In picking a canoe, the safest and fastest model
has a quite flat bottom, with a sharp, round turn to the bilge. The
tippy ones are those deep and round on the bottom with no bilge, having
no more stability than a barrel. The flat bottom draws but little
water, slides over the stream like a duck, and it makes her a prime
sailer because she is so staunch. The dimensions of my own canoe, a
faster canoe by hours than many another model which she has raced
downstream, are: length, 16 feet; beam, 33 inches; depth amidships, 12
inches; depth bow and stern, 24 inches; width of comparatively flat
bottom, 24 inches. The cheaper type $20 canoe, one of which is owned by
my boys, has the following dimensions: length, 15 feet 6 inches; beam,
31 inches; depth amidships, 12-1/2 inches; depth, bow and stern, 22
inches; width of comparatively flat bottom, 16 inches. This latter
canoe is much more tottly than mine, hard to sail and nowhere near so
staunchly built. Both canoes weigh about 60 pounds.
Having purchased the canoe, the first thing to learn is
how to paddle her. The sign of the novice is his reaching far ahead for
his water. Do not let yourself do that; you have no leverage there,
most of your strength is to be put in as the left wrist passes your
left hip, the while your right hand is sweeping the top of the paddle
forward. This will put your shoulder and body into it and the motion
can be kept up all day without fatigue. If paddling with another fellow
in the bow, the stern man is always captain, and he is to correct with
a turn of his paddle any deviation from the true course during each
stroke. Your mate may be weaker than you, and the canoe then tends to
swing towards his paddle side, which is generally opposite to yours. In
that case, correct him at the end of each of your strokes with a turn
of the paddle.
If paddling alone it makes a vast difference where you sit
as to how the canoe behaves. Abandon the rear seat and find a place
kneeling somewhere just forward of the rear crossbrace. Here you can
paddle on one side indefinitely, holding the paddle blade at a slight
angle inwards from straight across. If you find that the canoe tends to
sheer away from course opposite from the side where you are paddling,
move a bit further forward and alter the angle of your paddle slightly
until you get her balanced just right. It is the only way to win a
race, for the time lost in correcting your course at each stroke, as
you would have to do sitting in the rear seat, will lose you out every
time.
River paddling, especially in rapid white water, is full
of kinks which you have to know and use instantly. If the bow man,
never embarrass the stern man by striking at rocks, etc., with your
paddle. You will do no good whatever, and may upset the canoe. The
water always takes care of the bow, the stern is the thing to be swung
clear with the paddle. You report "Rock ahead!" and be sure that he
sees it, and then leave it to him. His stunt is to backpaddle the stern
of the canoe away from the position of the obstruction when the current
will swing the bow, as it is flowing faster than the canoe is going.
The bow man's hard work comes going around bends. The river tends to
swing the canoe into the main eddies and your aim is to keep out of
them, cutting across in the still water. If you want hard work going
downstream just let the canoe stay indefinitely in the deepest and
fiercest waters! And so the bow man must anticipate the river each time
and get his bow headed out of the eddies and into the quiet part of the
bends, as here the stern man can aid but little. As soon as the bow is
right the stern man puts in his strength and shoves her ahead across
the head of the bend. Never back paddle at these times, you lose all
your steerage way and put yourself at the mercy of the current.
Down trees and shallows require instant decision as to
where to take them and agreement at the same time between bow and stern
as to what they are going to do. Don't argue or fight when the river is
bearing you swiftly on the obstacle! All other things being equal, the
stern paddle has the say. There is usually a hole around one end or the
other of the tree through which the canoe can be snaked. Occasionally
it is advisable to cross the stream without going either up or down,
and to do this, bow back paddles lightly and stern paddles forward
heavily, which will have the effect of holding the canoe stationary at
a slant upward to the stream. The current will then take her across.
In approaching a down tree which cannot be gotten around,
back her and let her swing about gently until broadside to the stream
alongside the log. Pull out the heaviest duffle and set on log. One man
stands on the log on either side of the canoe, and between them she is
slid over. Most of the duffle can be left aboard.
In rocky waters, go ahead and look over the rapids before
venturing out, for once started there is no turning back. More than
once you will need to have the courage to be a coward, -- for it takes
a brave man to say "No !" when an inexperienced crowd want to run a
rapids that better men than any of them have portaged around. If there
is a portage trail it is a pretty fair sign that most canoeists go
around instead of shooting the rapids. Look for a landing, apparently
much used, or a blazed tree, or tin can on a sapling. If you have
decided to run, see that all duffle is lashed securely and go to it,
the stern man being the responsible one. As the current splits over
rocks it forms a cushion which will float your bow away if the stern
man but guides it in the current and takes care to keep his stern
clear. Keep where there is plenty of current and water but avoid the
main bend, if possible, particularly if there are many rocks. Back
paddle and let her come down easy at all points of danger.
