May 9, 2013

Sailing's really pretty simple

 I HAVE ALWAYS maintained that almost anyone can learn to sail in an hour. Put a kid in a small sailing dinghy and see what happens. Within minutes, he or she has figured out how to work the three main controls — tiller, mainsheet, and daggerboard.

Even an adult can learn to sail in an hour or less. To tell the truth, basic survival sailing comes almost instinctively to most people. There are exceptions, of course, people who can’t get the hang of where the wind is coming from, or who panic when the boat starts to heel. But on the whole, sailing is a pretty simple pastime.

On a typical professionally taught sailing course over a weekend, you’ll learn the rules of the road, elementary navigation, crew overboard drills, coast-guard safety requirements, light and sound signals, anchoring and docking procedures, and a whole lot of other stuff apart from the simple skills of sailing.

What we call sailing actually involves many disciplines, from weather forecasting to domestic science, but the nub of it all, the actual business of making a small boat travel though water in the right direction, is not complicated. If you can drive a car, you can almost certainly sail a boat.

For my money, it’s best to learn the basics in a boat of 25 feet or less. Then you’ll be ready to sail anything.

Today’s Thought
Thus, thus I steer my bark, and sail
On even keel with gentle gale.
— Matthew Green, The Spleen.

Tailpiece
Notice at a hotel swimming pool:
“Please be extra careful when using the swimming pool. The lifesaver has not yet received his annual raise.”

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

May 7, 2013

Some shameless self-promotion

WHEN I WAS A TEENAGER, and suddenly interested in sailing, I started tearing pages out of yachting magazines and collecting wise sayings of the sea. I was obsessed with the idea of owning a deep-sea yacht of my own, and I thought all this knowledge would come in useful one day.

It did, in fact, and by the early 1990s I had baskets overflowing with clippings and a drawer full of files with handy facts culled from yachting books.

One day I was sailing with a pupil in San Diego Bay and he happened to mention that he was going to make a fortune by writing a book of rules of thumb.

“What sort of rules of thumb?” I asked.

“Oh, household hints and tips,” he said vaguely. “Haven’t given it much thought yet. How best to iron a shirt. How to peel an egg easily.  How to sort the washing. That sort of thing.  Small pieces, easy to read, very useful to have at hand.”

I wished him luck and (seeing where he was steering the boat) I warned  him never to sail downwind into a narrow strait unless he was sure he could beat out again. Almost as I said it, I realized it was a rule of thumb. A nautical rule of thumb.  And I also realized that I had baskets and files full of nautical rules of thumb. Well over 400 of them, actually.

That’s how The Practical Mariner’s Book of Knowledge got started, though I’m afraid I never gave my pupil any credit for the idea.  McGraw-Hill’s nautical publishing department, International Marine, published the book in 1994 and it went on to become a best-seller in terms of the sailing-book industry. It sold solidly for 18 years until 2012, when the powers that be decided that it needed to be updated and expanded to keep pace with the technological changes that had taken place.

Now, you’d think that mariners’ rules of thumb would be valid forever. After all, things don’t seem to change in the oceans where sailors work and play.  Out among the blue waves it looks the same now as it did millions of years ago.  Mankind has left no permanent marks on the face of the sea, no pyramids, no Stonehenge. 

But, in fact, the sea does change. The ice caps are melting. The sea level is rising. Conditions for boaters, whether under sail or power, are changing also.  Most of all, the science of the sea and  boats is changing.  In the nearly 20 years since this book was first published, there have been great strides in many areas, but particularly in electronics.  Satellites and computers have taken over from sextants and chronometers in the navigation department and safety has improved immeasurably with smart phones and such aids as CARD, AIS, EPIRBs and personal locator beacons (all of which are described in this book). Long-distance communication has been revolutionized by satellite phones and the internet. Diodes capable of emitting light are changing the way we illuminate our cabins and our navigation lights.

And so I had to saddle up my trusty PC again and revise the whole darned book. This spring, International Marine has published the second expanded edition of The Practical Mariner’s Book of Knowledge. It now contains about 460 rules of thumb for almost every boating situation and should be good for another 18 years.

I’m not much of a one for shameless self-promotion. Apart from any moral considerations, it involves too much hard work. But I have always loved the little description my original copy editor wrote for back cover: “The Practical Mariner’s Book of Knowledge is either the most useful boating book ever designed to entertain, or the most entertaining book ever designed to be useful.”

I wish I’d said that.


Today’s Thought
No rule is so general which admits not some exception.
— Robert Burton, Anatomy of Melancholy

Tailpiece
Love is the great poker game of life. It starts with a pair. She gets a flush. He shows diamonds and, before you know it, there’s a full house.

