Yachting Volume I Part 1

Yachting Vol. 1.

by Edward Sullivan, Lord Bra.s.sey, C.E. Seth-Smith, G. L. Watson and R. T. Pritchett.

PREFACE

A few lines only are necessary to explain the object with which these volumes are put forth. There is no modern encyclopaedia to which the inexperienced man, who seeks guidance in the practice of the various British Sports and Pastimes, can turn for information. Some books there are on Hunting, some on Racing, some on Lawn Tennis, some on Fis.h.i.+ng, and so on; but one Library, or succession of volumes, which treats of the Sports and Pastimes indulged in by Englishmen--and women--is wanting. The Badminton Library is offered to supply the want. Of the imperfections which must be found in the execution of such a design we are conscious. Experts often differ. But this we may say, that those who are seeking for knowledge on any of the subjects dealt with will find the results of many years' experience written by men who are in every case adepts at the Sport or Pastime of which they write. It is to point the way to success to those who are ignorant of the sciences they aspire to master, and who have no friend to help or coach them, that these volumes are written.

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To those who have worked hard to place simply and clearly before the reader that which he will find within, the best thanks of the Editor are due. That it has been no slight labour to supervise all that has been written, he must acknowledge; but it has been a labour of love, and very much lightened by the courtesy of the Publisher, by the unflinching, indefatigable a.s.sistance of the Sub-Editor, and by the intelligent and able arrangement of each subject by the various writers, who are so thoroughly masters of the subjects of which they treat. The reward we all hope to reap is that our work may prove useful to this and future generations.

THE EDITOR.

CHAPTER I

[Ill.u.s.tration: Yachts.]

INTRODUCTION

BY SIR EDWARD SULLIVAN, BART.

[Ill.u.s.tration: VICTORIA CUP. 1893.]

It is related that Chrysippus, a cynic, killed himself in order that he might sooner enjoy the delights of Paradise. Philosophers do queer things sometimes. Many who are not philosophers kill themselves in order to avoid the miseries of this world; but, as far as I know, this is the only case on record of a man killing himself from impatience to enjoy the pleasures of the next.

Ideas of Paradise are exceedingly various. To the ancients Paradise meant a _dolce far niente_ in the Elysian Fields; to the North American Indians it means happy hunting grounds and plenty of fat buffalo. The Scythians believed in a Paradise of immortal drunkenness and drinking blood out of the skulls of their enemies, and the Paradise that to-day influences the belief of one-fourth of the human race is contained in Chapter X. of the Koran. To Madame de Chevreuse it meant chatting with her friends in the next world. To one friend of mine it was galloping for ever over a gra.s.s country without gates. To another it meant driving four horses, with Tim Carter seated at his side. To some, I believe, Paradise means yachting, and for my own part, I think a 200-ton schooner, a ten-knot breeze, and a summer sea hard to beat. Whether yachting approaches one's conception of Paradise or not, I think there are very few of us who, if they do not suffer from that hopeless affection the _mal de mer_, do not more or less enjoy a life on the ocean wave; it is so fresh and life-giving and so various. 'A home on the stormy deep' we won't say so much about. I have seen two or three storms at sea, but I have never found them pleasant; very much the contrary. There is grandeur, if you like, but there is also terror and horror.

As black as night she turned to white, And cast against the cloud A snowy sheet as if each surge Upturned a sailor's shroud.

This is poetry; but it is true. You look to windward, and you look to leeward; you look ahead, and you look astern, and you feel that, if you are not already engulfed, you probably may be in the next minute.

Dr. Johnson said the pleasure of going to sea was getting ash.o.r.e again; certainly the pleasure of a storm is getting into smooth water again.

The ideas of pleasure as connected with yachting vary as much as the ideas of Paradise; to one it means steaming at full speed from one port to another; but this becomes monotonous. A friend of mine used to write a letter at Cowes, address it to himself at Guernsey, and then steam, hard all, to Guernsey to get his letter. When he got it he would write to himself at Plymouth, then steam away, hard all again, to get that, and so on; even in steaming you must have an object of some kind, you know.

