Making Ready 4 : making sail

 Stargazer's mainsail is the twelve year old original. It has outlived two jibs. But now it is beginning to lose its shape. The time has come to commission a replacement. There are three decisions to take : What sailcloth to use, what construction to employ and who to make it?

 The choice of sailcloth breaks down into three options: moulded, laminate or woven. 

Moulded sails were pioneered by North Sails, under the 3Di brand name. This process lays load bearing fibres, aligned along the stress paths of the sail, over a three dimensional mould. This mould is specific to the sail being produced and determines its 'flying' aerofoil shape. The web of fibres is locked into position with a flexible resin before being heat cured. The end result is a low stretch lightweight sail. Durability is superior to that of laminates, but (almost certainly) inferior to that of wovens. I say 'almost certainly' because this technology is relatively young. Stargazer's berth neighbour, Reefer X, a hard raced X-99, invested in a full suit of 3Di three years ago. I am watching their longevity with interest. Two downsides which are known with certainty are : high price; and that repairs and winter maintenance are a specialist matter. Requiring a trip to the single UK North loft, on the South Coast. 

Laminate sailcloth is the forerunner to one piece moulded sails. In a laminate, load bearing fibres are sandwiched between two layers of mylar scrim and then glued. A wear and ultraviolet (sunlight) resistant taffeta is then stuck to the outer surfaces of this core. The end result is a low stretch membrane, which is cut into panels and assembled into a sail. The weight is higher than that of a moulded sail. But then the cost is around a third lower. The achilles heel of laminates is durability. One of Stargazer's jibs was laminate. It set beautifully, right up to the point when, at three years old, it delaminated. An experience which I know to be typical. Minor damage, to laminate sails, can be readily repaired on board, or by a sailmaker. But once the glue fails, and 'hernias' (splits) appear in the Mylar scrim, 'all the king's horses and all the kings men. . . [cannot]. . . put Humpty together again.'

Woven sailcloth has its roots in the fabric panels which drove the Viking longships. Those were made of flax (low stretch but prone to rot and laborious to produce) or wool (rot resistant, but heavy and liable to stretch). Much progress has been made, over the subsequent millennia, in a quest for the sailmaker's holy grail. A cloth which combines: low stretch, high durability, light weight and affordability, 

Dacron has universally replaced natural yarns. It is what Stargazer's current main (pictured above, double reefed) is made from. Wovens score well on all parameters, bar stretch. Weight is similar to that of laminates. Cost is lower than either laminate or moulded. Even quite major repairs can be carried out by almost anyone, anywhere. So far as durability is concerned, a woven cloth is the least susceptible to damage, be that by abrasion, ultraviolet or flogging in the wind. However, vulnerability to stretch means that a woven sail’s flying shape is never as stable, as that of the two more modern technologies, and deteriorates further, as it ages. Although its failure mode is a loss shape, rather than disintegration. A significant advantage to a cruising boat on passage.

But a predisposition to stretch is a fundamental failing for a sailcloth. Fortunately, there is a family of  'twenty first century' woven sailcloths, which address the stability shortcomings of Dacron wovens, whilst retaining, in large part, their other benefits. This is through the inclusion of, ultra low stretch, Dynema fibres in the weave. Hydranet Radial (pictured above) is a proprietary Dacron based cloth, produced by Dimension Polyant, and stabilised, along the diagonal, with Dynema.  

 Vectran, now woven by three manufacturers (Dimension Polyant, Contender and Bainbridge), takes a similar approach, but is stabilised along the horizontal axis. Costs are nudging up toward those of laminate cloths. Physical durability is on a par with conventional wovens, or better. Shape stability is a little short of laminates, but far superior to that of Dacron wovens.. Weight is similar. Repairability is as good as for a standard woven.

 These cloths seem to me to be the sailcloth sweet spot for the cruising sailor. Stargazer's current jib (now five years old and still setting well) is in Hydranet Radial. 

One last question remains, before a decision, on cloth type for Stargazer's new mainsail, can be finalised: That of the sail's construction. This is because the different Dynema reinforced wovens are optimised for specific construction methods.

