On sailing a Folksong: an engine anode

I’m not an engine man, preferring to sail and enjoy the vagaries of wind and sea to the precision of  metal parts and fuel consumption.

On the other hand, I know the relief of the engine starting first time and the expectation of being back on the mooring in time for tea.

I look on it as a useful friend which will get me out of trouble if I really need it.

I keep it clean,  can change the oil and oil filter, and know more or less what this part or that part does – but have no overall grasp of it. In fact, I consider it a bit of a challenge.

So, realising that it was time for a proper service, I got the engineer from the Yanmar dealer in and watched him work. (It’s a Yanmar GM10)

A pleasure to see a job done well.

As you would expect – he worked methodically, step-by-step through the process.

And I recognised most of what he was doing, even if some of the bits were not quite where I thought they were.

But when he unbolted the alternator and moved it out the way, I knew I had done the right thing.

What was behind there? Well, the anode of course.

OK . . . . . so I didn’t know there was an anode in the engine. Makes perfect sense. Of course there is. Different metals sitting together in a wet environment.

This is what it looked like.

All you need to know is that a new one is over twice the size of this and a rather elegant dome shape.

I guess it hadn’t been changed for a long time – certainly in the time I have owned the boat.

Anyway, I’ve learned the lesson – and won’t forget it.

On sailing a Folksong – Self-steering gear

A comment this evening:

“I have just bought a Folksong and plan to do some extended single-handed voyages in her. I was wondering if you know of any folksong’s that have had self-steering gear installed on them, and if so which system / model has been used with success.”

Lo Shu

Sho Fu is the only Folksong I know of to carry self-steering gear – and this hazy image is the only one I have and I know nothing else about her.

Looking at her again, I notice the spray hood is similar to a design I have in mind. I might use this one.

I use a Raymarine ST1000+ for shorter trips, but would not want to undertake  a longer voyage with this system alone.

When I bought Blue Mistress I spent some time researching self-steering gear with the intention of fitting it fairly quickly. As happens, priorities changed and deadlines came and went and I still haven’t done it.

However, I did think that a system like the Windpilot Pacific Light might work.  (To see one fitted to the stern of a Folkboat, click here and here).

Nick Jaffe made it to Australia in his Contessa 26, Constellation, with this set up.

Here is Blue Mistress crying out for self-steering gear – and an owner with the means to go a lot further than he has so far.

If you have strong thoughts on this, let me know.


From Steeple Point – waves (cont.)

The previous afternoon the weather was similar. . .

a light swell is coming off the Atlantic.

Waves are in motion, just visible, moving towards us across the surface of the water – at speed.

The actual water they pass through is barely changing position, describing small, slow, circular, vertical orbits.

Finally, almost at the last moment, a small section of a wave is cut off  by the rocks-  guided into a gully.

Forced into the tight space, it loses speed as it drags against the sides. But it retains its energy.

Thus gaining height, it trips over itself, breaking on some underwater obstruction.

And now it is the water itself  – (at a ton per cubic metre), that is surfing down the face of the wave, accelerating towards us.

In speeding up, it quickly reaches its end, dashing itself with abandon on the Breakwater – while, a few seconds later, the rest of the wave, still in the freedom of comparatively open water only a few feet away, rolls sedately up the stones.

And here, it is lifted by the swell above the surrounding sea, only to sluice downhill across the rocks, seeking balance with the main body of water.

On sailing a Folksong – just checking

This post is for fellow Folksong owners – knowing you would understand.

On the way to St Ives, we detoured to check on the boat.

Around 1230, it was raining hard – big drops with more to come.

All seemed secure, so we drove on – south west, meeting the heavy weather on the road, half of me wondering how things were on the mooring now.

For love of a boat – St Ives ‘Jumbo’

Following my ‘love of a boat’ post on 25th February, I want to speak up again for a project that I have only recently become aware of but one that so obviously meets the spirit of this series that I cannot believe it has taken me so long to find out about it.

We have spent this weekend in St Ives.

I had hoped to see the Jumbo, a replica of the smallest class of St Ives fishing lugger – (details of the project can be found here).

No chance – but I made up with it in viewing the many old photographs of the original boats available around the town.

Apart for appreciating the boat as a boat, my interest was sparked by a press release dated November 2007.

An extract from it reads:

“Our aim is to establish a racing class of these boats at St.Ives in order to regenerate a waterfront community in decline. How much more effective it would be if, in addition, these boats could be eventually used for the purpose for which they were designed whilst providing a seasonal income for a couple of individuals!

Clearly, there may come a time when, in addition to any green, carbon neutral credentials, a sail-operated fishery could become commercially viable or at least a natural way of conserving resources (as demonstrated by the Falmouth oyster fishery – much celebrated as the last in the world to be worked under sail).

