 24 hours, one brushing a day is sufficient. And, by happy discovery, a large body of cruising men has confirmed that swilling the mouth with gin just before bed is equally as efficient in the prevention of caries as is brushing with toothpaste.
As for bed sheets, well that depends on the sissy factor. Real men don’t use bed sheets. They use rough, hairy, woollen blankets or sleeping bags designed for Mt. Everest. I confess that I have a sort of sheet for my sleeping bag, a removable cotton liner, but after you’ve slept in it for two months straight I’ve noticed that it seems to grow little lumps inside like a real woollen blanket, so it’s really quite macho and not as pooftah as you might think.
Geraldine, you can spend too much time worrying about hygiene. There are places in Europe where they only bath once a week. There are places in the Sahara where they never bath, and never shower either. It’s true that their average lifespan is 23 years, but nobody has ever actually proved it’s because of lack of hygiene.
On the whole, you will find that the cruising life is very healthy. Strong sunshine and salt water are very good at killing germs. And those few germs that don’t die immediately will surely succumb when they eventually drift down and get swallowed up by that seething, squirming mass of micro-wildlife in your bilge.
Go for it, Geraldine. Go for the beautiful beaches and the glorious crystal-clear water; go for the romantic tropical nights and the soft trade winds brushing the coconut palms with silver moonshine. And let hygiene take its chance.
Today’s Thought
A man’s own observation, what he finds good of and what he finds hurt of, is the best physic to preserve health.
— Bacon, Essays: Of Regimen of Health
Rules of Thumb, #110
Hurricane survival at sea. If you should ever be caught out in a small sailboat, remember that you can increase your odds of survival by following certain rules. Hurricanes have two sides, known as the dangerous semicircle and the navigable semicircle — navigable being a comparative term, of course.
In the dangerous semicircle, the whole system’s forward speed of movement is being added to the wind force. In the navigable semicircle, it is subtracted, which makes a large difference.
The dangerous semicircle lies on the right-hand side of the storm track in the Northern hemisphere, facing forward along the track, and the left side in the Southern Hemisphere. So, at the approach of a hurricane, make all possible speed toward the navigable semicircle, and hope for the best.
Tailpiece
A yacht club barman I know has invented a drink called the Block and Tackle. It’s one third whiskey, one third brandy, and one third vodka. After one drink you’re ready to run around the block and tackle anything.
(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
Do men on small boats change their socks? she asks.
Do they EVER wash ANY clothes?
Do they wash their hands after going to the head?
Do men brush their teeth morning and night?
Do they ever change the bed sheets?
Do they even HAVE bed sheets?
Well, Geraldine, you have poked your little stick into a big hornets’ nest here. Obviously I can’t answer for all cruising men, and as far as I know nobody has conducted research into this subject. But if it’s any comfort, as far as I know, not many cruising men die from bubonic plague or big bad germs in the gut.
I can only tell you of my own experience of long-term cruising and the answer to your first question is yes, men do change their underpants every day, one pair a day for seven days. Then, on the eight day they start over. The theory is that the underpants have aired for a whole week, which is plenty of time for any germs to jump off and go somewhere else.
Socks? Mostly we don’t wear socks, but even if we do, we only have two pairs. They’re good for seven days before rotation. We don’t walk anywhere, you see, so there’s no sweat or anything objectionable. You’ll notice that no men ever complain about other men’s socks.
Washing clothes? Well that depends on the availability of fresh water (very rare) and a place to do the washing (also rare). It depends on the weather and the amount of rail space available for drying. It depends when you can find the time, when you have a whole lot of other things to do (such as steering around rocks and anchoring and reefing and navigation) that are a lot more important than washing clothes. So, in short, the answer is . . . well I have known one or two men who have washed some cruising clothes, so it’s not completely unknown.
As for washing hands after using the head, I have to assure you that it’s a distinct possibility in a boat like yours that has a wash basin in the head. Of course, most men won’t use it for fear of running out of fresh water, but at least there is a definite possibility; and that surely must cut down on the odds of disease erupting.
Do men brush their teeth morning and night? Geraldine, I think it is a scientifically accepted fact that as long as you break up the plaque every 24 hours, one brushing a day is sufficient. And, by happy discovery, a large body of cruising men has confirmed that swilling the mouth with gin just before bed is equally as efficient in the prevention of caries as is brushing with toothpaste.
As for bed sheets, well that depends on the sissy factor. Real men don’t use bed sheets. They use rough, hairy, woollen blankets or sleeping bags designed for Mt. Everest. I confess that I have a sort of sheet for my sleeping bag, a removable cotton liner, but after you’ve slept in it for two months straight I’ve noticed that it seems to grow little lumps inside like a real woollen blanket, so it’s really quite macho and not as pooftah as you might think.
Geraldine, you can spend too much time worrying about hygiene. There are places in Europe where they only bath once a week. There are places in the Sahara where they never bath, and never shower either. It’s true that their average lifespan is 23 years, but nobody has ever actually proved it’s because of lack of hygiene.
On the whole, you will find that the cruising life is very healthy. Strong sunshine and salt water are very good at killing germs. And those few germs that don’t die immediately will surely succumb when they eventually drift down and get swallowed up by that seething, squirming mass of micro-wildlife in your bilge.
Go for it, Geraldine. Go for the beautiful beaches and the glorious crystal-clear water; go for the romantic tropical nights and the soft trade winds brushing the coconut palms with silver moonshine. And let hygiene take its chance.
Today’s Thought
A man’s own observation, what he finds good of and what he finds hurt of, is the best physic to preserve health.