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

May 5, 2013

More killer waves than we thought

THE EUROPEAN SPACE AGENCY has confirmed that freak waves exist in the world’s oceans “in higher numbers than anyone expected.” Wolfgang Rosenthal, senior scientist with the GKSS Research Center in Geesthacht, Germany, says two of the agency’s Earth-scanning satellites used radar to monitor the oceans for three weeks. They identified more than 10 individual giant waves around the globe that were more than 81 feet high.

Laurence Draper, of the British National Institute of Oceanography, has long insisted it’s no old wives’ tale that every fifth, or seventh, or ninth wave is larger than the others. Sea systems are composed of many different wave trains, he says, each with its own speed and height.

So, at random intervals, waves can ride on each other’s backs to form an exceptionally high wave — and it doesn’t have to be blowing hard. Draper estimates that one wave in 23 is twice the average height; one in 1,175 is three times higher; and one in 300,000 is more than four times higher.

But it’s the height of the breaking crest that’s the greatest threat to small sailboats. Luckily, the size of the crest does not necessarily relate to the size of the wave in deep open water.

Watch out for more frequent giant waves when you’re in a strong ocean current. Winds blowing against the current create the biggest and steepest waves.

Today’s Thought
Under every deep a lower deep opens.
— Emerson, Essays, First Series: Circles

Tailpiece
According to the cynics among us, a platonic relationship is the interval between the introduction and the first grope.

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

May 2, 2013

Three little-known boat types

THERE MUST BE HUNDREDS of names for different types of boats around the world. Patrick Boyle mentions a few of them in his book Sailing in a Nutshell (Methuen, London, 1938) and his list contains three I’d never heard of before.

Near the beginning of the book Boyle discusses the various kinds of sailboats a beginner might be tempted to purchase. He ends up by declaring that if you really mean to sail in style — and especially if you intend to wear white trousers and to look sometimes through a telescope — then the right vessel for you is a yawl.  He continues:

“Right, then, a yawl it is. The procedure for acquiring one of your own is familiar enough in one form or another to most people, even on shore, and is known as ‘buying.’

“Note: There is no point in paying any attention to such exotic or egregious types of craft as scows, dhows, catboats, jollyboats, barquentines, corvettes, hoys, galliots, lerrets, randans, bucentaurs, gondolas, wherries, ferries, corsairs, xebecs, sampans, catamarans or junks . . .”

Well, the three I’d never come across before were the lerret, the randan, and the bucentaur. In fact, I was so over-confident of my nautical knowledge that I took it for granted that Boyle had made those names up. After all, this is a book of exaggerated humor. But some cautious nook of my brain suggested it might be wise to do some research, lest I made a fool of myself (again) in public. And lo! all three are real boats.

The lerret. The Century Dictionary and Cyclopedia says of the lerret:

“A boat of great strength, built for the heavy seas: used about the Isle of Portland.”

Wiktionary describes the lerret as “A traditional fishing boat of southwest England.”

The randan. The Encyclopedia of Nautical Knowledge (Cornell) says of the randan:

“In England, a boat having three thwarts and operated by three oarsmen, single oars being pulled from forward and after thwarts, while man on midship pulls two oars. This arrangement often is termed randan fashion; as, to row r. fashion.”

The bucentaur.  The same invaluable encyclopedia says the bucentaur (Italian bucentoro) was the “State barge of Venice used each year (1177 - 1797) by the Doge at a ceremony known as Marriage of the Adriatic, signifying subjection of the sea to her husband, the Venetian Republic.”

Well, there we are. We live and learn.

Today’s Thought
What’s in a name?  that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
— Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Tailpiece
Sir Winston Churchill used to say there were only two things more difficult than making an after-dinner speech. One was climbing a ladder leaning toward you, and the other kissing a girl leaning away from you.

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

April 30, 2013

The price of standing headroom

IT’S GENERALLY ACCEPTED that full standing headroom in a boat is 6 feet 1 inch, but few sailboats under 27 feet in length can provide it without resorting to a tall and ugly cabin trunk.

There are several troubling aspects about a high deckhouse, besides the aesthetic shock. It creates wind resistance, for a start, which is particularly disadvantageous when you’re sailing against the wind. It’s also more prone to damage by large waves.

Furthermore, it’s dangerous to work at the base of the mast when handling the mainsail because you’re poised comparatively high over the water for the width of the boat. If she’s sharply heeled you could fall overboard without touching the lifelines.

Heavy-displacement boats can get away with lower, sleeker cabin trunks because their cabin soles extend farther below the waterline, but there is no alternative on a light-displacement hull (if full headroom is required) than to build upward.