To another dowagering up and down the Solent, lunching on board, and then hurrying back to dine and sleep ash.o.r.e are pleasure; to another, sailing with the wind, or against the wind, or drifting when there is no wind, is the ideal of yachting. Certainly that is mine. I have tried both. I have had a steamer and I have had sailing vessels, and if I lived to the age of the Hyperboreans and owned several gold mines I should never keep a steamer for pleasure. In sailing, the interest never flags; the rigging, the sails, the anchors, the cables, the boats, the decks, all have their separate interest; every puff of wind, every catspaw, is a source of entertainment, and when the breeze comes, and, with everything drawing below and aloft, you tear along ten or twelve knots an hour, the sensation of pleasure is complete--if you are not sick.

I can never allow that steaming, under any conditions, can give the same pleasure as sailing--nor a hundredth part of it. If you are in a hurry, steam by all means--steam, steam, steam, pile on the coal, blacken sea and sky with your filthy smoke, and get into your port; but that is the pleasure of locomotion, not of yachting. Even as regards locomotion, there are occasions when a fine sailing vessel will go by a steamer as if she were standing still.

Years ago I sailed from Plymouth to Lisbon in four days, and from Lisbon to Cowes in four days, and pa.s.sed all the steamers on the way!

_Atque haec olim meminisse juvabit._ These are the happy moments, like forty minutes across a gra.s.s country, that fond memory brings back to us, and which Time's effacing fingers will never touch. Can steam at its best afford such delight as this? No; of course not. But, although this is my opinion of the relative pleasure of sailing and steaming, it is not by any means the general one; the race of steam _versus_ canvas has been run, and alas! steam has won easily, hands down. I say alas! for I think that, from every point of view, yachting has suffered from the general employment of steam.

One of the objects of the Royal Yacht Squadron, when it was originally founded, was to encourage seamans.h.i.+p, and, as steam was supposed to destroy seamans.h.i.+p, steamers were not admitted into the Club; and the Royal Yacht Squadron was right. Steam does destroy seamans.h.i.+p; a steams.h.i.+p hand is certainly not half a sailor. Now more than half the tonnage of the Club is in steamers. I think it is a pity, and they are such steamers too! 800 tons, 1,000 tons, 1,500 tons. I do not see where they are to stop; but, I believe that in this, as in most things, we have run into excess. I cannot believe that the largest steam yacht afloat, with all the luxury and cost that upholsterers and cabinet-makers can devise, will ever give a man who is fond of the sea and seafaring matters a t.i.the of the gratification that a 100-ton sailing vessel will afford; one is a floating hotel, the other is a floating cottage. I prefer the cottage.

The worry of maintaining discipline in a crew of forty or fifty men, amongst whom there is sure to be one or two black sheep, the smoke, the smell of oil, the vibration, the noise, even the monotony, destroy pleasure. Personally, the game seems to me not worth the candle.

Thirty or forty years ago, yachting men with their sixty or hundred tonners went on year after year, fitting out, and cruising about the coast, as part of their yearly life. When their vessel was wearing out, they would sell her, and buy or build another; they seldom parted with her for any other reason. Now a man builds a floating palace or hotel at a fabulous cost; but as a general rule in about two years he wants to sell her and to retire from yachting life.

A sailing vessel and a steamer are different articles; you get attached to a sailing vessel as you do to anything animate, to your horse, or your dog; but I defy anyone to get attached to a smoky, oily steamer. There is an individuality about the sailing vessel; none about the steamer.

When the seven wise men of Greece delivered the oracular dictum that there were only two beautiful things in the world, women and roses, and only two good things, women and wine, they spoke according to their limited experience--they had never seen the new type of racing yacht under sail. Of course the perfection of animate beauty is represented by women, but certainly inanimate nature can show nothing more beautiful than 'Britannia,' 'Navahoe,' 'Valkyrie,' 'Satanita,'

their sails well filled, the sun s.h.i.+ning on them, streaking along twelve or thirteen knots an hour, apparently without an effort, scarcely raising a ripple. And then a yacht is so exceedingly feminine in her ways. One day everything goes right with her--she will not only do all she is asked to do, but a great deal more than her greatest admirers ever thought she could do: the next day everything goes wrong with her--she will not do anything she is asked, and indeed will not do what her admirers know she can do without an effort.