 Leaving aside one piece moulded sails, there are two constructions: 'radial' and 'crosscut.' This Falmouth Working Boat, beating majestically off her mooring, has a crosscut main and a radial jib. The terms referring to the panel layout.

Both constructions take panels of cloth (woven or laminate) and join them, to produce a sail with an aerofoil shape when hoisted. This three dimensional shape is created by cutting adjacent panels with a curve, to the edges along which they meet. The luff (front edge) of the resulting sail is also built with a curve. Thereby forcing more shape into the sail, when this elliptical edge is is attached to the straight(er) mast. (A crosscut sail is shown above).

Due to the more complex panel layout, of a radial cut sail (pictured above), more shape can be dialed into it, than into one that is crosscut. The two constructions also differ in how the loads within the sail are carried. Again, the radial sail has the advantage. Its panel design gives the sailmaker a greater ability to align the, low stretch, warp of the cloth with the load, so as to maximise stability. In terms of cost, crosscut construction regains some lost ground. With fewer seams and significantly less cloth wastage, a crosscut sail is typically three quarters of the price of an equivalent radial cut sail.

Stargazer's jib is high aspect ratio, like the Falmouth Working Boat's: tall, narrow, and highly loaded. Radial construction is therefore required. Hydranet Radial (as the name suggests) is optimised for this panel layout. It was therefore the clear choice. 

Stargazer's mainsail has a lower aspect ratio (is wider for its height). Additionally the sail is supported by, not only the mast and boom, but also by four full length battens. It is therefore subject to lower loadings, than the jib. These characteristics suit a crosscut construction, for which Vectran is optimised. 

All Vectrans are not created equal, however. The Dimension Polyant and Contender Vectrans look similar, with a 'pinstripe' of Dynema fibres running across the sail (see the picture above the Falmouth Working Boat). Whereas the Bainbridge HSX-V version of Vectran distributes the Dynema in a more even, 'rip-stop' (or grid), pattern (picture above). To my mind, this offers the potential for greater panel stability. Decisions one and two are made: Stargazer's new main will be of crosscut construction in Bainbridge HSX-V.

That leaves decision number three. Who is to make Stargazer's new sail?  This project has been eighteen months in gestation. Giving plenty of opportunity to ponder the options, and to visit lofts, whilst Stargazer has cruised. My shortlist includes: an internationally reputed 'big name,' a nationally known loft, and a Kent based artisan sailmaker.

 I contact North Sails. Head quartered in the USA, and represented around the globe, this is probably the most prestigious, and technically innovative, sail brand in the world. Perhaps unsurprisingly, they prove something of a corporate juggernaut to deal with. There is very much a North process, to which a customer must conform, in order to proceed with order placement. One of my great joys, in retirement, is the freedom from any whiff of compliance with corporate whim. Making this a travelator on which I am reluctant to embark.  I am also deterred by the discovery that North sails are made, out of sight, offshore, in (low wage?) Sri-Lanka. Although, naturally, they come with a considerable price premium. After all, North has, legitimately, to recover their investment in technical research and brand marketing. Maybe, were I in the market for a suit of 3Di, selecting North would be worth these compromises. But not for, more widely available, panel built woven sails. 

Whilst on Stargazer's 'Out of Lockdown' shakedown cruise, I visit OneSails on the Orwell. Sailmaker to Pip Hare's 2019 Vendee Globe campaign. Over coffee, loft manager Brian asks me all the right questions. He offers candid advice too: "Glue and string' (laminate and moulded) sails don't have the durability for your needs. . . . . .Look, I can build you a lovely crosscut main. But I can build you a beautiful radial main. . . . . .Only you can decide if its worth the extra. . . . . ." Sails are made on the premises. OneSails, through their sister company Evolution Rigging, could also take on the replacement of Stargazer's standing and running rigging. Although this would require her to over winter ninety (road) miles away, across the infamous Dartford Crossing, in Suffolk. 