But you really only need standing headroom when you’re not sailing. Under way, you spend your time mostly sitting down or lying down. And, as Uffa Fox famously pointed out, you can always go on deck. Plenty of headroom up there.    

Incidentally, good sitting headroom is 4 feet 9 inches. Anything between that and full standing headroom is truly a pain in the neck.

Today’s Thought
Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only  not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.
— H. D. Thoreau, Walden

Tailpiece
A friend says he never realized how short of living space the world has become until he arrived home early one evening and found a strange man living in his wife’s wardrobe.

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

April 28, 2013

The cure for wanderlust

I SUSPECT MANY PEOPLE suffer from wanderlust without knowing it. My barber is one of them. Every time I go to get my locks shorn she gets that look in her eye and starts to talk about boats.

She actually lived on a sailboat for a while a few years ago, before she found her true love and had a couple of kids. Now she is shore-bound and fully occupied with looking after them, her man, their house, an old VW van, and a bunch of customers with unruly hair.

Wanderlust hits most of us sooner or later but it affects some worse than others. It can start off as a vague, nagging longing for new sights, and new people. It can grow into a search for new forms of beauty in our lives; different thrills and untasted pleasures that we suspect are waiting somewhere out there if we can only find the time and opportunity to seek them out.      

The business of bringing up a family can involve years of selfless commitment with no chance of scratching the bits of you that are itching to travel. Sometimes there are things that help ease the incipient wanderlust. Some people get piercings and tattoos. Some take to drink. But nothing works in the end except the experience of wandering.

And, as my barber knows, a seaworthy sailboat is the ideal vehicle in which to commit wanderlust. You can even take the kids with you if you’re young and very brave. A sailboat has all the essentials needed by somebody suffering from a bad case of wanderlust. It’s a home from home for a start, in which you find the comfort of knowing exactly where the teaspoons are kept and where you’re going to sleep tonight. But it’s also a box filled with adventure on all sides. There’s hardly anything you can do on a sailboat that doesn’t involve the all-important adventure that wanderlust calls for.  Even the simple act of anchoring in a pretty cove for the night can lead to a series of adventures before dawn. Not all of them are necessarily pleasant, but they’re all needed to keep wanderlust at bay.

I suspect my barber knows all this already. She and her man spotted a used yacht for sale the other day, and enquired about the price. It was too much for them to manage, but it demonstrates that they both share the urge to wander. And, sure as eggs, one of these days they’re going to end up on a boat, sailing off to goodness knows where with big smiles on their faces, until the wanderlust wears off. If it ever does.

Today’s Thought
Thanks to the interstate highway system, it is now possible to travel across the country from coast to coast without seeing anything.
— Charles Kuralt, On the Road

Tailpiece
You need only two tools on a boat: WD-40 and duct tape. If it doesn't move and should, use the WD-40. If it shouldn't move and does, use the duct tape.

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

April 25, 2013

Are life rafts really necessary?


SOMEONE WHO READ my last column was moved to ask if there was a reason why any deep-sea sailor would prefer an inflatable dinghy to a dedicated life raft. Well, all I can say is this: Before you rush out and hand over thousands of dollars for a life raft, ask yourself a simple question: What are the chances of a tiny, fragile life raft surviving a storm that sank a much bigger and more seaworthy boat?

Not all that good, apparently. In a famous storm during a Fastnet Race off England in 1979, seven sailors lost their lives because of what an official board of enquiry described as “failure of the life rafts.” The board noted further: “Life rafts clearly failed to provide the safe refuge which many crews expected.”

In the Queen’s Birthday Storm off New Zealand in 1994, the only three sailors who took to a life raft were lost and never seen again. Others who stayed with their crippled, sinking yachts were rescued.

Even if a raft survives the ordeal of launching in a storm, its occupants then have to sit and wait to be rescued, which is catastrophic for morale. Psychologists say many people will die within three days if they perceive they are in a hopeless situation. They are far more likely to survive if they can make organized progress toward land, as they might in a hard dinghy or an inflatable dinghy.

If your boat is big enough to carry one, an unsinkable fiberglass or wooden dinghy is preferable. If not, a partially inflated inflatable dinghy on the cabintop will suffice. Most boats have room for that.

Finally, whether you have a life raft or not, the overwhelming advice is to stay with your boat until it actually sinks under you. Easy to say, of course. Not so easy to do.

Today’s Thought
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
Nor to one place.
— Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice.

Tailpiece
Here’s a question for all you history buffs:
What did Hannibal get when he crossed the Alps with elephants?
Mountains that never forget, of course.

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