Borne o'er a latent reef the hull impends,
And thundering on a marble crag descends;
Her ponderous bulk the dire concussion feels,
And o'er upheaving surges wounded reels—
Again she plunges! hark! a second shock
Bilges the splitting vessel on the rock.
—Falconer

ON STRANDING

This is a subject upon which I can pose as a master. If any man has been ashore more times than I have, I should like to meet him and spend an evening comparing notes. One of my favorite amusements is to sail into places where a man of sense has no business to go; consequently my boat is continually being hung up on rocks, shoals and bars. While this is not particularly good for the boat, it has done me no harm, as I have gathered a lot of knowledge and experience which, you willing, I will spread before you.

Yachts, unlike merchant vessels, are seldom damaged by taking ground. This is because, in proportion to their weight, they are extremely strong fabrics. A merchant vessel when loaded has little reserve buoyancy, and when she strikes, she hits hard; but a yacht is almost as buoyant as an empty barrel, and unless she hits with a perpendicular portion, does so very lightly.

Frequently when a yacht hits a rock it seems to those on board as if the end of things had come; but when an examination is made it will be found that little harm has been done.

I once struck a rock with a small sloop. It was blowing a strong breeze and considerable sea running. When she struck, the blow was terrific; it threw me over the wheel to land on my head in the fore end of the cockpit, and knocked the rest off their pins. The centerboard was driven clear up out of the case against the cabin roof, the sloop making a jump over the stone and into deep water on the other side.

We all thought the boat must be badly damaged, but as she made no water, we turned round and worked her home. When she was hauled out, the only sign of the blow was a dent in the lead keel just deep and wide enough to hold a finger.

Another time I was in a bulb-fin boat, racing, when she struck a rock. She was close-hauled and going like a scared cat. It felt like banging up against a stone wall, the shock sending us all flying forward. The damage done amounted to a bruised bulb and a slightly bent fin; the hull was, so far as we could ascertain by superficial inspection, unhurt.

Metal-shod keels are undoubtedly a great protection, and a yacht that strikes fairly on her iron or lead will seldom be damaged to such an extent as to endanger her safety. I have known boats to be sunk by striking rocks, but they hit either the side of the bow or the bilge and stove in the plank. For this reason, if you find yourself going on a rock, always take it stem-to. By this means I jumped a rock in Wood's Hole that was six inches out of water, and landed all right on the other side.

The most dangerous thing to do, yet the thing that is most natural to do, is to put the helm up or down with the hopes of escaping; consequently your craft is carried on, and strikes broadside. This not only is liable to bilge her, but makes it far more difficult to get her off. It is especially dangerous if you go on with a weather wind or tide.

Always remember that wounds in a hull are least dangerous at the ends, and most dangerous in the middle body. If a boat is pierced in her head or tail you may be able to trim the leak out, or save her from sinking by stranding and jacking the leaky end up, but if she is pierced amidships you cannot get at the hole unless you haul completely out. I remember seeing a sandbagger that had torn the plank away from her stem saved from sinking by trimming, the crew raising her head by piling all the bags aft.

Luckily for the navigator, the sea by constant washing, and nature by a covering of seaweed and slime, prepares the majority of rocks for his reception, so that if he strikes the object fairly with sufficient way on, his craft will slide over. But sometimes he runs against a ragged reef, and then there is trouble. The reefs and lone rocks along our coast are generally worn smooth, and are not dangerous customers like the coral formations of warmer climes. One of the worst things to run on is a reef of small boulders, as you are liable to get one on either side just under the bilge. These places are the remains of a point or island, and are good places to fight shy of. The worst boats to take ground are flat-bottomed craft like sharpies; when they go on they generally make a perfect job of it. They are bad things to strand on a sand-bar or flat, the bottom of the boat sucking like a leech to a turtle's hindquarter. Unless you can get the tide to lift one of this kind off, it is either jettison the ballast or dig out. A man who knocks about a sandy land in a sharpie should always carry a shovel with him.