The stern paddle should be heavy, of hard maple and copper
shod, five feet long, 28-inch blade, 6-1/2 inches wide. The bow paddle
is lighter, of spruce, five feet long, 26-inch blade, 5-1/2 inches
wide. If upset in a rapids, hang to the canoe and let the paddles go;
you can find them somewhere in an eddy downstream later, but to swim
after them in rough water is folly. One man takes the bow and the other
the stern, and you work her ashore as soon as possible, build a
conflagration and dry out everything. In traversing, i.e., crossing, a
lake or bay, look carefully at your whitecaps first, or indications of
wind if the water is calm.
A canoe lightly loaded will live in an incredible sea;
heavily loaded she becomes logy and a death trap. Once in November I
came spinning down the Metedeconk River with seven miles of white water
behind me in which even a heavy 25-foot launch made desperate weather.
I had my boy and a chum along and all our duffle, but one look at the
whitecaps made me decide on a backpacking expedition for them along
shore, while I took the canoe alone. I left 50 pounds of duffle in her
and started downwind for a point three miles away.
It was sure a wild ride! The seas were three to four feet
high, whitecapped, and the wind so strong that it blew the canoe bodily
across the waters. Gradually I worked the canoe out abreast of the
point, but I blew down on it so fast that I suddenly realized that I
would clear it, if at all, only by the most desperate paddling. As it
was, I ran into the big combers off the point, the second one of which
picked up the canoe broadside and curled her over as if to dash her
bottom up on the shoals.
"No you don't!" I gasped, and, shoving hard down on the
weather gunwale with my elbow, I righted her and took the sea aboard.
It filled her a third full of water, but, before the next comber could
pour in its cap, I had flown around the point and was in the still
water under its lee, where the boys soon joined me. So, if you must
traverse, and the seas are high and choppy, better make it in two trips
lightly loaded than try to do it in one and get swamped. When you see a
sea about to curl aboard, give the canoe a flip so she shows her bottom
to the wave, when it will go under you and all will be well.
If any come in and there are likely to be more, lay to,
and one boy (bow) starts bailing. Always have your paddle tied to the
crossbar by about eight feet of small cotton rope in making a traverse
and have the duffle loose. If swamped or upset, hang to your paddle and
regain the canoe, for it's a drowning matter if she gets away from you.
In reasonably still waters one boy alone can bail out an
upset canoe. There are two good methods, rocking it out and shoving it
out. In the first, swim around to the stern of the canoe and get the
water inside rocking from side to side so that it flops out at each
reverse. As soon as enough is out to give her a few inches of freeboard
get aboard over her stern and dash out the rest with your hands.
"Shoving" the water out also depends on the momentum of a body of
water. Swim astern, and, grasping the stern breasthook, give her a
smart pull towards you. The water will slop out in a torrent over her
bows. Then shove away from you with all your strength and the water
will come rushing aft and slop out over her stern. Keep this up until
about half emptied, when get aboard over her stern and dash out the
rest with your hands.
No boy under sixteen years is strong enough to be
successful with either of these methods, but by lying down in her when
she is awash the water can be dashed out if you are patient and do not
try to move about. I do not believe that a single man or boy can bail
out a swamped canoe in a heavy blow. Stick to her, for she is your only
hope, and get overboard all the heavy duffle. If the water is not too
cold, take time to get out some twine or fish line and buoymark rifles,
axes, etc., by lowering them to the bottom and tying a floating duffle
bag at the surface anchored by the gun. This leaves the canoe free;
right her and get into her still awash. Watch your chance to get water
out and do so at every opportunity. Sooner or later she will drift
ashore, and, if you feel yourself getting numb, rest your head on bow
or stern cross brace and keep quiet. If the water is cold, act quickly;
heave out all duffle, right the canoe, get in and bail steadily with
your hat or any container. You may beat out the waves, and at least
will keep exercising while you drift to the shore.
