Man on the Ocean: A Book about Boats and Ships, R. M. Ballantyne [moboreader .txt] 📗
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «Man on the Ocean: A Book about Boats and Ships, R. M. Ballantyne [moboreader .txt] 📗». Author R. M. Ballantyne
A model boat should be rigged with only one mast and lug-sail, or with two masts and sails at the most. Three are unnecessary and cumbrous. Each sail should be fixed to a yard, which should be hoisted or hauled down by means of a block or pulley fastened near the top of the mast. The positions of these yards and the form of the sails may be more easily understood by a glance at our woodcut than by reading many pages of description.
Sprit-sails are sometimes used in boats. These are fore-and-aft sails, which are kept distended by a sprit instead of a yard. The sprit is a long pole, one end of which is fixed to the lowest innermost corner, near the mast, and the other end extending to the highest outermost corner; thus it lies diagonally across the sail. It is convenient when a boat “tacks,” or “goes about”—in other words, when it goes round frequently, and sails, now leaning on one side, and, at the next tack, on the other side. In this case the sprit requires little shifting or attention. But it is dangerous in squally weather, because, although the sheet or line which holds the lower and outer end of a sail may be let go for the sake of safety, the upper part remains spread to the wind because of the sprit.
The best rig of all for a model boat, and indeed for a pleasure-boat, is that which comprises a main-sail, in form like that of a sloop or a cutter, omitting the boom, or lower yard, and a triangular fore-sail extending from near the mast to the bow of the boat or to the end of the bowsprit—somewhat like a sloop’s jib. Both of the sails referred to may be seen at the part of this book which treats of sloops and cutters; and they are the same in form, with but slight modification, when applied to boats.
Racing-boats are long, low, narrow, and light. Some are so narrow as to require iron rowlocks extending a considerable distance beyond the sides of the boat for the oars to rest in. Many of these light craft may be seen on the Thames and Clyde, and other rivers throughout the kingdom. The larger sort do not require what we may call the outrigger rowlocks.
The “Rob Roy” canoe has, of late years, come much into fashion as a racing and pleasure boat. Whatever the advantages of this craft may be, it has this disadvantage, that it can hold only one person; so that it may be styled an unsocial craft, the company of one or more friends being impossible, unless, indeed, one or more canoes travel in company.
This species of canoe became celebrated some years ago, in consequence of an interesting and adventurous voyage of a thousand miles through Germany, Switzerland, and France, and, subsequently, through part of Norway and Sweden, made by Mr Macgregor in a craft of this kind, to which he gave the name of “Rob Roy.” Since the craft became popular, numerous and important improvements have been made in the construction of its hull and several parts, but its distinctive features remain unaltered. The “Rob Roy” canoe is, in fact, almost identical with the Eskimo kayak, except in regard to the material of which it is made—the former being composed wholly of wood, the latter of a framework of wood covered with skin. There is the same long, low, fish-like form, the same deck, almost on a level with the water, the same hole in the centre for the admission of the man, the same apron to keep out water, and the same long, double-bladed paddle, which is dipped on each side alternately. The “Rob Roy” has, however, the addition of a small mast, a lug-sail, and a jib. It has also a back-board, to support the back of the canoeman; the paddle, too, is somewhat shorter than that of the Eskimo canoe; and the whole affair is smarter, and more in accordance with the tastes and habits of the civilised men who use it.
In his various voyages, which we might almost style journeys, the originator of the “Rob Roy” canoe proved conclusively that there were few earthly objects which could form a barrier to his progress. When his canoe could not carry him, he carried it! Waterfalls could not stop him, because he landed below them, and carried his canoe and small amount of baggage to the smooth water above the falls. In this he followed the example of the fur-traders and Indians of North America, who travel over any number of miles of wilderness in this manner. Shallows could not stop him, because his little bark drew only a few inches of water. Turbulent water could not swamp him, because the waves washed harmlessly over his smooth deck, and circled innocently round his protective apron. Even long stretches of dry land could not stop him, because barrows, or carts, or railways could transport his canoe hither and thither with perfect ease to any distance; so that when the waters of one river failed him, those of the next nearest were easily made available. In conclusion, it may be said that the “Rob Roy” canoe is a most useful and pleasant craft for boys and young men, especially at those watering-places which have no harbour or pier, and where, in consequence of the flatness of the beach, boats cannot easily be used.