The first rule of action upon stranding is to at once lower all sail. There is but one exception to this; I will state it later. You cannot drive a vessel off ground with her sails (you may back her off); at least I never could. The reason of this is that a boat under sail pressure drives down, and draws more water the harder you force her. Again, if you drive her off, or over bottom, with the sails, you are likely to damage the hull or break the rudder.

After taking off sail run out a kedge against the wind or current, unless both are ahead; then take it out the way you came in. Give it all the line you can; the straighter the pull the less likely that your anchor will come home. As soon as it is down, heave taut, and keep the vessel's stern to the sea, current or wind, whichever is most powerful. This done, if on a rock, go below and see if she is making water. While you are doing this let the other hands sound round the craft to find how she lies.

If she is not leaking, get all your beef on the hawser and heave away. Here is where a handy-billy or watch-tackle comes in. Sometimes you can use the windlass, but this is not as good as a tackle, because the hands have to stand forward to work it, and you want all the weight aft. If she refuses to budge under the pull, go below, and if you have inside weight shift it aft. If she still refuses to start, get out everything weighty, and either lighter it or heave it over-side.

Sometimes you can start a boat off a rock by broadening off the main-boom, and sending a man out on it to roll her. Before you do this be sure and set up the topping lift, and weather preventer if one is fitted. The principal thing is to keep a constant and firm strain on the hawser.

If there is any roll on, get the hawser set up fiddle-string taut with the tackle, then place all hands so as to surge it sideways every time she lifts on the sea. If the boat is one with a deep false keel you can gain a few inches off the draught by careening her. This is done by taking an anchor off at right angles to her lay and setting up the hawser by any of the mast-head tackles, either jib or peak halyards. Never do this if there is any sea on, as it is liable to strain the hull or break the false keel. I don't believe it is much good, and do not recommend its practice except as a last call.

Another plan which I found to work well when a boat is stranded on a shelving bank of either mud or sand is to overhaul the throat halyards, and bend the gaff-block to a bight in the hawser, letting a tail of the hawser drop down from the block. Then set up hard on the halyard, using the windlass or watch-tackle. This done, let a man hang on the tail of the hawser, throwing his weight up and down so as to surge it, the rest taking in the slack. This makes the mast a lever to lift her, and if there is water under the stern she will surely start.

In a boat with a deep sternpost and sloping keel you can sometimes do better by swinging it on its heel, and heaving off bow first, getting all your spare live weight out on the bowsprit to bring her by the head; but it depends on where she is hardest fast, and how much weight you have to trim with. If she is fast aft of midships this plan will work, but if forward of that point it will not.

The most frequent strandings are when trying to enter the mouths of creeks or rivers; places beset with bars and flats. If the wind and tide are ahead you can easily get off, but if either is astern you are liable to be in a fix. If you strike carrying the tide and wind with you, down all sail instantly, lash the helm amidships, and get out the anchor and long warp.

The minute a vessel strikes under these conditions she will swing broadside-to, and drive up higher, at the same time the tide will pile the sand or silt round her. If you can hold her stern to the tide, the current will cut the sand away, and the swell will help you to pull her off.

Now comes the only exception to the rule of taking in sail: If you are going into an inlet with a fair wind and head-tide, and take ground on a soft bar, keep your sails full and hold the boat's nose to the current. If you can keep her steady, which you can best do by getting all your spare life weight forward, the current will cut a passage for you. The most dangerous stranding is with a strong in-running tide and a stern swell. A boat under these conditions is liable to be hove over on her side and flooded. A small steamship was lost last winter in the Bristol Channel by an accident of this kind; she struck on a shoal, swung beam to the tide, and rolled completely over.

Several power boats have been wrecked in the same manner, as from the narrowness of their beam they are very liable to roll over when caught broadside-to by a current. Another thing that often damages launches is leaving them where, when the tide falls, they are broadside on a shelving bank. The water leaves them and they fall over; the tide returns, and not having sufficient buoyancy to lift before it rises to their coamings they are flooded and sunk.

