Precaution is the mother of safety.

ON REEFING

This is a short chapter on a short subject, but one that is of interest to the green hand. Men often ask when it is time to reef? It is always time to reef when you think it is. The moment you would feel easier and your boat handle better by having less sail spread, is the time to shorten down. Never mind what anybody else is doing or what anybody else tells you. It is your boat, not some other boat that is worrying, and yourself, and not some other person, who is in charge. Never carry sail for the sake of carrying it; the ignorant may praise your recklessness and pluck, but the experienced man will call you either a lubber or a fool.

Never let the action of another guide you in this particular, unless the action agrees with your own judgment. It is very common for young sailors to reef or not reef as they see some other man, and consequently to carry sail much to the risk of their vessel and lives. You must remember that these remarks of mine have nothing to do with racing. In racing, a man cannot reef when he wants to, but when he can; therefore, he frequently carries sail when he would give a good slice of his daily income to have it off, and often keeps in his reefs when he would like to shake them out, but does not for the same reason. Then, again, in racing, boats are always in company, and if an accident happens someone is close aboard to give assistance; but in cruising this is not so, and many a life has been lost for want of a reef in time.

When I was young and fresh I had an idea that if anyone could carry sail on a boat I could do the same. One day I had a lesson that made me think, and partially cured me of the habit. I went with a clever old boatman across the Sound to bring home a new cat. We each took a crew, and, to return, he sailed the new boat, and I the one we had come over in. Halfway across it came on to blow very hard, and it was all I could do to keep my boat on her feet. My crew wanted me to stop and reef, but as the new boat kept on, I insisted upon following her, being afraid that the old man would laugh at me. In plain talk, I was afraid of being thought a coward, and for this I jeopardized my own and the lives of the other boys. When at last, after a struggle and half full of water, we reached port, the old man met me with a torrent of invectives, calling me a fool and several other hard names for not reefing.

"But you didn't reef," I protested. "Reef!" he exclaimed. "No, for I couldn't; but I'd given fourteen dollars if I could have got that sail down. Do you think I was carrying whole sail for fun?" It seems the halliards, being new, had jammed, and they could not get the sail down, so had to lug it. This taught me a lesson, one that I have never forgotten; and oftentimes when I see a man struggling along under too much sail, I wonder if he, like the old boatman, wouldn't give fourteen dollars if he could get that sail down.

The first thing when you get a crew is to break them in to a method of reefing. Give each man a place and teach him to keep it; this is the secret of rapid and efficient work. Let us suppose that you are in command of a small sloop, with a total crew of four. It comes on to blow, and you decide to reef. There is a bit of lee under the shore, and you go in for it. Now you have decided to reef without anchoring, and when close enough luff up and prepare to lower the mainsail. Your mate, your best hand, and the man in his watch go to the halliards, you stay at the helm and your watch-mate takes the sheet.

Now, if you lower the mainsail all the way down, you will have to take in your headsail and drift; this will soon take you out of your kindly lee, but if you can keep some after-sail up, with the jib on an easy sheet, you can jolly her up to windward a bit and keep close inshore. Having decided on this you order the sail lowered down to the reef. The getting down of the sail quickly depends on your cleverness at the helm; you must spill just at the right moment. As the sail comes down your two men handle and lay the sail along the boom, the mate tending the halliards. When the tack cringle is low enough he belays the halliards and ties down the tack. By this time you have the pendant ready, and when the mate shouts "All fast," you haul out, one man helping you and the others shaking and lighting out the canvas. When this is handed out and made fast, the hands begin to tie the points, beginning in the middle and working forward and aft.

Your business is to look after the dog-ear, to tie in the outboard points, and pass a lashing round the clew, wrapping it round the boom. The points are passed between the foot of the sail and the lacing, not between the lacing and the boom, a common error with green hands. Tie your points with a square bow knot; don't tie them too tight; try and put the same strain on all. Don't haul out your clew too hard, especially if it is raining or the water is flying. The pendant will shrink one way, the sail the other, and in consequence the canvas be pulled out of life. As soon as all the points are tied, look them over carefully to see that they belong to the proper reef, and are not tied cross-faced, and, if correct, hoist away.

Lazy-jacks on a boom are of great assistance in taking a sail in, but they are in the way when reefing. Quarter-lifts as substitutes are better for small craft. The reef points should be made of different kinds of stuff, or else be dyed different colors, so as to be easily distinguishable. I prefer different kinds of stuff, as they can be told by the feel at night. The first reef being cotton line, the second manila, and the third cotton.

If you are going to tie in more than one reef, it is best to tie in the first, then the next over it, and so on. This also makes a much neater looking job. Teach your men to roll the sail up tightly before tying in; nothing looks so bad as a reef made up of a series of bags.

The Proper Way to Tie Reef-Points