CHAPTER XXII.

SOMETHING ABOUT STEERING A SAIL-BOAT.

The Sylph lowered her starboard-quarter boat; and two men, in addition to the crew, took their places in it. The two vessels were too far off to permit the party on board of the Goldwing to see who the men were, for the sloop was now quite near the New-York shore. As soon as the boat returned to the steamer, she came about, and stood up the lake again. She kept quite near the La Motte, and therefore sailed at only half speed.

"We will go up to Beechwater, and find out what has happened," said Thad. "But we will attend to the lesson all the same. We are going to come about. Which way do I put the helm, Archie?"

"Put it either way, and she will come about," replied the student, who had earned the title of "Greenhorn," though no one was uncivil enough to apply it to him.

"If you were at the wheel, would you take the responsibility of putting the helm to port?"

"I shouldn't know any better than to do so."

"If you did, you might drown the crowd, in this breeze. But we will leave that subject to the proper time to consider it. Which way do I put the helm, Con?"

"Hard down, hard a-starboard, hard a-lee," replied Con.

"Right; and you have learned your lesson in full."

"Must a fellow say all that?" asked Archie.

"Not at all; though the expressions all mean the same thing, and Con used them all to prove that he knew what they mean. When we are going about, or going to tack, the proper way is to put the helm down, moving it slowly at first, and then hard down, which is down as far as you can get it. Ready about! That is the order to get ready to tack. Here we are!"

The skipper put the helm down, and in a moment the reefed mainsail began to shake and bang: then it went over on the other side, and filled there.

"What tack are we on now, Archie?" asked Thad.

"On the port-tack; but you did not explain the port-tack," replied the innocent youth.

"Didn't I, indeed! Then, how in the world do you happen to know that we are on the port-tack? for you are as correct as though you had been to sea all your life."

"I knew it must be the other one."

"You must have studied logic."

"With the port-tacks aboard," added Con. "Or would be, if this were a ship."

"Now we will attend to this wheel," continued the skipper. "We have been talking about a tiller. You can see that there is a cast-iron frame in the shape of a quadrant."

"I never saw a quadrant," said Archie.

"Then, you did not look when the principal showed us one,--or perhaps you were not present. But you have seen a mince-pie."

"And eaten one."

"Not a whole one at a time. If you did, you saw a winged alligator before morning. But what part of a mince-pie is about a pattern for you?"

"Say a quarter."

"That would be in the shape of a quadrant. This quadrant has a round hole cast in the right angle, which is fitted upon the rudder-head, as you can see for yourselves. On the round side of the quadrant are cogs, which fit into the cogs of the smaller wheel, under the large one, which is provided with handles, or spokes. It isn't easy to talk it, but you can see it. I am seated on the weather-side of the wheel."

"Must the helmsman always be on the weather-side?" asked Ash.

"There is no law about it; but for some reasons, it is the better side for him. He can see ahead better; and when the boat is on the wind, and she heels over, he has the higher side. Being on the weather-side of the helm, if I pull the spokes on the big wheel towards me, it turns the small wheel, which is part of the big one, in the same direction. By the action of the cogs, the round side of the quadrant is moved in the opposite direction. The quadrant is really the tiller. Then, drawing the spokes towards me is putting the helm down, which throws the boat up into the wind."

"It will not be so if you stand on the other side of the wheel," said Ben Sinker.

"Certainly not. I am standing on the starboard-side now: if I bring the spokes towards the starboard-side, it carries the quadrant, or tiller, over to the opposite side, and the head of the boat moves to starboard. You put the tiller to port to carry the head to starboard: with this wheel, the action is reversed. To sum it up short, put the spokes to starboard, and the head goes the same way. Now, Ash, you may try your hand at it, and see if it works as I say it does."

"Of course it does, for you know all about it," replied Ash.

"But a fellow never believes a thing of this sort till he has proved it," added the skipper. "Pull the handles of the wheel towards you, and it throws the head of the boat up into the wind. Remember this--'only this, and nothing more.' But there is one thing that a beginner has to learn; and that is, to steer small."

"I know about that," replied Ash.

"The others don't. A new hand is always apt to move the tiller too much. To move the tiller, or wheel, very little at a time, is to steer small. Move it gradually, and note the effect upon the boat's head."

Ash Burton took his place at the wheel; and, as he had had some experience in steering a boat with a tiller, he did very well. In fact, he was competent to handle a boat, though he had picked up his knowledge himself. But he did not boast of his skill, and wished to learn more.