Alan and Sarah, of Wilkinson Sails provide the artisan option. They have demonstrated a high level of support, since Stargazer moved to Chatham. Carrying out running repairs, winter sails valeting and replacing Stargazer’s sprayhood, with one of an ingeniously improved design. We discuss options, whilst Stargazer is back in Chatham, and I await my second covid jab, before departing for Scilly. Delving into the minutiae of cringle and batten box designs, the most suitable batten cross sections; as well as matters of cloth and construction . Alan, cuts sails on the varnished wooden floor of his loft, at the head of Faversham Creek. It transpires that he could pick up Stargazer's rigging work, if I were willing to have her lifted during his winter slack period. Our conversation continues by e mail, as Stargazer sails south. By the time we drop anchor in the Helford river, Wilkinson Sails has our order.

Footnote: To discover more, about the Viking Longships, click here to reach the website of the Viking Ship Museum, in Roskilde, Denmark. It describes how the museum has reconstructed, and sailed, Viking (trading and war) craft, in their mission to shed light, on the achievements and sophistication, of the seafaring civilisation which built them. 

Picture Credits:

1,5,8,12,13,15    Me

2                         North Sails

3,14                    OneSails

4                         Roskilde Viking Ship Museum

6,7                      Dimension-Polyant

9,10                    Challenge Sailcloth

11                       Bainbridge              

Espana 21

The sea gently sucks and surges at the cratered cliff foot, with under a metre of swell running.

Glassy calm by morning, it is ruffled by a light afternoon breeze.

With harbours closely spaced, on this part of the coast, Stargazer imitates the locals. Taking a leisurely afternoon sail to a new port. Making best use of the available breeze.

In Pasaia we are well looked after. By Anders, a cruising sailor first (his boat Odin out on the hard for refit) and berth master second. I had thought to make it our departure point, to head north. As soon we must.

But, with light winds, head winds at that, forecast in south Biscay over the next two weeks, passage making under sail does not look likely.

Stargazer can make either two eighty mile legs, stopping at Arcachon (purple circle) ; or sail directly for the Gironde. Both require a reaching wind (from either east or west) of ten knots plus.

The crew of the French Dehler 39 Sealance (which rafted on Stargazer over the St James festival) spoke highly of Arcachon. But cautioned that entry was only possible on the second half of the flood, with less than a metre of swell running and in daylight (the buoyage is unlit). Conditions difficult to guarantee at the end of a sixteen hour passage.

As usual, the wind will decide which route north Stargazer takes and when. Meanwhile there are ports, only an afternoon's sail away, to be explored. Whilst we keep an eye out for a passage making weather window.

Picture Credits

Dehler 39 courtesy of Hanse Yachts AG

 

 

Disaster at Sea



Windless Braye Harbour

Braye harbour on Alderney is gently coming to life. There’s no hurry. The tide won’t turn south through the Alderney Race until mid-morning. That’s what we’re all waiting for. After five days of Bank Holiday rain and gales we all independently had the same idea in the early hours of yesterday morning: Trust the forecast. Make a break out from the South Coast harbours and anchorages that we’ve been sheltering in. Head out across the Channel bound for the Brittany ports. It was a good decision. A collection of boats converged on Braye yesterday afternoon after a sun and spray drenched reach across the Channel in 25 knots of breeze. Their crews arrived tired and fulfilled. Crews now happily stretched out in the morning sun eating a leisurely breakfast and waiting for the tide.

“Mingarry” a, bigger, sister ship to Stargazer slips her mooring ahead of us and gently motors past.

“Hello Stargazer. Do you remember us?” they hail

“ Yes, Trebeurden last year wasn’t it? Where are you headed this time?” I call back

“ Yes Trebeurden. St Peter Port and then west round the Corner hopefully. How about you?” comes the reply.

As the boats separate I raise my voice to shout back “St Helier probably.” We wave au revoir – until the next time.

I slip the mooring line and take Stargazer out to the fairway under engine. The moorings are tightly packed and the wind is light and fluky. There’s too much to go wrong to sail off. We sail out of the harbour to make up for it though. Up goes the mainsail followed by our orange and blue cruising chute. Oh for a picture of us gliding out over a turquoise sea, our white hull and orange sail set off by the grey black of the stone and the cloudless powder blue sky!