Some women--I speak it with all respect--bear being 'squeezed' and 'pinched,' they almost seem to like it, at any rate they don't cry out; whereas others will cry out immediately and vigorously. So will yachts.

The more you squeeze one vessel, the more you pinch her, the more she seems to enjoy it. Squeeze another, pinch her into the wind, and she lies down and calls out at once. The difference between vessels in this respect is quite funny, and essentially feminine.

Curiously enough, extremes meet; that is to say, if the pendulum of taste or fas.h.i.+on goes very much over to one side, it is sure to go over just as far on the other. Sailing yachts of 100, 200, 300 tons have gone out of fas.h.i.+on, and leviathan steamers of 800, 1,000, 1,500 tons have taken their place; but at the same time that a taste for immense steamers has driven moderate-sized sailing vessels out of the field, a taste for small boats, 5-raters, 3-raters, 1/2-raters--I don't quite understand their rating--has sprung up, and promises almost to supplant the big steamers themselves.

I believe the increasing popularity of these swallows of the seas--for turning, wheeling, skimming, doubling, as they do, I can compare them to nothing else--is a very good omen for yachting; they are expensive for their size and tonnage, certainly, but, after all, their cost may be counted in hundreds instead of tens of thousands. They have brought scientific boat sailing and racing within the reach of hundreds who cannot afford big racing yachts; and, moreover, the ladies join in these exciting contests, and of course very often win. In endurance, and courage, and nerve, and quickness, they are quite the equals of the other s.e.x; and if they are occasionally a little too pertinacious, a little too eager to win, and don't always 'go about' exactly when the rules of the road require, what does it signify? Who grudges them their little victory?

A flight of these sea swallows skimming over the course at Calshot Castle, on a fine day with a good working breeze, is one of the prettiest sights in the world.

Independently of the health-giving and invigorating influences both to mind and body of a yachting life, it has advantages that in my opinion raise it above any other sport, if sport it is to be called. There is neither cruelty nor professionalism in yachting, except when certain foolish sn.o.bs in sheer wantonness shoot the too-confiding gulls that hover round the sterns of their yachts. There is no professional element in yachting, I repeat, not even in yacht racing, at least not enough to speak of, and it is an enormous advantage in its favour that it brings one into contact with what I believe is without doubt the best of our working population; for are not the toilers of the sea workers in the very fullest sense of the word?

Yacht sailors, as a rule, are sober, honest, obliging, good-tempered, original. During the many years I have yachted, I have had crews from north, east, west, and south, and I have almost without exception found them the same. A man must be hard to please indeed, if, after a three or four months' cruise, he does not part from his crew with regret, and with a sincere wish that they may meet again.

Amongst yachting skippers, I have come across some of the most honourable, trustworthy, honest men I have met in any cla.s.s of life, men who know their duty, and are always willing and anxious to do it.

The chief peculiarity of all the seafaring cla.s.s that I have been brought into contact with is their entire freedom from vulgarity. They are obliging to the utmost of their power, but never cringing or vulgar. The winter half of their lives is spent in fis.h.i.+ng-boats, or coasters, or sea voyages where they have to face dangers and hards.h.i.+ps that must be experienced to be realised. As a rule, they are religious; and their preparations for the Sabbath, their was.h.i.+ngs and soapings and brus.h.i.+ngs, show with what pleasure they welcome its recurrence. Yacht minstrelsy, with its accordion, its songs of twenty verses, its never-ending choruses, its pathos, is a thing of itself.

Some day perhaps some Albert Chevalier will make it fas.h.i.+onable. Such as they are, I know no cla.s.s of Englishmen superior, if any be equal, to the sailors who man our yachts. Of course there are sharks, or at any rate dog-fish, in all waters; but where the good so immensely outnumber the bad, that man must be a fool indeed who gets into wrong hands.

To say there is no vulgarity in yachting is not true; there is; but it is not amongst the men or among the skippers. And, after all, the vulgarity one sometimes sees amongst yacht-owners does not go for much; it amuses them and hurts n.o.body. If the amateur sailor wishes to be thought more of a sailor than the sailor born, he soon finds out his mistake, and when he gets into a good club subsides into his proper position.

