Beware the Russian spirit lamp

MANY OF US have had interesting experiences with cooking stoves on small yachts. Some of those experiences have involved the loss of eyebrows, mustaches, and the hair on the back of the hands. And mostly, those experiences have involved alcohol or kerosene stoves.

The first such experience recorded in the history of yachting, as far as I know, took place in 1869, when a man named Empson Edward Middleton became the first person to sail singlehanded around England.

Middleton was eccentric in several ways and always tried to eat ashore in a hotel or boarding house each evening, but on those occasions when he was stuck at anchor at some roadstead, and needed to cook his own supper, he had a kind of primitive stove in a side locker in the cockpit of his 23-foot gaff-rigged yawl.

Here, from his book, The Cruise of The Kate, is his description of that stove, which, I gather, ran on spirit, or alcohol:

“The lamp used was that usually known as the Russian spirit lamp; and having tested its utility as fully as possible, I have no hesitation in saying that it is an excessively dangerous article to have on board for constant use.

“Its manner of burning is most eccentric: sometimes it will throw up a perfect hurricane of fire, which can be hear roaring at a considerable distance; at others, though trimmed in precisely the same way, it will burn in an enormous sluggish column of flame, which rolls out into the well [cockpit —jv] with the lurch of the boat, threatening to set fire to everything.

“Now and then it varies the entertainment by becoming a fountain, shooting the spirit up from inside, which falls into the tin case, creating a perfect mass of fire outside the lamp, necessitating an instant attention with a teacup full of salt water.

“Again, the fire is such that it persists in coming out at the handle in spite of extra washers and the tightest screwing, creating a great difficulty in putting the lamp out. But the worst feature arises from the fact of the spirit being shaken out of the cuts in the bottom (which are intended to allow a free current of air), compelling constant attention to the furnace if there is any bubble on, [I believe he means bobble, small wavelets in the anchorage. — jv] because the whole chamber will be a mass of flame in an instant, and must be put out.

“I have taken the trouble to mention these peculiarities, for they cease to be dangers when known and properly met. I cannot recommend the lamp, and know of nothing to take its place; but let the engineer be careful that he burns spirit which water will extinguish.”

Well, the Russian lamp sounds like a fearsome beast that makes the later products of Messrs. Primus, Optimus, and Origo seem quite tame by comparison. I don’t think there are any perfectly safe stoves for small yachts, unless you count electric stoves, which are not often found in boats of the size I can afford. They all need to be handled with care, especially at sea. But I’m rather glad the Russian spirit lamp is no longer with us. Cooking on small boats is taxing enough without all that excitement.

Today’s Thought

I am building a fire, and every day I train, I add more fuel. At just the right moment, I light the match.

— Mia Hamm, U.S. national soccer player

Tailpiece

“I see your husband has given up smoking.”

“That’s right.”

“Must have taken an awful lot of willpower.”

“I have an awful lot of willpower.”

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

The fire that just won’t go out

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LONG AGO I READ in one of Eric Hiscock’s fine cruising books that he always started salivating at the smell of burning stove alcohol. It was a signal, relayed to his brain by his nose, that his good wife, Susan, was down below preparing supper while he slaved away at the helm in mid-ocean. I hate to compare the venerable Hiscock with Pavlov’s dog, but I’m sure you can see the similarities.

Denatured alcohol, or methylated spirits as it is known in the rest of the English-speaking world, was used in those days, the middle of the 20th century, to preheat the burners on pressurized kerosene (paraffin) stoves such as the Primus and the Optimus. These pump-up stoves served sailors well for many years, but for the past decade or two a tinge of wimpishness has crept into small-boat galleys. Modern sailors brought up in a culture of instant gratification and enforced safety, where personal risk taking is often illegal, started complaining about the flare-ups that occur when you don’t wait long enough for the burner to get hot enough. Eyebrows and beards were singed. Galley curtains were lost. Fires were not unheard of.

So the manufacturers of boat stoves, responding to the plaintive whines of those untutored and unskilled in the ancient art of lighting a stove, turned away from kerosene and started producing pressurized alcohol stoves instead — much to the delight of the distillers of denatured alcohol whose product is two or three times as expensive as kerosene, despite the fact that it produces less heating energy by volume. The rationale behind this move, gladly accepted by gullible seacooks lacking eyebrows and galley curtains, was that you can put out an alcohol fire with water. That is not always the case, of course. It all depends. Sometimes throwing water on an alcohol fire just swishes the fire to a new location, floating on top of the water, where it can set something else ablaze.

