I noticed a while ago that our friend Gary Dierking, the Kiwi outrigger maestro, has been running a blog to compliment and promote his work. Take this as a study in how well I am doing at keeping up on this blog these days – I am just now getting to an appreciation of this resource on these amazing craft. And an appreciation it deserves, because there is some great stuff here.
I particularly enjoyed Gary’s thorough study of ama lashings, done in six parts (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, and part 6). These posts provide good pictures of the different types as well as their derivation and advantages. Now he is on to different rig types, with the most recent post giving a nice overview. We’ll certainly be watching – and learning from – this excellent blog.
I actually had the crazed idea to read a book recently. Doesn’t happen much – I am lucky if I can clear my magazine rack in a given month. Long on my to do list, though, had been reading some of Tim Severin’s works. Severin is an Irishman (at least he lives there) with an fascinating joint interest in history, archeology, and epic voyages, mostly maritime ones. Sound intriguing? It gets better. Severin’s shtick has been to identify an unproven or poorly understood historical journey, build a traditional boat, if a maritime one, that represents the type of that era, and then recreate the journey to see if it could have happened as theorized. Oh yeah, I am IN! I have known about him for a while and only just got around to checking him out.
Also in the June/July issues of Maine Boats, Homes & Harbors magazine I learned about the Mill River Race, a fantastic-sounding race in and around Vinalhaven, ME. Rather than a standard ’round the buoys deal, the race is an out-and-back through narrow passages. In the map below, it seems to start in the Fox Islands Thoroughfare, near the North Haven label, and head Southeast into that tidal river. That just seems tons of fun because it is so unusual and unconstrained – except by raw nature. Quoting from the article: “… things get tight as the dinghies squeeze through tiny passages, some little more than a boat-length wide… small islands and big rocks create random lees…” I dig that.
Of course it helps that the race is run in North Haven Dinghies, a classic class of gaff-cats. They look like great little boats. Check out this slide show of the race.
I was in Seattle for business last week, which allowed me to make a pilgrimage to the Center for Wooden Boats, a place so cool I cannot contain it to a single post, nor even two. In fact, friends, a roughly two-and-a half-hour visit gave me four interesting posts to lay out for you. This place is everything I expected and then a bunch more.
Here’s the overview, for those not familiar. The Center for Wooden Boats is, on the surface, a museum of small, classic boats that happens, unlike others of its type, to be set smack in the middle of a major American city. Right away, that gives it some cache. The thing that first drew me to the place, however, and I have known of it for a couple years, was the fact that this museum has a livery service. In short, for many of the boats, you can not only touch them, you can use them. At a very reasonable cost, too. Brilliant concept, and I have been itching to check it out. Thursday, 6/12, was the big day.
After looking around a bit, I found my way to the livery shack, where the manager, Zach, gave me a going-over on my sailing chops before letting me free on Lake Union. There were some nice options: a few Beetle cats (never actually sailed one), some small prams (seemed a bit tame), some knockabouts (a bit much for single-handing, first time out). Then something a little different caught my eye: the boat I was to come to know as the Cape Ann dory Q-ONA. Now she was the ticket.
Several minutes later, I was aboard and skippering Q’ONA across Lake Union (which, for those who haven’t experienced it, is real lake sailing, with 30 degree wind direction changes and the like). With a gunter rig and small jib, she sailed well in the pleasant breeze. The biggest challenge was the one design feature that was really new to me: the push tiller. Yikes – that was weird. Everything you know is wrong. For the uninitiated, the tiller extends to an arm the sticks out athwartships from the head of the rudder. You basically operate the rudder by pushing and pulling on this arm with the tiller, so going to starboard was always a pull forward and port always a push aft. My reflexes are so tuned moving the tiller toward or away from the sail to tack and jibe, though, that I got fouled up there. It was fun to play with this boat and get to know this style.
Unbeknownst to me when I first selected Q’ONA, she occupies an esteemed spot on the “Bud’s Favorites” list (named for a longtime volunteer). I began to sense that my tastes pleased the regulars. As I was heading to the boat to embark, I guy passing by on the float beamed at me and said boisterously “Dude! I love that you are taking the dory out. That’s awesome!” I’m telling you, this place is fantastic.
And so, like all good things, another set of sessions with Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum’sApprentice for a Day program has ended. And what a way to go – sailing a Delaware Ducker, the sister of the one on which I have been working. We got two little sails in, with some fine tuning of the rigging in between. Video of the sail is below; note that I shot it before we tightened up the snotter to get the sail to lie right. Enjoy, and thanks to our new friends at Chesapeake Bay Maritime Museum!
Here are the completed boats. That red one is just amazingly beautiful…
I came upon the site for the Hawaiian Sailing Canoe Association tonight. Mostly info about their race series, but they do have a nice photo gallery that is worth looking at. Looks like these boats absolutely fly – I need to try one.
Thanks to WoodenBoat’s RudderPosts blog, for pointing out a nice new site for our collection. Attainable Adventure Cruising is a collection of tips, tricks, how-tos, etc. for those seeking a little more pizazz in their cruise than Penobscot Bay in July. It is produced by a couple that has cruised to Greenland – three times – as well as Newfoundland, Spitsbergen, and Norway. Looks like these two don’t fool around and know the ins and outs of how to approach serious cruising. Good catch, RudderPosts.
Some of our kindred spirits have been hard at work. Canoe Sailing Magazine has launched online – congrats to the proud authors! I just noticed its birth just this evening and haven’t looked at it much, but I am fairly confident I won’t live to regret giving it the Chine bLog stamp of approval in the form of a place in our Honor Roll and RSS reader. Todd Bradshaw, he of Canoe Rig fame, seems to be in the mix, so I’m in based on that alone. This looks fantastic, folks – well done!
For those not in the know, Frank Dye began investigating the possibilities of dinghy cruising in the early ’60s. He bought a Wayfarer dinghy and began going offshore, into – and then across – the North Sea. He survived force 8 gales and kept pushing. The book details two voyages: one from Northern Scotland to Iceland and one form Northern Scotland to the Faeroe Islands and then central Norway. Both were double-handed trips, and both are full of the fine line between expert seamanship and sheer lunacy. It is all, however, entertaining, the moreso because of Dye’s no-ego style (Margaret’s words based on Frank’s logs).
Even more interesting is the appendices, which detail the supply lists and lessons learned from the trips (the Dye’s went on to do many more dinghy cruises). In particular, he reviews equipment choices (including updates in the newer edition on more modern alternatives) and even maps out rigging / layout he used on the Wayfarer WANDERER. Its fascinating and makes you think a bit about following the Dye’s brave lead…
Posted on April 22nd, 2009
Take this as a study in how well I am doing at keeping up on this blog these days – I am just now getting to an appreciation of this resource on these amazing craft. And an appreciation it deserves, because there is some great stuff here.
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Apparently there are a group of archeologists who believe (or believed, as of the early 1990s) that there was contact between East Asian cultures and Central American cultures within the last couple millennia. 
You basically operate the rudder by pushing and pulling on this arm with the tiller, so going to starboard was always a pull forward and port always a push aft. My reflexes are so tuned moving the tiller toward or away from the sail to tack and jibe, though, that I got fouled up there. It was fun to play with this boat and get to know this style.
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