But upsets and the like seldom happen more than a few
times in a lifetime with a staunch canoe, most of which are more able
than a rowboat of the same size. The portage is the surest preventative
of disasters, and how to do it right is worth knowing. Two men, each
carrying an end of a canoe under their arms, will work much harder than
one man alone carrying it properly. Even carrying it upside down, with
an end over each man's head is preferable, but the time-honored Hudson
Bay method is to lash the paddles to the middle and forward thwart
braces, the blades of the paddles resting on the middle thwart. Then,
when you turn the canoe over, your head will go between the two paddles
and the blades rest on your shoulders. With a coat or sweater bunched
up on each shoulder you can carry an ordinary 60-pound canoe with ease
while the other boy packs the duffle. Keep your baggage low in weight
if you are going to have many portages, for double tripping it means
three times the time and work lost. Suppose you have a two-mile portage
from one lake to the other. With a single trip that is two miles to the
lake, launch the canoe and on your way; with a double trip you have two
miles there loaded, two miles back empty, and two miles there again
loaded-six miles! Ever hike six miles along a woods trail, with no load
at all? I'd rather do that two miles in one lap if I had to stop and
rest every five minutes!
CANOE SAILING
If one has but a moiety of the real Indian spirit in him
he will have a pronounced aversion to anything even in a remote degree
resembling work. Paddling a canoe comes under this head; you don't
realize this until once under sail in the same canoe, where she goes
right along like a greased eel with no more effort on your part than
the exercise of a little skill and judgment. And, if you give her all
the sail power she is really capable of, you will get such exciting
hikes, such breathless speed, such a glory of existence out of that
canoe as you never dreamed of.
A full-powered sail canoe is in the same class as regards
thrills and sport as a game fish or carnivorous big game, -- any of
these will keep your hands full mastering their tricks with all the
resourcefulness at your command. Far be it from me to utter a word
counter to the delicious memories of day-long paddles in the open
Indian canoe, down green-arched rivers, across long whitecapped lakes
and down rushing streams. But I have other memories; of the open ocean
and the green-sedged marsh; of wide estuaries and hill-rimmed bays,
where the decked canvas canoe, heeled down to the cockpit coaming under
the stress of her great white sails, tore and raced over and through
the long ocean swells, -- when every black catspaw put you out over the
pickle with your toes hooked under the opposite coaming and that little
witch lay down and shot through the whitecaps like a flying fish!
And these breathless memories far eclipsed the best sport
that the Indian canoe affords -- taken strictly and solely as canoeing.
If you have no portaging to do and your river or chain of
lakes affords reasonable searoom, I prefer a single sail and a pair of
leeboards for the open model canoe. Take along a leg-o'-mutton sail,
eight feet hoist by nine feet along the foot, of American drilling,
hemmed and provided with grommets every foot along the luff. This takes
but little space in your kit and can be bent to a spruce sapling as a
mast with plenty good enough results. Spread it with a sprit of light
spruce or birch which you can cut in the woods. She will go right along
with such a rig, but will make leeway like a floating leaf if you have
no leeboards. For canoe voyaging I prefer these of the folding,
collapsible type.
The sail for my Morris,
which I have used for over four years in lake and bay cruises, has a
2-inch diameter mast, 6 feet 9 inches long; and a lateen rig, 10-foot
2-inch head, and 11-foot 2-inch foot, with 10-foot 6-inch leach. The
jaw is attached to bring the mast 19 inches from the fore peak of the
sail. The sail is made of light 4-ounce duck canvas and with it she is
very fast. The mast is stepped with a crossbrace, attachable with brass
hooks and wingnuts, and the foot step is screwed stoutly to three ribs,
giving the mast a very slight rake backwards. The leeboards for this
rig are gotten out of inch spruce and are 30 inches long with a 12 x
20-inch blade. They are secured to stout shoes on the ends of the cross
piece by brass wing nuts passing through holes in the shank of the
leeboards. The cross piece is 1 x 5 x 38 inches long.
To make your own leeboards whittle
out of clear spruce two blades about the size and shape of your broad
double paddle blade with square stocks 3 by 7/8-inches.
Get a pair of brass 3-inch hinges and cut a length of
clear spruce 3 by 1 inches, a foot longer than the canoe is wide. Lay
it across the gunwale of your canoe and mark where the two shanks of
the leeboards will come to fit snug up to the gunwale. Screw on the
hinges, facing inward so that the leeboards will fold toward each
other. The length of the leeboard does not need to exceed 24 inches,
all told, and should fine off to a thin edge much as does a broad-blade
canoe paddle. Having screwed the hinges fast, erect the two leeboards
so that they stand upright bringing up hard-and-fast on the ends of
their own shanks. They should then stand a little outward. Get two
heavy brass hooks, such as are used aboard ship for doors and skylight
hatches, and screw the eye of these hooks onto the back of the paddle,
and the shackle of the book onto your spruce cross-rail, letting the
hooks come over at about 45 degrees and planting them so that when each
hook is snapped into its eye it will hold its leeboard upright, firm
and solid.