— Bacon, Essays: Of Regimen of Health
Rules of Thumb, #110
Hurricane survival at sea. If you should ever be caught out in a small sailboat, remember that you can increase your odds of survival by following certain rules. Hurricanes have two sides, known as the dangerous semicircle and the navigable semicircle — navigable being a comparative term, of course.
In the dangerous semicircle, the whole system’s forward speed of movement is being added to the wind force. In the navigable semicircle, it is subtracted, which makes a large difference.
The dangerous semicircle lies on the right-hand side of the storm track in the Northern hemisphere, facing forward along the track, and the left side in the Southern Hemisphere. So, at the approach of a hurricane, make all possible speed toward the navigable semicircle, and hope for the best.
Tailpiece
A yacht club barman I know has invented a drink called the Block and Tackle. It’s one third whiskey, one third brandy, and one third vodka. After one drink you’re ready to run around the block and tackle anything.
(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
October 19, 2010
Trafalgar modernized
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| Thomas Whitcombe I DON’T OFTEN STEAL other people’s copy. But I did today. There was no credit line on the story I have for you today, so I don’t know who to thank, and in theory I shouldn’t use it, and I’m sorry in advance, and it’s very naughty of me, and I’m a bad boy and all that ... but what the hell, enough whining and kowtowing. Let’s get straight to it: The Battle of Trafalgar Updated Nelson: "Order the signal, Hardy." Hardy: "Aye, aye sir." Nelson: "Hold on, this isn't what I dictated to Flags. What's the meaning of this?" Hardy: "Sorry sir?" Nelson (reading aloud): "’England expects every person to do his or her duty, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, religious persuasion, or disability.’ What gobbledegook is this for God's sake?" Hardy: "Admiralty policy, I'm afraid, sir. We're an equal opportunities employer now. We had the devil's own job getting 'England' past the censors, lest it be considered racist." Nelson: "Gadzooks, Hardy. Hand me my pipe and tobacco." Hardy: "Sorry sir. All naval vessels have now been designated smoke-free working environments." Nelson: "In that case, break open the rum ration. Let us splice the mainbrace to steel the men before battle." Hardy: "The rum ration has been abolished, Admiral. It’s part of the Government's policy on binge drinking." Nelson: "Good heavens, Hardy. I suppose we'd better get on with it ... full speed ahead." Hardy: "I think you'll find that there's a 4-knot speed limit in this stretch of water." Nelson: "Damn it man! We are on the eve of the greatest sea battle in history. We must advance with all dispatch. Report from the crow's nest please." Hardy: "That won't be possible, sir." Nelson: "What?" Hardy: "Health and Safety have closed the crow's nest, sir. No harness; and they said that rope ladders don't meet regulations. They won't let anyone up there until a proper scaffolding can be erected." Nelson: "Then get me the ship's carpenter without delay, Hardy." Hardy: "He's busy knocking up a wheelchair access to the foredeck Admiral." Nelson: "Wheelchair access? I've never heard anything so absurd." Hardy: "Health and safety again, sir. We have to provide a barrier-free environment for the differently abled." Nelson: "Differently abled? I've only one arm and one eye and I refuse even to hear mention of the word. I didn't rise to the rank of admiral by playing the disability card." Hardy: "Actually, sir, you did. The Royal Navy is under-represented in the areas of visual impairment and limb deficiency." Nelson: "Whatever next? Give me full sail. The salt spray beckons." Hardy: "A couple of problems there too, sir. Health and Safety won't let the crew up the rigging without hard hats. And they don't want anyone breathing in too much salt - haven't you seen the adverts ?" Nelson: "I've never heard such infamy. Break out the cannon and tell the men to stand by to engage the enemy." Hardy: "The men are a bit worried about shooting at anyone, Admiral." Nelson: "What? This is mutiny!" Hardy: "It's not that, sir. It's just that they're afraid of being charged with murder if they actually kill anyone. There's a couple of legal-aid lawyers on board, watching everyone like hawks." Nelson: "Then how are we to sink the Frenchies and the Spanish?" Hardy: "Actually, sir, we're not." Nelson: "We're not?" Hardy: "No, sir. The French and the Spanish are our European partners now. According to the Common Fisheries Policy, we shouldn't even be in this stretch of water. We could get hit with a claim for compensation." Nelson: "But you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil." Hardy: "I wouldn't let the ship's diversity co-ordinator hear you saying that, sir. You'll be up on disciplinary report." Nelson: "You must consider every man an enemy who speaks ill of your King." Hardy: "Not any more, sir. We must be inclusive in this multicultural age. Now put on your Kevlar vest; it's the rules. It could save your life" Nelson: "Don't tell me - Health and Safety. Whatever happened to rum, sodomy, and the lash?" Hardy: “As I explained, sir, rum is off the menu! And there's a ban on corporal punishment." Nelson: "What about sodomy?" Hardy: "I believe that is now legal, sir." Nelson: "In that case ... kiss me, Hardy." Today’s Thought There is no greater disloyalty to the great pioneers of human progress than to refuse to budge an inch from where they stood. — Dean W. R. Inge Boaters’ Rules of Thumb, #109 Wind strengths. A tropical depression has winds of less than 33 knots. When the speed rises above 33 knots it becomes a tropical storm. When the wind speed tops 64 knots, it becomes a hurricane. Why 33 instead of 35? Why 64 instead of 65? Don’t ask me. I don’t make the rules. I just work here. Tailpiece “I’ve taken up freelance journalism as a career.” “Great. Sold anything yet?” “Yes — my watch, my camera, my iPod, my car ...” |
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