a tidal harbour; and—gravest objection of all—it will sometimes happen that, though bad weather is coming on, one is compelled to keep to the open sea with her and fight it out with the elements, with, nevertheless, a sheltered little harbour hard by yet inaccessible to her, into which a boat of lighter draught could have crept with ease.
The new yacht measurement rules have happily brought us back to wholesome beam. Some years ago even yachts not intended for racing were of the deep-draught, narrow-gutted description. Beam was supposed to be incompatible with speed; and yet my Falcon yawl, which, though only forty-two feet in length, had a beam of thirteen feet, frequently made her nine knots an hour, and on one occasion beat, I imagine, the record for vessels of her size on an ocean voyage, having sailed two thousand sea miles (from Pernambuco to Georgetown, Demerara) in ten days, running under all plain sail and spinnaker; it must be remembered, too, that she was practically jury-rigged, all her spars and sails having been cut down before I left England.
I have already said that the cruising vessel must be more lightly ballasted than the racer or the craft that is intended for sailing in some sheltered bay or river. She must not, of course, be lightened until she becomes cranky, but she should have as little ballast as possible. When fitting out my three-tonner for her Baltic cruise I took half her ballast out of her; and so, too, before sailing to the South