Le Quenard

There’s still some westbound tide running in the Swinge outside the breakwater. We hang suspended between powder blue sky and turquoise water, sometimes gaining a little on the black and white salt cellar of Le Quenard lighthouse, sometimes losing a little. The tide turns and we’re off, sucked down into the Alderney Race. Our tide driven motion puts a breeze across the sails and they belly satisfyingly. Stargazer heels, comes alive, her helm tugs in my hand and the bow wave gurgles her delight. In no time, it seems, we’re abeam La Corbiere at the south west tip of Jersey. That’s our turning point for St. Helier our planned stop for tonight.

Do you know? I really can’t feel enthusiastic about heading into St Helier. It’s too soon to end this magical sail. I want a night in a proper rocky, rural harbour not in a city centre marina. The forecast is for a big blow tomorrow anyway. I need to be happy to stay put where ever we end up tonight. I want to keep sailing. I’ve just had five days sat around weather bound on this cruise already. A third of my precious, much looked forward to, holiday gone! Let’s take a look at the tides: I reckon that if we keep this pace up and carry the southbound tide to the bottom of the Minquiers we could be in St Cast by 23.00. Hopefully there’ll be a bit of twilight to see us in. If not I’m sure I stuck some waypoints down when I visited the harbour while it was being built last year. There’s probably a sketch chart in the new edition of Reed’s Almanac that I’ve got aboard too.

Reaching south under cruising chute

It feels like a good decision. Actually, I think I know deep down that I’ve just told myself what I wanted to hear. I know we’ll lose the tide before we’re past the Minquiers. I know the wind will ease. I know we’ll arrive after dark. I hope for enough of a glow from the lights ashore to grope our way in. Actually it’s a bad decision! I don’t admit any of this to myself though so I enjoy the continuation of a glorious sail. The sea is a deeper blue now, ruffled by the breeze, a slight swell mounding up as the water climbs gently up over the Minquiers reefs lying unseen below the surface to port. The sails are starting to slat as the swell rolls under us. The breeze is easing as the afternoon turns to evening. I slacken the sheets, halyards, outhaul to belly the sails more and help them to embrace the frail breeze. Seems like a good moment to cook supper. I eat a Stilton and Broccoli quiche in the cockpit watching the sunset and wash it down with some strong black coffee. The view intensifies the flavours. It’s a fantastic gourmet delight. Food always tastes better at sea!

The breeze comes round astern and increases. I hand the chute and pole out the jib. Stargazer rolls down the swell. The chuckle of the bow wave is back and the deck drains are gurgling merrily. That’s the sound Stargazer makes when she’s back up to six knots and enjoying herself. Dusk is inexorably falling now. Cap Frehel, with its two towers on top making it look like a sea snail crawling towards us, is a grey brown blur on the horizon. A small white sail is beating out flashing pink in the last of the sun’s rays as it pitches in the swell. It’s time to switch our navigation light on. In we run. The chart plotter says seven miles to go. No sign of those waypoints that I thought I’d put in to mark the harbour entrance though. Never mind. We’ll soon be in. Darkness falls. We’re heading into blackness. We’re on a dead run under poled genoa making seven knots. St Cast, I now discover on checking, is not in my new edition of Reeds. It’s not on my charts either; it’s too newly built for that. I carry on. That’s a bad decision! That’s a really bad decision! At least I drop the pole and furl the genoa though. Our blind rush through the dark onto an unlit lee shore slows to five knots.

In hindsight my two best options would have been either to lie off Cap Frehel until moonrise or to head up and sail the fifteen or so miles east to the Grand Jardin lighthouse marking the entrance to St Malo for which I was carrying full charts. I did neither. I’m going to blame tiredness and not a land lubberly “run to schedule” mentality for what happened next. Maybe it was a mix of the two!

