Sail it, Stow it, or Sell it?
Our new game asks sailors to tell us the unvarnished truth...
Here’s a game we like to call: Sail it, Stow it, or Sell it
We’ll list various boat-related gear. You tell us whether you would Sail it (meaning you like it or would keep it close at hand always) Stow it (maybe keep it somewhere around the boat or shop) or Sell it (don’t like or not needed).
Today’s contestant is sailor and author, Marlin Bree.
OK, here go….feel free to place your own votes to Sail, Stow or Sell in the comment section below. —Eds
Satin finish varnish
“Sell it! Not for us (my boat and me). I saw a couple of wood veneer/ epoxy boats bright finished in Honolulu (Sweet Okole) when Gerry Spiess was doing his trans-Pacific crossing in his 10-foot plywood sloop, Yankee Girl, and Golden Daisy. I checked with Meade Gougeon, and when I asked how his bright finished boats were holding up and he responded (a slip of paper with message written in pencil) that Golden Daisy “still shines bright.” Good enough for me, and, I have been using Captains Z Spar varnish ever since, lo these 44 years. No satin finish for us. Meade's message still shines bright in my boatshop.”
Phone or tablet with nav app
“Stow it. A phone will do, I suppose. Actually what I used on my Sweetwater Sea (Lake Superior) cruises into the wilderness northern shores was a dozen paper maps, both U.S. and Canadian, as well as relied upon my Garmin GPS. I had a depthsounder on as well as a knotmeter, and sometimes I relied upon my big depthsounder, my mild steel centerboard. The latter never failed to let me know if I hit an unidentified reef. Bang! the noise whanged up, along with Persistence's shudder. But no harm done, since the centerboard was a swing up one, and I pulled up my CB a little from a line that led to my cockpit, and I changed course. “
Dark Rum
“Sail it! Oh, yes! On my solo voyages, I carried dark rum on board Persistence to be used in case of snakebite. Unfortunately, I did not carry any snakes, so I had to make do with self-medication as the captain deemed fit. This occurred when the flag was over the yardarm (and not when I was sailing) with the thought that somewhere the sun was over the yardarm. And I was the captain. Cheers!”
Wool socks
“Sail it! There is a saying on Superior: wool saves—cotton kills. So I always at least wear wool socks, preferably Merino wool (very soft). This is when I am going formal; usually I just stuff my bare feet into a good pair of leather-lined boat mocs. Why wear wool, besides socks? The world's largest freshwater lake is very cold, and, should you go in or get splashed (easy enough, on a 20-foot sloop), wool provides insulation and keeps you warm even when wet. Cotton does not.”
Inflatable PFD
“Stow it. They're nice, but I don't own one. What I’ve got are some good Sterns PFDs as well as a Sterns North Sea suit, which has quarter-inch foam sewn in between heavy nylon cloth and used by working offshore oil drillers—as well as a few, fortunate few, solo sailors. These suits are warm and windproof in an open cockpit on the open waters.”
Wheel steering
“Sell it! You can't really feel what your boat is trying to tell you with wheel steering. A well-built tiller, customized for your ownself (your own reach, height, and grasp*-- will get you in touch with the water below. Is the helm a little heavy? Or the boat slow? Or is something dragging: your tiller directly connected to your rudder, preferably on a stern mount, will provide you with a lot of useful information, if you will but pay attention. Hey, you're out there together. there's a lot of water around. Your boat has something to say. Listen up!”
Marlin Bree wrote a piece, with illustrations, on making your own tiller in an earlier issue of Small Craft Advisor magazine. He argues you should not be satisfied with the factory one-size-fits-all tillers, but should sit in your cockpit, reach out and figure how far from the cockpit floor you want your tiller, what kind of curve you want to clear your knees, determine how long you want it, and what kind of grip you want (he suggests going to a hardware store and picking out a screwdriver with a grip that fits you hand most comfortably and then replicate that on your tiller.) His own choice: an egg-shaped grip sized to fit his right hand.
Marlin Bree is a long-time contributor to SCA and the author of numerous nautical books including his latest, Bold Sea Stories 2. This nonfiction book is composed of 26 chapters with over 50 photos and illustrations and includes chapters on Gerry Spiess's near-fatal fight with a North Atlantic Storm in his 10-foot Yankee Girl and Marlin's bare survival in "the storm of the century" —a rare progressive Derecho with 123 mph downbursts. •SCA•
As the rare sailor that does not drink, I would put the rum in the "sell it" category. Everything else is spot on, though I do love my spar varnish..
Back in the mid 1960s I stood watches on the bridge of a WW2 destroyer. Part of this included time on the helm. After enough practice, I could feel what the ship was doing and counter that motion with the wheel. I became good enough at it that my general quarters and special sea detail assignment was as helmsman on the bridge. Any time we were refueling or replenishing at sea, or leaving/entering port I was steering the ship, so I am familiar enough with wheel steering.
On the other hand, my small sailboat experience has been with tillers, and at this point in life I would have nothing else. I see no need for a wheel until the tiller has to be so long as to be unwieldy in order to turn the rudder.
Last bit of trivia, watch the movie In Harm's Way where you can see the USS Philip (renamed the Cassidy for the movie) storming out of Pearl Harbor with (you guessed it) me steering. And I'm NOT the guy shown behind the wheel in one of the scenes in the flick.