To those who are fond of the sea and of yachting, the yacht is the most 'homey' of residences; everything is cosy, and comfortable, and within reach; and the sensation of carrying your house and all its comforts about with you is unique.

The internal economy of a yacht const.i.tutes one of its greatest charms. Your cook, with only a little stove for which a sh.o.r.e cook would scarcely find any use, will send you up an excellent dinner cooked to perfection for any number of guests; and the steward! who can describe the work of a yacht's steward? I doubt whether Briareus with his hundred hands could do more than a steward does with two. At seven in the morning he is ash.o.r.e for the milk, and the breakfast, and the letters, and the flowers; he valets half a dozen people, prepares half a dozen baths, brushes heaven knows how many clothes, gets the breakfast, makes the beds, cleans the plate, tidies the cabin, provides luncheon, five-o'clock tea, dinner, is always cheerful, obliging, painstaking, and more than repaid if occasionally he gets a _pet.i.t mot_ of compliment or congratulation. When he ever sleeps, or eats, I never can tell; and, far from grumbling at his work, he often resents the a.s.sistance of any sh.o.r.e-going servant.

The introduction of steam launches has added very much to the pleasures of yachting, and to my mind has greatly lessened the advantages, if any, that steamers possess over sailing vessels. Every vessel of 100 tons and over can now carry a steam launch, big or small, at the davits, or on deck. You _sail_ from port to port, or loch to loch, in your sailing vessel, and when you have found snug anchorage, you 'out kettle' and puff away for as long as you like, enjoying the pleasure of exploring the rivers and creeks and neighbouring objects of interest. Everywhere this is delightful, at Plymouth, at Dartmouth, at Falmouth, the Scilly Isles, at St. Malo, and perhaps especially in Scotland.

To my mind, the West Coast of Scotland is, _par excellence_, the happy cruising grounds of yachtsmen. I know of none like it--the number and variety of the lochs, the wild grandeur of some, the soft beauty of others, the mountains, the rocks, the islands, the solitude, the forests, the trees.

Oh! the Oak and the Ash, and the bonny Ivy tree, They flourish best at home in the North Countrie.

The heather, especially the white, the ferns, the mosses, the wild flowers, the innumerable birds and fish, the occasional seals and whales, the wildness of the surroundings, all combine to give it a charm that is indescribable. I have seen on the coast of Skye a whale, thirty or forty feet long, jump clean out of the water three or four times, like a salmon. Anch.o.r.ed close under a cliff in Loch Hourn, and happening to look up, I met the wondering eyes of a hind craning over the edge of the cliffs, and staring right down on the yacht. Go the world over, you will nowhere find so much varied beauty, above or below, on land or sea, as on the West Coast of Scotland.

n.o.body can explore or appreciate the beauty of the Scotch lochs without a 'kettle.' It spoils one's pleasure to keep a boat's crew pulling for eight or ten hours in a hot sun, and therefore, if you have no steam launch, many expeditions that promise much interest and pleasure are abandoned; but with your kettle and a man, or a man and a boy, you don't care how long you are out or how far you go. This to my mind is the most enjoyable combination of sails and steam--a comfortable sailing vessel, schooner or ketch for choice, to carry you from port to port, and a steam launch for exploration when you get there.

The accommodation of a sailing vessel is, on a rough calculation, double the accommodation of a steamer of the same tonnage. The Earl of Wilton, Commodore of the Royal Yacht Squadron, had a schooner of 200 tons, and after sailing in her many years he decided, as so many others have done, to give up sailing and take to steam. To obtain exactly the same accommodation that he had on board his 200-ton schooner, he had to build a steamer, the 'Palatine,' of 400 tons. Of course in an iron steamer of 400 tons the height between decks is very much greater than in a wooden schooner of 200 tons. Also the cabins are larger, but there are no more of them.

I think many people have erroneous ideas of the cost of yachting.

Yacht _racing_, especially in the modern cutters of 150 or 170 tons, is very expensive. The wear and tear of spars and gear is incredible.