As I steer Stargazer through the darkness the bit I remember most about St Cast entrance from our last visit is that the only hazard in the bay is the Bourdinot Rocks. They lie just east of the Pointe de St Cast and are lit. Soon I pick up the flash of their beacon on the port bow – just where it should be. I confirm their location relative to our position using the chart plotter. The brightness of the chart plotter blinds my night vision. I switch it to “night” mode. It’s a bit hard to read like that but I’ve got my night vision back. That’s a disastrous decision! We sail on keeping the Bourdinot Rocks well off to port to be on the safe side. I’m starting to see some red and green flashes ahead too. They are just where I’d expect the fairway approach buoys to be. We stand on in. I lose sight of the green flashing light. It must be behind a wave. It’ll reappear. It doesn’t reappear. I can still see the red one though. Keep on going. That’s the second disastrous decision! If I can’t see the light it’s behind something solid. My tired land lubber brain isn’t thinking about that though. Its thinking about a good night’s sleep securely tied up alongside. It’s just after midnight.

Point de St Cast

The wind is still driving us in from dead astern and we’re running in under the mainsail at five knots. The sea is very flat now. The sigh and swish of the swell has been swallowed up by the silence and the dark of the night. It’s been replaced with gentle a sucking and seething sound. A soothing swoosh like waves caressing pebbles on the shore. There’s a smell of seaweed coming from the blackness ahead. SOUNDS LIKE WAVES CARESSING PEBBLES ON THE SHORE! SMELLS LIKE SEAWEED!  I put the helm hard over. I control the gybe racing style, sheeting the boom over and surging it out as it whips over me as I stand crouched in the cockpit. Stargazer heels and rounds up, turning in her tracks. As she turns the beam of our stern-light picks out grey rock. Never mind trying to miss the Bourdinot Rocks. I’ve come within metres of sailing Stargazer onto the Pointe de St Cast instead. I switch the plotter back to “day” mode. The familiar look to the chart returns. It shows our course track arcing across the north-west tip of Pointe de St Cast.

Thankful to be alongside next morning

I stand back out to sea sobered. Glad to be alive. Glad to still have Stargazer afloat beneath me.

I round up and drop the mainsail. Slowly, carefully we turn under engine, pick up the red and green flashes of the fairway buoys. I keep both visible, one on each side of our bow. I’m so thankful, so very thankful.

Making Ready 6

 

With Stargazer's new mainsail on its way (Making Ready 4), it is time to resolve a bugbear with the mainsheet (the 'block and tackle' which controls the boom and mainsail). The power of a 6:1 purchase is required, in order to handle the load generated by the sail. This has triple sheaved blocks mounted to the boom and cockpit sole. Necessarily, its falls (the lengths of rope running between the pulleys) are closely spaced (picture above). To the extent that, at inopportune moments, they can touch, and lock up under load. Preventing adjustment.

This is a known drawback, to high purchase sheeting arrangements. (Their advantage is that, without the use of winches, the sail may be controlled by hand). There are two schools of thought on how to overcome it. 

The first concerns the mounting of the blocks. Some swear by locking them in position, so that no twist is possible; and, in theory at least, the falls are held separate. Others swear by fitting them on swivels, which allow the blocks to take up a position of least resistance, determined by the pull from the falls. I have tried both approaches, as well as a hybrid, with one block fixed and the other swiveling. And found little difference in performance. In the end settling on a swivelling arrangement as ‘least bad.’

The second school of thought concerns the reeving (threading) of the mainsheet through the blocks. At commissioning Stargazer's mainsheet was rove to the Harken pattern (shown above). 

Because of the lock up problems, I had begun to doubt whether Stargazer's original mainsheet reeving was correct. An internet search confirmed that it did exactly match the Harken pattern. It also turned up a different method, on the Barton website (above). Following it alleviated, but did not completely eliminate, the mainsail control issue. Instead I evolved a technique, to free the jam, by grabbing the middle (upbound) fall and pulling it forward, hard. This has always succeeded in freeing a lock up. Not elegant, but it seemed that I had exhausted all of the known cures.