But even with alcohol stoves there was a catch. They still had to be pre-heated, and pre-heated by a generation lacking in pre-heating skills. Flare-ups continued to occur. In some cases they were even more dangerous than kerosene flare-ups. When partially heated kerosene flares up it burns with a lovely orange-yellow flame framed by black, sooty smoke. You can’t miss the fact that it’s flaring up. But partially heated alcohol burns with an almost invisible flame. If you’re not particularly observant, especially in bright daylight, an alcohol flare-up will set your galley overhead ablaze before you’re even aware of it.

So the stove manufacturers put on their thinking caps again and came up with the latest thing in stoves, the non-pressurized alcohol stove. It’s really no more than a glorified version of Sterno’s Canned Heat at about 500 times the price. It takes longer to cook things but it satisfies the craving for safety among those too cowardly to expose themselves to pressurized alcohol or (heaven forfend!) propane gas.

But that’s not the end of the story. As an old kerosene Primus lover and the present owner of a pressurized alcohol stove, I am delighted to report that flare-ups occur among non-pressurized alcohol stoves, too. A letter to the editors of Good Old Boat magazine complains about wind swirling the flame under the stovetop, superheating the metal top and the surrounding wooden counter edging. The editors responded: “We have had our Origo non-pressurized alcohol stove go critical as well. Oddly enough, it always happens to us when the fuel canister is very nearly empty.”

So maybe one of these days the circle will be complete and we’ll get back to pressurized kerosene stoves again. Maybe people will relearn the lost virtue of patience, of waiting an extra minute or two while the burner gets hot. If they want lessons, I can teach them.

Today’s Thought
A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for.
—John A. Shedd, Salt from My Attic

Tailpiece
“And what is your name, my good man?”
“James, madam.”
“I’m not accustomed to calling my chauffeurs by their first names. What is your last name?”
“Darling, madam.”
“Very well, drive on, James.”

Cooking under way

THE NEW KID on the block came back from a weekend cruise in the islands with a burning question: how do you cook under way? He has a 26-foot sailboat, with an alcohol-fueled double-burner stove, but no gimbals. One chilly day, he had to beat for eight hours in heavy winds and a contrary current. “I could have killed for a hot cup of soup,” he said, “but we couldn’t keep anything on the stove with any degree of safety.”

Most small sailboats don’t have swinging room for a properly gimbaled stove, of course, so cooking is limited to calm water in anchorages. And even there it’s possible to have a nasty accident when an unthinking powerboater comes past dragging a huge wake.

The answer to this dilemma is to invest in one of those single-burner stoves in gimbals that fastens to a bulkhead. You might find it difficult to find one of the original Sea Swing stoves, the aluminum ones that had a place for a kerosene Primus stove to hang underneath, but you can still buy a new Seacook made by Kuuma/Force10.

The Seacooks use the ubiquituous 16.4-ounce propane canisters and stow out of the way until you fit them to a low-profile bulkhead mount. They’ll take a 7-inch-diameter cooking pot. Forespar makes a similar Mini Galley 2000 stove, and both will give you about 3 1/2 hours of very convenient cooking at full blast.

These swinging single-burners are very welcome aboard small ocean cruising yachts, of course, but the cook will need either lessons in one-pot cooking or a large stock of those ready-to-eat entrées that need only be immersed in boiling water.

Meanwhile, here’s a simple, classic, one-pot recipe for onion soup. It came from British naval Commander E. G. Martin whose soup was the object of frequent praise aboard his famous cutter, Jolie Brise, which won the first Fastnet Race in 1925:

“Place four medium-large onions, peeled and cut into quarters, into a covered saucepan with 3 to 4 cups cold water. Add 2 tablespoons Bovril (or other strong beef stock) 4 ounces butter, a dessertspoonful of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce, a little black pepper, and (when the cooking is nearly done) a small glass of sherry or rather more white wine. Boil gently for 30 minutes or until the onions have fallen to pieces and are soft, stirring occasionally.”

This recipe makes enough for four to six people but it may be rather too glutinous for modern arteries, so I reduce the butter to 2 ounces and substitute 5 beef stock (bouillon) cubes for the Bovril. It’s still delicious and highly comforting on a cold stormy day.

Resources:
►Sea Swing stoves: Check Craig’s list or eBay for used models. Google “Classic Camp Stoves” for a forum on traditional old stoves and spare parts.
►Kuuma/Force 10 Seacook stoves and Forespar Mini Galley 2000 stoves: Google for list of current suppliers and prices.

Today’s Thought
I believe that if ever I had to practice cannibalism, I might manage if there were enough tarragon around.
—Jean Marie Amat

Tailpiece
“Doctor is it true that if you never drink, smoke, or run around after women, you’ll live longer?”
“I’m afraid we’ll never know until someone tries it.”