Back in the water

I sailed the boat with the new rig this past weekend. I fashioned two mast crutches that go into the mast steps and partners of the former two cat ketch masts to carry the longer and heavier mast and other spars. The standing rigging complicates the setup but once the mast is up things fall into place. One annoying mishap after we rowed away from the ramp involved the throat halyard accidentally rolling down its block until its tail end ended at the masttop. A figure-8 knot stopped it from coming through completely, and it took many, many attempts to snag it and pull it down with the boat hook. Well that's not going to happen again, and if it does I'm a worse fool than I think I am.

But once we got under way, oh man! The wind on Lake Erie was very fickle, picking up and dying down and constantly changing direction, but with a decent breeze the boat was flying. Having to work the jibsheets adds a little extra work when coming about but tacking is easy, gybes are pretty gentle and the boat much more responsive and fast. All in all a very good experience. There were no other boats around so I had no opportunities to get photos so you'll have to take my word for it!

Launch day!

Today I launched the boat and sailed her, after a few adventures.  Last Tuesday I had her inspected by the state Department of Watercraft, in a parking lot of a grocery store in a university town 25 miles away (long story).  The officer had no issues and was very complimentary.  So, while the title and registration are in process, and armed with a temporary permit, I asked my friend Michael, who is from coastal Maryland and an experienced sailor, to come out with me today.  It was just as well, because as it turns out the boat is very difficult to rig and get under way.  Things will get easier with practice, but there's no going around that it is a two-person boat.  We were extremely busy (and I was stressed out), and we had no friends in another boat, so we only took a few photos, and many of them were bad.  So only two this time, I'm afraid.

So we drove to Marblehead and launched at Dempsey's State Fishing Area, a nice place with a breakwater/ fishing pier and four launch ramps with floating docks.  I had a printed checklist, and all went well at first: I had stepped the main mast (near the bow) and roved the main halyard and snotter, put on the yard toggle etc.  Lauch was easy and the boat proved to be very stable, with each person being able to step in with little rocking. She also sat in the water exactly where I expected her to.

Then we rowed out into the bay and I tried to rig the mizzen.  I realized something was wrong: the yard lay backwards.  Turns out that I had used the mizzen sail and sprit on the main and vice versa.  Because the main mast is very hard to step while in the boat, there was no avoiding it: we had to row back in and fix things.  Unfortunately we had drifted some way away, plus there was a real traffic jam at the ramps, even with four of them.  Well, eventually we docked her, unstepped the masts, switched the halyards, sails and all, and started again.  The breeze by now was a good 15 to 18 mph.  Long story short, we got under way, and the crazy thing can really fly!  She seemed to prefer a beam reach, and to dislike sailing close to the wind.  Here I am looking like a fat slob (I have lost 16 pounds and I'm in good shape, honest!), sunburned, and worried.  But I'm OK, and you can see the mechanics of the mizzen mast and sail.

Then we tried to tack.  Ready about, helm's-a-lee, then nothing.  It flat-out stalled!  We tried again, nothing again.  At some point we had to wear (turn 270 degrees through a gybe) to go where we wanted.  By then my heart sank when I noticed water sloshing under the floorboards!  So Aerie clearly had sprung a leak.  A slow leak to be sure, but I had no bilge pump, courtesy of Wal-Mart which falsely claimed they had one, and then it was too late to find it elsewhere.  And with the water under the boards I couldn't use the bailer either.

So a leaky boat that could not tack.  Great.  I was getting very discouraged.  Fortunately Michael (here he is, looking unflappable, with a good view of the mainsail) had (and always has) a positive attitude.  Poor guy, he had never had to deal with such complicated traditional rigging, but I couldn't have done it without him.  Then I tried to tighten the tack downhauls, which had gotten loose.  Bingo!  The boat tacked fine and sailed pretty close to the wind.  I was too preoccupied to actually measure angles but the day was saved.  We were on the water for about three hours and we didn't take on all that much water, but we called it a day since we were exhausted anyway.  After a nice picnic in the shade we came home. 

To summarize:

• Aerie  has a leak.  After retrieval I found it, and it's through the joint between CB trunk and garboard.  Nothing that some epoxy compound and caulk won't fix.  Unfortunately the supposedly watertight buoyancy compartments also took on some water, so I have to dry them out and seal them with caulk this time.  Clearly epoxy compound leaves invisible holes for water to come through.
• Rigging her is a pain, and a lot of things can go wrong.  It takes two people to do it.  On a calm day she could be rigged at the dock, but since the mizzen partner is also the rowing thwart,  I would need a motor, which I dont intend to get (yet, anyway).
• She rows very well, but the high sides and nine-foot oars make her not a real row boat.
• She is very dry (well, except the leak anyway), weatherly, stable and stiff.  She has little leeway, and a slight weather helm, which is exactly how I designed her.
• She can really fly on a moderate breeze.
• The tacks, and especially the mizzen one, need to be tightly hauled down.  I had been warned many times in books and web articles, but I didn't realize that the consequence would be inability to tack.
• I need to clearly label yards and sprits so I don't repeat the stupid mistakes of today.
• Finally, the masts, slender and bendy as they are, performed fine and showed no appreciable bending in the wind.  This could change in a much stronger wind, but for now I am very pleased.

All in all, it could have gone better, but when does it ever, really, on the first shakedown cruise?

P.S.  Just as were coming in, a man on a big, scary looking black twin-hull boat ordered us to turn ours into the wind and wait.  It was a Dept. of Watercraft boat with two (armed, judging by the guy who inspected Aerie on Tuesday) officers on board, who had noticed we didn't have registration numbers and tags on the hull.  I showed them the temporary tag and they were all polite and everything and congratulated me on how great my Aerie looked.  I actually appreciated that they are there, earning their salaries and paying attention, perhaps catching a dangerous drunk or two.  In South Carolina they were nowhere to be seen.

Some history II

Anyway, I was talking about a sliding Gunter (BTW, it does get a little arcane, but Wikipedia and Google are great for explanations for those who need them).

That wasn't the end. In search of an ever better rig, I replaced the regular boom with a sprit boom. I finally decided I didn't want to mess with either the jib (too small to matter, too picky for single-handed sailing), or with stays  So I modified the sail to a bat-wing with full-length battens, and replaced the 14 foot mast with a 10'8" unstayed one.  This final rig served me well for a while.

Then we moved to Ohio, and the little boat was fine for the city reservoir, but too small to risk on lake Erie, where big waves can come out of nowhere. A one-mile-square reservoir gets a little repetitive, even though it has plenty of wind, being 20 feet above ground level.  I got bored and decided to build a bigger boat, still small enough to fit on the small trailer, but with side decks, more freeboard and more stability.

I shopped around for plans, but I couldn't decide on what I wanted.  None seemed to have the right combination of features, size, versatility, old-timey look, relative ease of building, etc.  I had already figured out from experience that plans may need a lot of tinkering, or may be poor designs (especially after building an unbelievably tippy plywood canoe, whose designer shall remain nameless, for fear of possible lawsuits :-)).  Being a fearless tinkerer, I decided to look for ways to design my own.

My inspiration came from many fine naval architects, and I owe a debt for ideas especially to Francois Vivier, John Welsford, and B&B Yacht Designs.  I used the free hull design program from Carlson Design to test my ideas and come up with dimensions and shapes of bulkheads, frames and strake panels.  For more of what went into the design choices, check the next installment of 176Inches.

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