Until, in conversation with Alan, the sailmaker, I learnt of an alternative approach: The EasyMatic system (shown above). This removes the problem, of locking falls, in an elegantly simple manner. Although a 6:1 system, it eschews the problematic triple block. Instead there are double blocks, in a fore and aft plane, with a single block mounted laterally. This separates the falls and eliminates the twisting forces which bring them together. Thus (I hope) eliminating friction lock up at source. It has another trick up its sleeve, too. You may notice that it is double ended (actually an endless loop, spliced together out of shot). Pull both tails (ends) simultaneously and a great deal of sheet is moved very rapidly, at a 3:1 purchase. Useful for light wind gybes. Pull just one tail however and the full 6:1 purchase is engaged.

Vectran mainsail, EasyMatic mainsheet; and a super smooth hull (Making Ready 5). Stargazer is making ready to fly, in 2022.

Picture Credits

1,2,5   Me

3         Harken

4        Barton

5        Force 4 Chandlery

The Crossing

 

Stargazer is close hauled, off Boulogne, in fifteen knots of north east breeze. The afternoon sun glints off her boiling wake. Our weather window has arrived. Our patience is amply rewarded. 

I check Stargazer's projected track, on the plotter. It predicts landfall around Romney Marsh. Fifteen nautical miles south of Dover, where we had planned to close with the British coast; and over thirty nautical miles south of Ramsgate, our intended destination for tonight. The spring tide, our ally, has yet to turn. Stargazer is pushing the last of the southbound tide.

A heat haze hangs in the air, as we pick our way across the shipping lanes. The silhouettes of the silent behemoths clearly discernible, but without detail. Even at a mile - which is as close as Stargazer likes to get. Inexorably the line of our projected track swings north. The fair tide is gathering pace beneath us.

Ahead, the low afternoon sun glints off the chalk buttress of the South Downs. The White Cliffs of Dover. Stargazer is making seven knots over the ground. Loping along, over a low swell, with the easy pace of a long distance runner.

I radio Dover port control, on channel seventy four: 

"Permission to cross east and west entrances, please." 

"Yes, we have you. Crossing the southbound lane. What is your destination?"

I am half expecting a quarantine related challenge, or news of some new clearance formality to be observed.

"Yes, we're coming up from the south, making for Ramsgate"

"You are clear to proceed. Maintain a listening watch, until you are well clear. Have a good trip"

Relief. I double click the transmit button, to acknowledge. And settle back into the tranquil reverie gifted by a sun filled, day long passage, in a fair wind.

Three tacks carry Stargazer up the Gull Stream, the channel inshore of the Goodwin Sands. The forbidding form of a Royal Navy warship looms out of the evening mists. As we pass, I see that she is at anchor. On migrant watch, no doubt. 

I make Stargazer fast under the high stone walls of Ramsgate harbour. Down below, I check forecasts, as a curry brews on the stove. The consensus is: wind swinging into the south west overnight. Building from a three to a five or six over Tuesday. Up to seven, 'perhaps gale eight' on Wednesday. Our weather window still holds. But we will need to press on tomorrow.

I sleep as the tide completes a cycle. Stargazer makes sail as the sun rises, slipping up past De Gallant moored off North Foreland. The former herring schooner, turned modern-day sail driven cargo carrier (https://blueschoonercompany.com/), is playing the same timeless game as us. Waiting for a fair tide to carry her into the London River. Lying to her anchor in the blue waters of the Channel. Sheltered by the high chalk cliffs.

Round the Foreland the wind freshens, unimpeded by those sheltering cliffs. Stargazer beats east, towards the Medway. Her rippling bow wave streaks the brown waters with white. Swirling cream into cocoa. The tide gathers pace beneath us and the wind builds. Both apparent and true. We are making good time. Almost too good. Stargazer arrives, at the shoal Copperas Channel, only an hour and a half after low water springs. The wind heads us. We short tack, nervously, making six and a half knots - with less than a metre between the glutinous Kentish mud and Stargazer's keel.

Up into the Medway Stargazer sweeps. Double reefed now. The wind funneling, gusting up and down between fifteen and twenty four knots. Allowing us to pinch up, in the squalls. To squeeze through the serpentine bends, with only a handfull of tacks. The last of the spring flood lending a helping hand. 