"I always take an object on the shore, and steer for it, when the boat is going free," said he.

"I do, whether she is going free, or not," added Thad. "If I am close hauled, I watch both the sail and the object. When a fellow is steering, he ought to give the closest attention to the business he has in hand; and it isn't a bad rule to follow, whatever he is doing. If the helmsman doesn't mind what he is about, he keeps the boat yawing and staggering, like a man who has taken too much whiskey. I don't like to see a boat going that way. If she is kept steady, she not only makes her course better, but she gets along faster."

"I am running for the point," said Ash.

"Then, you may make too much northing. You should always take an object to windward of the point you want to reach, for the boat will always get in more or less leeway; though it don't make much difference when you have a free wind. But you can steer well enough, Ash. Let Ben Sinker try his hand at the wheel."

"I don't believe I can do it," replied Ben modestly. "I never tried to steer a sail-boat."

"Then, you are just the fellow we want. Take an object on the shore near the south side of the mouth of the river," continued the skipper.

"There is a cow," added Ben.

"Better take a train of cars on the railroad: it moves faster, and you would fetch up somewhere, though it might be on the bottom of the lake. Not an object that moves, or can move, my lad. Take that highest tree," replied Thad, as he pointed to it.

Ben took his place at the wheel, and fixed his gaze on the tree, which Ash had used for his mark. In a moment the boat was off the course; and the new hand, anxious to set her right, pulled the wheel about half way round. The skipper said nothing, for he wanted his pupils to learn by experience. The sail began to shake, as the Goldwing came up into the wind. Ben immediately put the wheel the other way: the sloop came back to her course, and then began to fall off.

"Steer small, Ben: that's what's the matter. You have her almost before the wind; and it won't do to let her go any farther round, for the sail will bang over to the other side," interposed the skipper, giving the wheel a turn. "You will send us all to the bottom at that rate."

"I told you I didn't believe I could do it," replied Ben, not a little mortified at his ill success.

"But I know you can do it: only you have made the same mistake as all new hands," added Thad, as he brought the boat to her course. "Now you are all right again. It won't do to fool with a boat when the wind is as fresh as it is now. Just move the wheel only an inch or two at a time, till you learn how much it requires."

"I see, that, if you turn the wheel only an inch, it has an effect on the head of the boat," said Ben, after he had got the hang of the wheel. "I thought you had to move it at least a foot to produce any effect at all."

"If the wind were light, it would be different," added Thad. "The whole thing is balanced, and the movement of the rudder keeps the boat in a sort of equilibrium."

"That's a big word," said Archie.

"But you all know what it means, though you may not see how it applies to a boat under sail. Suppose I haul in the main-sheet, so that the wind will blow square against it," continued the skipper, suiting the action to the word, till the boat heeled over enough to startle the timid ones.

"That takes the pressure off the wheel," said Ben.

"Because it checks her headway; and it would upset the boat, for the sail holds the wind instead of getting rid of it."

"I don't see how the sail can get rid of the wind, for it is all here," replied Archie.

Thad took a large piece of newspaper from his pocket, lifted it as high as he could reach, and then let it go.

"Which way did it go?" he asked.

"North-east," answered Syl.

"Which way is this sloop going?"

"South-east."

"What is the reason it did not go the way this boat is going?"

"Because the wind don't blow this way," replied Archie.

"Then, what makes the boat go this way, my lad?"

"Because Ben steers it this way."

"Correct; but suppose I should rig a sail in the Bouquet, and steer her with all my might, could I make her go as the Goldwing is going?"

"Of course not: she has no keel, or next to none."

"Correct again. The wind carries the paper in the direction towards which it is blowing. If the breeze struck square against the sail, it would blow the boat over to-day. We trim the sail at an angle, at a slant, with the way the wind blows. The sloop is not forced ahead, as the paper was, by the direct action of the wind."

Thad placed the bailing-bucket on the floor of the standing-room, and then with the boat-hook, passed along the side of it, caused the pail to be moved athwart-ships, though the boat-hook was carried fore and aft.

"The bucket is moved by the friction of the boat-hook, as the sail is by the friction of the wind against the canvas," said Thad. "If it were not for the keel, the boat would slide off sideways: it would be all leeway, and no headway. With the helm, we keep the several forces balanced."

The sloop went into the river; but another hand was sent to the wheel when Ben Sinker had obtained some practical idea of steering, and the lesson was continued.