Years ago, when I was a lad, a very fast and narrow steam launch was left by her crew on a shelving bank close to where we were anchored. When the tide dropped she fell over, and as her crew did not return we tried to save her, but the bottom was too soft to allow working on, and she filled at the flood. On the next ebb we bailed her out, and with a little engineering and a lot of labor got her righted up.

We took two big joists and lashed them across the boat, but so poorly fitted was she with cleats and other things to make fast to that we had to bore holes in the deck to pass the lashing and secure them to the frame. The ends of the joists stuck out about fifteen feet on the high side. Under these ends we laid another timber, parallel to the boat's length, in the mud and ballasted it with stones and iron. To this timber we lashed two tackles, one from each joist. Then as the tide made we hove slowly down on them, and she righted up.

If the bottom had been hard we could have parbuckled her, but it was impossible to do it in the deep, soft mud. This boat had a high and heavy boiler, which made the work harder, as it levered her down.

If you can float another boat alongside of a launch in this fix you can lift her by parbuckling, or you can do it from a dock if the wall is high and near enough. To do this, take a stout line, made fast, from the near side over the deck and right under the keel; then lay your floating boat alongside as close as possible, and bend this line to the latter's throat halyards. Heave taut on it and belay.

If possible get two lines, one forward and one aft, having separate tackles. As the tide makes keep heaving in the slack, letting your floating boat draw in sideways to the launch. This strain will aid the water in lifting, as the launch will have to rise with the floating boat. If the launch is very heavy or of scant beam, like the steam craft I mentioned, you had better use joists or spars to help the leverage.

I once took a launch off a rock by this same plan, when hours of heaving on hawsers had failed to move her. Another plan is to lift a boat by lashing empty barrels to the side by passing slings under the keel. If the boat is neaped so that sufficient tide cannot be got to lift her, you can fill and sink the barrels, bunghole up; then shorten up the slings and pump the barrels out with a hand-pump. This barrel trick is only performed when a boat is bilged and full of water.

Let me say here that all small power boats that cruise in strange waters where the bottom is hard should carry either a screw or hydraulic jack, and a good stout piece of square timber. If you get aground in places where there is little or no rise of the tide you have something to start in the wrecking business with. A jack and timber are also useful if anything happens to the wheel and you want to get the stern raised.

To show the danger of forcing a boat off a rock let me cite one instance: A 50-foot sloop of the old flat-floored centerboard model struck on a stone when going free with a moderate wind. The sailing master kept his sails up, and with this pressure and a warp dragged her over and off the rock bow first. She had no sooner gone clear than she filled and sank.

When floated and docked it was found that she had a hole in her bilge big enough for a dog to crawl through. The first blow had started a butt; this caught, and in dragging over the plank was bent back and ripped away from the frames. Had he taken in sail, and pulled her off stern first, she would have floated long enough to have got into harbor.

Having considered accidental stranding, let us now consider voluntary stranding—that is, the running of a vessel ashore to save the vessel or the life of her crew. Let us suppose that you are caught on a lee shore, and for some reason cannot claw off. You are bound to go ashore anyhow, and in order to give the boat and people a chance decide to run in and strand her.

If the shore under your lee is rock I can do nothing for you. Your only chance is to pick out an opening or cleft and drive her in, and the minute she strikes jump for hard land. Such places are usually to be found on the rocky shores of our coast, but if the land is steep-to and sheer-faced, there is little hope for the boat or her people.

There are two kinds of sandy shores on which you may have to strand your vessel—the gradual slope and the steep slope. The former is by far the more dangerous, as the broken water extends some distance from the beach.

In running in breaking water—in fact, in running in all heavy seas—the rule for safety is this: Let the wave-crest pass you, not carry you. If you can hold the boat back, so that the wave-crest will split at her stern and rush by on each side, the boat will travel in safety. This is why it is dangerous in heavy water to carry sail when running. Many men do it for fear of pooping, but there is far less danger of pooping than there is tripping or being brought by-the-lee. Fore-and-aft canvas, particularly sails laced to booms, are bad things to run under; anything in the shape of a square sail is much better. Hundreds of vessels have been lost by running under a press of sail—probably ten times as many as have been destroyed by pooping.