Thames grain barge, Edith May, (https://edithmaybargecharter.co.uk/) runs downriver, over the tide, toward us. Tan mainsail brailed up - not required, to achieve progress, in this breeze. Topsail, jibs and mizzen outstretched. Pennants flying. An East Coast welcome.

An English Summer 49

 In the calm before today's (and tomorrow's) summer blow (with the wind forecast to peak at forty knots) a six oared gig, rows past, lit by the glow of the setting sun. A craft shaped by the particular demands of these waters. Evolved from the requirement to put a pilot aboard a wind-jammer, in from the Atlantic, in all weathers, all sea states . First. To enable the pilot to make a living.

Peter Martin and Alfie Hicks, of Pettifox fame, built her in the Porthloo shed now run by Andrew Hicks.

They built the Alfie Jenkins too, housed among the dunes, in Bryher's 'Sussex' gig shed. (The plaque explains the shed’s name, if you zoom in). Out of the reach of the highest storm tide. The boat named in memory of a man, who did more than most, to put Scilly at the centre of the worldwide gig rowing revival.

There is no truly all weather port or anchorage, in the archipelago. The gig was therefore developed to keep the seas; but take to the shore, when shelter was required.

It is oft said, that all boat design is a compromise. Stargazer, with her one point eight metre fin keel and forty percent ballast ratio, can carry sail, to windward, in all bar storm conditions. But, on Scilly, her opportunities for shelter are limited, by her draft. Today we are in New Grimsby Sound, with the cliffs of Tresco between us and the wind. Deep draft craft are running in, from more exposed anchorages, for shelter. 

This morning I took Stargazer on a two mile circuit, of the sound. Seeking out enough unoccupied depth, to re-anchor. This, after making the unwelcome, but timely, discovery that, with the wind now firmly in the east, Stargazer was lying over a shoal patch. As she swung, in an arc, around her anchor, the depth reading would suddenly drop and then recover. In these waters that translates into a rock, lurking below. Today we had point two of a metre clearance. But with the tides getting bigger, as we head toward Monday's springs (low lows and high highs), insufficient to float us from tomorrow onward, at the forecast height of the blow. It was time to move.

In Scilly, options for shelter multiply if a boat is able to take the ground, or to float in very shallow water. Green Bay, on Bryher, for example, dries almost completely at low water. Today it is filled with the whole gamut of shoal draft designs, with more still arriving.

Catamarans will float in knee high waters, or happily dry out, on the beach. Most, however, will not sail effectively to windward, having only stub keels with which to resist leeway (being blown sideways) and high cabin tops, which worsen matters. A tradeoff suffered by this homely Hirondelle, which we last met, high and dry, on her mud berth in Porth Navas creek, on the Helford river.

Some cats do sail effectively to windward. This one has dagger boards, as well as flush decks, to counter leeway. Gaining upwind ability, at the expense of accommodation space below.

But she speeds along, even in light airs. In a breeze, she would fly. . . .and so, I suspect, would the spray. One for the dedicated enthusiast, perhaps.

Monohulls too, can take to the beach, if they have lifting keels like this Southerly. She has the same ballast ratio as Stargazer: forty percent. But less than ten percent, of that, is carried in the keel. The majority is higher up, forming a 'grounding plate,' in the bottom of the bilge. The leverage of that ballast is reduced, compared to Stargazer's, whose keel bulb is almost two metres beneath the surface of the water. The Southerly's upwind sail carrying capacity is, therefore, less than that of a fin keeler. But she will float in point seven of a metre of water and happily dry out upright. An advantage, on a day like today, where available anchoring space is limited and shallow.

Bilge keelers lie somewhere between lift keelers and fins, in terms of draft, righting moment and windward ability. Although their extra underwater appendage adds drag, it also enables them to stand,, on their own two feet, ashore. For every pro a con, in boat design.

The permutations are as varied as the waters, on which boats sail; and the priorities of the folk, who sail aboard them.