Means of Seeing what the eye brings

Been getting back into the dinghy lately. The rubrails are on, nice clear-grained Douglas Fir pieces, about the only thing we had laying around that was long and flexible enough, excepting some reserved-for-better-things lengths of teak and cherry. The rubrails were a real battle, with the compound curves, and owing to the fact that i wanted it to be a substantial piece, not merely decorative trim.
Now i’m fitting rail caps to the edges of the fore- and afterdeck, these out of teak offcuts. At very least, i have to get the rail forward finished very soon; the hardware for the whiskerstays fastens through the rail, and i need to get the rigging properly mocked with some tension to it for the sailmaker to make accurate measurements next week.
The only real rigging debate left in my mind now is concerning whether to leave provisions for a topsail or not. The options seem to be as follows: Cut down the topmast and peak up the gaff, for a tradional bald-headed cutter rig; leave the extended pole topmast and set a jackline topsail; or cut the topmast down, leaving the lower gaff angle, and set a yard topsail of some sort. Aestheticly, i like the latter, especially with a Cornish topsail, if for no other reason that to have a “trimminoggy” rigged. The first idea is probably the simplest, but i’d have to decide before the main is cut, and frankly, i’m not convinced to give up on that topsail yet.
The middle idea is probably what i’ll go with, but as John Leather says, a topsail on a small cutter ought to be set up in such a fashion as to be a working sail, otherwise it becomes an affectation. Well frankly, this whole boat is a bit of an affectation, with a big-boat rig on a small-boat hull. i guess what it really comes down to is that i really want to get out sailing under the three lowers before i make up my mind on that topsail.

QUESTION: What is a classic yacht?
ANSWER: by Nathaniel P. Benjamin
After nearly thirty years of continuous involvement with wooden sailing craft, I am more convinced than ever that a plank-on-frame vessel is the ultimate in yacht construction. Not only does this method produce an enduring vessel with integrity, heart and soul, but it also requires a process that is so ancient and noble as to inspire the builder to work above his ability, to continue challenging himself in his expression of the rarest combination of science and art. According to Webster, the word ‘classic’ properly defines a vessel designed and serving as a ‘standard of excellence’ with an additional caveat of equal import to be ‘enduring and traditional.’ In an age when ‘classic’ is so grossly distorted as to encompass an amorphous range of social unconsciousness from Coca Cola to a popular sitcom, we must remind ourselves of the real meaning of the word. A ‘classic yacht’ must represent a graceful and well-proportioned hull whose individual parts are not only enduring but are created by a traditional process of skill and inspiration. A classic yacht speaks to you in a distinct and compelling voice.

Work at a bit of a standstill on the new dinghy lately. i dan’t want to get too much set up, what with all the weather and associated nastiness always lurking just o’er the horizon.
Been out sailing as much as i can handle in the Dink still. Yesterday afternoon saw a glorious sail; running under the spinnaker west past Little Thatch, dropping the chute in the lee, and reaching waaaay over to the St. John shore (okay, it’s not that far, but far enough for a 7’dinghy!). Tacking in the lee of a small headland there, then one more long tack back into the cut and West End. Of course, the usual parade of tacks back up the harbour and home. A little sloppy out there in the straight; 4+ foot breaking waves look so much more threatening in such a tiny open craft! The new boat, of course, has a better bow shape for such things, as well as a proper foredeck; i shan’t feel so exposed then.
By way of avoiding the craziness in Carrot Bay, i’ve bailed out back to West End for a week, crashing on Centaurea. She’s a neat little boat, a 1965 Laurin Koster 32, one i’ve had my eyes on for some time. Sleeping aboard these last few nights has felt good; i’m falling in love! The boat has been on the hard for 6 or 7 years now, and the owner has now been awol for a little over 2; we’re just starting the lein process now, and for the cost of the outstanding storage, she may be mine yet!

i made it a point of my vacation to see the ships in Vancouver during my brief Canadian revisit. And? Well, i try to stick to the adage of “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all”. Still… Sea Vancouver was generally a bust. FRom my sailing experience, i can only say that the tallship viewing was a total cock-up; poor infrastructure abounded. The “TallShip Island” was a sand- and gravel-covered barge, with all sorts of gritty filth getting tracked onto the decks. The ferry service to/fro was pretty awful too. Even the event volunteers manning their stations were obviously dismayed at how things were turning out. Attendance was low overall (and don’t blame the weather! Vancouverites should be used to a little rain!), but the ship viewing still great enough to leave me wondering what would have happened if the anticipated numbers had actually shown up! My Lady Washington crew jacket and generally sailorly-looking visage got me into a few areas sans pass, but to get to see many of the boats, i lined up for over an hour for a $25 ferry.
There were, however, a few highlights. The first night, i went out to Jericho to see The Bill Of Rights. Invited below (by folks who seemed to know who i was, though i knew them not), i was surprised and delighted to see Jim Rich, who bounded over and welcomed me with a hearty embrace. Jim and i had crewed on the Lady a little over a year before. The next day, out on the “Island”, i got aboard the Lady, and had my hullos with the crew, some i had served with, some i had not. Good chats and laughs with Carley “Tall Ship Supermodel” Tallman and John Boy Morrison. i caught a ride from the “Island” into False Creek with a crew member from the R. Tucker Thompson, where i ran into Nate and Sarah, who i had crewed with for mere days a years or so ago. They had great tales to tell of European adventures and sailing politics. Unexpectedly, i ran into Elf manning a shoreside historical display. The tall ship community is a small one…
It was good to see some of those old crewmates, and neat to see the work that had been completed aboard the Lady in the past year. Of course, not all my memories and attachments to those past times are positive ones, but rather than feeling bittersweet about it, it was simply interersting to sit back and observe my own emotional flux. Of course, it would be silly not realize that every boat leaves a little mark on you…