To use the board set the cross-rail across the canoe with
the leeboards in the water on each side of the canoe. The cross-rail is
lashed to the cockpit coaming by a couple of turns of marlin around two
cleats screwed to either side of the coaming inside, below where the
rail will cross, i.e., a little forward of amidships. Twelve inches
wide by 24 inches long is plenty leeboard enough for an ordinary
16-foot canoe.
For canvas-decked canoe I have used a number of different
sails, including leg-o'-mutton and lateen, but have finally come to
prefer the Canadian Club canoe sail, with short stubby mast and long
gaff cocked up almost vertically. This sail has less spar weight than
the lateen, practically the same weight as the leg-o'-mutton, and has
not the bad leach of the latter, because the batten keeps it flat and
well spread. It is a wonder for quick reefing as one can lower the
gaff, tie the batten to the boom at both ends and the middle, and hoist
away again in less than three minutes. In making it, avoid too-heavy
spars.
SAIL PLAN Waterat IV
Click here
for larger image.
For a 12-foot canoe, the boom and gaff of the mainsail
should be six feet long, each of 1-1/4-inch clear spruce, tapering to
3/4-inch at each end. Batten, 1-1/4 x 3/8-inch 4 feet 10 inches long
and mainmast 5 feet 6 inches long, of 1-1/2-inch spruce, tapering to
3/4-inch; material of sail, American drilling. Mizzen sail boom and
gaff 4 feet each, of 1-inch spruce, tapering to 1/2-inch, batten 1 x
3/8-inch 3 feet 6 inches long. Hoist of mainsail, 2 feet 6 inches, of
mizzen, 1 foot 6 inches.
You will note from this that only two mast rings are
needed on the mainmast and one on the mizzen.
To cut out sails the easiest scheme is to stake out the
dimensions, either on a lawn or in a large empty room, and run a string
around the stakes or tacks, giving the outline of the sail. Lay the
canvas parallel to the leach (rear outer edge of sail), and cut as many
gores as will be needed, allowing an inch of hem. Leave 1-1/2 inches
overlap along the line of the batten, and when the two parts of the
sail are done, turn under and sew the overlap, forming a sort of pocket
1-1/2-inch wide into which the batten can be slipped. Along the head,
foot, and luff of the sail will be wanted brass 3/8-inch grommets,
which are little brass eyeholes through which the lashing rope is run.
These grommets space about 9 inches, and are easily put in by punching
a hole in the hem, slipping in the male half of the grommet, putting on
the ring and turning over with a fid, or, in lieu of any such nautical
implement a large 20-penny wire nail.
To make the spars buy the stock from a door-and-sash mill
in the rough square or rounded if they keep it. They will rip it off a
clear plank for you for a few cents more than the cost of the plank.
Work the spars round with a jack-plane and a spokeshave, finish to a
nice taper each way from the middle (except the mast, which tapers from
the foot), sandpaper and varnish with marine spar varnish. Whittle the
jaws for the gaff out of natural bend maple forks giving them the
proper twist so as to seize the mast when the gaff is cocked up taut.
All the running rigging, lashings, reef points, etc., should be of
white 1/8-inch cotton rope and the blocks (pulleys) of 1/8-inch
galvanized iron.
The main sheet (rope) is single and is held in the hand
while sailing (it pulls about as hard as a large dog). The mizzen sheet
is made fast on a cleat on the rear deck after trimming true to the
wind. It should pass through a brass screw eye on the rudder head, so
as to sway clear at each tack. The rudder is best managed by a yoke on
the head of it, with steering lines running flat over the rear deck and
through screw eyes along the inside of the cockpit. The steer rope is
endless and taut throughout its length. To steer you can grab it
anywhere, and wherever you leave it the rudder will stay. Most of canoe
steering is done by sails alone. A centerboard can be done without in a
canvas canoe, as the 3-inch fin keel gives her plenty of grip on the
water, but an 8 inch x 36 inch keel board fastened to the keel with
carriage bolts and ring nuts as described in Part Two, Chapter III, is
a great aid.
A word to the inexperienced as to the value of the mizzen
or dandy. With it a canoe is far safer than with the mainsail alone,
because the tendency of the dandy is always to shove you up into the
wind. The minute you spill the wind out of the mainsail (too strong a
catspaw) the dandy shoves you safely up into the wind unless checked by
the rudder. Without it the canoe would simply knock down and probably
fall off the wind, thus filling the mainsail again just when you don't
want it, and, unless you check her immediately with the rudder, you are
in for very serious trouble indeed. With the dandy astern she will be
much faster, safer and quicker to mind her helm, and the only reason I
do not advocate it for the open Indian canoe is because of the high
curling stern of the latter.
More ...
..
© 2002 Craig O'Donnell, editor & general factotum.
May not be reproduced without my permission.
Go scan your own damn
stuff.