It 
would be an almost endless as well as unprofitable task to go over the names and characteristics of all our various kinds of boats in detail.
Of heavy-sterned and clumsy river craft, we have an innumerable fleet.
There are also Torbay Trawlers, which are cutters of from twenty to fifty tons; and the herring-boats of Scotland; and cobbles, which are broad, bluff, little boats; and barges, which are broad, bluff, large ones; and skiffs, and scows, and many others.
In foreign lands many curious boats are to be met with. The most graceful of them, perhaps, are those which carry lateen sails—enormous triangular sails, of which kind each boat usually carries only one.
India-rubber boats there are, which can be inflated with a pair of bellows, and, when full, can support half-a-dozen men or more, while, when empty, they can be rolled up and carried on the back of one man, or in a barrow. One boat of this kind we once saw and paddled in. It was made in the form of a cloak, and could be carried quite easily on one’s shoulders. When inflated, it formed a sort of oval canoe, which was quite capable of supporting one person. We speak from experience, having tried it some years ago on the Serpentine, and found it to be extremely buoyant, but a little given to spin round at each stroke of the paddle, owing to its circular shape and want of cut-water or keel.
Of all the boats that swim, the lifeboat is certainly one of the most interesting; perhaps it is not too much to add that it is also one of the most useful. But this boat deserves a chapter to itself.
When our noble Lifeboat Institution was in its infancy, a deed was performed by a young woman which at once illustrates the extreme danger to which those who attempt to rescue the shipwrecked must expose themselves, and the great need there was, thirty years ago, for some better provision than existed at that time for the defence of our extensive sea-board against the dire consequences of storm and wreck. It is not, we think, inappropriate to begin our chapter on lifeboats with a brief account of the heroic deed of:—
Grace Darling.There are not many women who, like Joan of Arc, put forth their hands to the work peculiarly belonging to the male sex, and achieve for themselves undying fame. And among these there are very few indeed who, in thus quitting their natural sphere and assuming masculine duties, retain their feminine modesty and gentleness.
Such a one, however, was Grace Darling. She did not, indeed, altogether quit her station and follow a course peculiar to the male sex; but she did once seize the oar and launch fearlessly upon the raging sea, and perform a deed which strong and daring men might have been proud of—which drew forth the wondering admiration of her country, and has rendered her name indissolubly connected with the annals of heroic daring in the saving of human life from vessels wrecked upon our rock-bound shores.
Grace Darling was born in November 1815, at Bamborough, on the Northumberland coast. Her father was keeper of the lighthouse on the Longstone, one of the Farne Islands lying off that coast; and here, on a mere bit of rock surrounded by the ocean, and often by the howling tempests and the foaming breakers of that dangerous spot, our heroine spent the greater part of her life, cut off almost totally from the joys and pursuits of the busy world. She and her mother managed the domestic economy of the lighthouse on the little islet, while her father trimmed the lantern that sent a blaze of friendly light to warn mariners off that dangerous coast.
In personal appearance Grace Darling is described as having been fair and comely, with a gentle, modest expression of countenance; about the middle size; and with nothing in the least degree masculine about her. She had reached her twenty-second year when the wreck took place in connection with which her name has become famous.
The Farne Islands are peculiarly dangerous. The sea rushes with tremendous force between the smaller islands, and, despite the warning light, wrecks occasionally take place among them. In days of old, when men had neither heart nor head to erect lighthouses for the protection of their fellows, many a noble ship must have been dashed to pieces there, and many an awful shriek must have mingled with the hoarse roar of the surf round these rent and weatherworn rocks.
A gentleman who visited the Longstone rock in 1838, describes it thus:—
“It was, like the rest of these desolate isles, all of dark whinstone, cracked in every direction, and worn with the action of winds, waves, and tempests since the world began. Over the greater part of it was not a blade of grass, nor a grain of earth; it was bare and iron-like stone, crusted, round all the coast as far as high-water mark, with limpet and still smaller shells. We ascended wrinkled hills of black stone, and descended into worn and dismal dells of the same; into some of which, where the tide got entrance, it came pouring and roaring in raging whiteness, and churning the loose fragments of whinstone into round pebbles, and piling them up in deep crevices with seaweeds, like great round ropes and heaps of fucus. Over our heads screamed hundreds of hovering
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