Now if you are obliged to strand on a flat beach, keep your vessel's stern to the swell and moving as slowly as possible. The best thing to do is to tow a hawser astern, or a small sail. This will check her way, and also prevent the sea swinging her stern round. Watch her closely as the sea strikes under the stern, and check the desire to broach with the helm. She can also be aided by having hands on a small jib or staysail sheet, and backing this sail either on one side or the other, as the threatened sheer requires. Get your weights out of the bow and keep her trimmed a bit by the stern. The idea is to have her strike bottom on her whole keel-length, and not on the forefoot.

Here is where the luck comes in. If she strikes with her heel first and her head raised on a sea, you will probably land well up on the beach, but if she strikes with her forefoot first and her stern up in the air you will land—well, only good fortune can save you.

I have seen fishing boats beached in this way in heavy surf, the crews dropping an anchor and checking the craft until the right moment, and then slacking away smartly. In this way they rode the boat in on the back of successive seas. With sharp-stern craft this can be done with safety, but I would not care to try it with a square stern or long after-overhang craft.

I would advise the young seaman to take a small skiff or dingey to a beach where there is a small sea breaking and practice making-off and landing through the surf. He had better dress in a bathing suit, and try the game when the water is warm. In a day or two of this work you will learn more than I could teach you in seventy volumes.

If the beach is steep-to, the sea breaking but a few rods from the strand, you can stand in under good way, keeping her end-on until close to. The instant you feel that she is going to strike put your helm over and bring her almost broadside to the sea. The wave rising under her weather bilge will throw her sideways on the beach, and each succeeding sea will drive her higher up.

In running at any time in heavy water use oil, letting it drip from either bow. With a good thick slick in your wake you will be less likely to be washed by the crests.

But better than all these directions is the advice to keep off rocks, shoals and shores. Don't go into places unknown to you unless you have a good chart or your lead going; especially keep away from dangerous places when the wind is brisk, the sea heavy or the tide strong. An ounce of precaution in this matter is worth tons of cure.

Nine out of ten strandings or strikings are the result of carelessness or recklessness. The only thing a man is justified in hitting is a wreck or a lone rock; these things the lead will not announce, and they are frequently uncharted. Old familiar "didn't know it was there," should more properly be "didn't know I was there." Rocks don't move, but you would think they did to hear many yachters explaining how it happened. I have hit a good many rocks in my day, but don't believe I could prove an alibi except in one case, when the boat ran on a stone that nobody had ever heard of before. We examined the stranger and found it was a rock sure enough, but where it came from or how it got there no man knew, but all hands stood ready to swear that they had sailed over the exact spot many times and never touched anything.

I don't doubt but what there are thousands of uncharted rocks over which and alongside of which vessels constantly pass but do not happen to strike. Like the celebrated Daedalus Rock, they may lurk for years in the course of commerce, until the unfortunate boat comes sailing along that is destined to win immortality by striking and unmasking the danger. But it is not worth while to worry over these vigias while there are plenty of well-known dangers to keep the navigator busy. So proceed fearlessly but cautiously, trusting in your lead and chart, and hug and play with weather shores as much as you please, but give the lee ones a wide berth.

Before entering an inlet, creek or river mouth, if you are not familiar with it, lay-off or anchor outside. Send in the dingey with a lead or pole, and sound for the deepest place on the bar; when this is found, let the dingey lie there or on a line inside of it to guide you in. You may lose a few minutes by so doing, but by the delay may save yourself hours of hard labor and anxiety.

Never try to run inlets when a heavy swell is on; the open sea is far more merciful than a bar at such times. It is especially dangerous to attempt such places in small power boats.

In a second book now in preparation I shall talk to you upon sails, ballast, sea-anchors, cruising, rough water, weather and other subjects of interest to the young mariner. I will be pleased to have my readers suggest themes the exposition of which would interest them, and if I am competent to discuss the subject I will be only too glad to do so.