"There
be three things which are too wonderful for me, yea, four which I know not:
"The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid."
"The way of an eagle in the air; the way of a serpent upon a rock; the way of a ship in the midst of the sea; and the way of a man with a maid."
Specifically,
“Nautigal” wants to know about the way of a ship in the midst of the sea.
Well, ma’am,
science has made great progress since those words were written. We can explain
an eagle’s flight with aerodynamics. Herpetologists now know how a snake
slithers across a rock. Dr. Phil understands all too well the wicked way of a
man with a maid (and spares us no details). And that leaves the ship in the
midst of the sea, the most wonderful of all the mysteries.
Little
ships, and especially little sailing ships, conduct themselves in many
different ways in the waves of the sea. You may have experienced them all
without giving any particular motion a name or a definition. But one man made a
list for us to wonder at.
He is the
well-known American naval architect and author, Francis S. Kinney. He held that
there were eight motions of a sailboat at sea:
Broaching: Accidentally swinging
broadside on to the wind and sea when running free.
Heaving: Rising and falling as a whole
with the seas.
Pitching: Plunging and scending, so
that the bow and stern rise and fall alternately.
Pitchpoling: Accidentally tumbling
stern-over-bow in a half-forward somersault.
Rolling: Inclining rhythmically from
side to side.
Surging: Being accelerated and
decelerated by overtaking swells.
Swaying: Moving bodily sideways.
Yawing: Lurching and changing direction
to either side of a proper course.
I note that
the discreet Mr. Kinney refrained from mentioning wallowing and foundering,
which has happened in boats I’ve sailed. The foundering was in a small sailing dinghy,
luckily, and there was a sandbank nearby. Perhaps Mr. Kinney’s designs never
did those things. But he might well have included heeling, which is simply
deliberately arrested rolling.
So next time
you’re out there, “Nautigal,” take note of what your boat is doing, and at all
costs avoid pitchpoling. That’s the most dangerous motion of all.
Today’s Thought
I would rather live in a world where my life
is surrounded by mystery than live in a world so small that my mind could
comprehend it.
— Harry
Emerson Fosdick, “The Mystery of Life,” in Riverside
Sermons
Tailpiece
A man rushed into the dining car of a train. “A lady just fainted next door,” he cried. “Anyone got any whiskey?”
A man rushed into the dining car of a train. “A lady just fainted next door,” he cried. “Anyone got any whiskey?”
Several
flasks were offered. He grabbed the nearest one and drained it in one gulp.
“Thanks a
lot,” he said, “it always upsets me to see a lady faint.”
(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday,
Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
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