In the meantime the skills required need to be developed. There’s a growing recognition that this approach would at least address some serious issues; the sustainability of fish stocks, the rising cost of fuel, the dependence on imported goods and the lack of employment opportunities in rural areas to name a few.

And if successful, the model could be readily repeated elsewhere.

Only a few months ago such a proposal would have been dismissed as romantic fantasy. So far however, my inquiries have been met with a degree of excitement.”

This is a brave start and I am sure that more than a few eyebrows have been raised.

However the project has powerful backing and a great deal of goodwill, to which I am happy to add my own small cupful.

I invite you to explore their well-managed site and appreciate the enterprise.

For the origins and full set of images in this series, here

From Steeple Point – waves

Last Saturday, browsing through my favourite second-hand bookshop – Books by the Sea in Bude, I found a book on seamanship by John Russell – The Shell Book of Seamanship, published in 1974.

I already have another book of his – Yachtmaster Offshore, published in 1977 for the RYA  Seamanship Foundation and bought around that time.

Note the publishing dates – before a lot of things that have happened since.

I like his attitude.

From the blurb inside the dust cover: ” . . . ‘safety equipment’ is a misnomer. It is emergency or survival equipment. True safety comes from good seamanship which minimises the incidence of accidents and that is what this book is all about. Examples of true safety equipment . . . are the humble electric fuse, the lifeline and the harness . . . and the pound or two of slush that every one of us carries around for life in his skull.”

It is the slush, of course, that is the problem.

~~~

Chapter 3 is entitled ‘The Sea’ and deals with waves.

Coincidentally, my photos of the weekend included waves and I have put some together with John Russell’s text to see how they fit.

The weather was governed by high pressure.

The sky was blue, with occasional light cloud.

Such wind that there was was north westerly as the Cornish flag on Chapel Rock shows.

The sea was flat – you would not expect any waves other than the residual swell from weather far out in the Atlantic.

And this is what we had – the chance to look at individual waves washing ashore.

~~~

“When the wind stops blowing or changes direction, the sea it caused continues to travel on as a swell . . . Without the energy of the wind to sustain them the waves of a swell gradually decrease in height, but their period and length continue to increase, although at a diminishing rate: thus they become less obvious but move faster as they travel away from the original area.”

“. . . When the wave enters water less deep than half the wave length it begins to feel the interference of the sea bed. Its length decreases without alteration in its period, so it goes more slowly, while its height, after an initial slight decrease, begins to increase rapidly with decreasing depth. This causes the swell to become shorter and steeper . . .”

“When the depth of water falls to one-tenth of the deep-water wave length the increase in height becomes very marked, the progressive deceleration causes crowding with steepening and narrowing of the crests, retardation of the troughs steepens the wave fronts more than their backs and the wave is ready to break at the least provocation. At a depth equal to one-twenty-fifth of the deep-water wave length the relationship between length and period disappears, the wave speed becomes dependent on depth alone and it breaks.”

“For a given speed the energy of a breaking wave depends on how much solid water, as opposed to air and water, it contains, but with sea water at a ton a cubic metre even a modest, well-aerated crest produces  a clout equivalent to collision with a small car.”

“It seldom happens that the fronts of advancing waves are parallel to the bottom contours, so one side reaches the critical depth and begins to slow down before the rest with a result similar to optical refraction. Refraction causes the swells to swing round and align themselves with the bottom contours.”

“Waves frequently cross and even when they travel in the same direction their different characteristics blend to give results that do not appear in either system alone. When the difference in length is pronounced, as commonly occurs when  a sea is meeting or being overtaken by an old swell, the two component waves retain their identities. But when waves of only slightly different period and length combine they produce groups of noticeably higher waves interspersed at intervals with groups of remarkably lower ones as the component waves move in and out of phase,”

~~~

It is worth concentrating on the extracts above. Even if not written in customary blog language, they are a very good description of an often ill-described phenomenon.

You might ask why a book on seamanship should include a section on waves. Well . . . that’s where the ‘slush’ comes in.

For love of a boat – a new link

I have added Francois Vivier’s site to the “For love of a boat” links.

His small boat designs are an answer to the questions behind these posts.

Yes, there are people still designing and building ‘traditional’ boats .

In fact, there are a growing number of them finding ways and means to continue the evolutionary process and put traditional designs into a modern setting.

My thanks to Sjogin’s owner for pointing to Monsieur Vivier.

For the origins and full set of images in this series, here.

Folksong conversation – “Blue”?

“Blue”? “Blue”? Who’s Blue? My name’s Blue Mistress!

Yea, I know but . . .

Do you know that a person’s name are the most important words to them in the whole world?

Well, yes, I do. But you’re not a person, you’re a boat.

Same difference. It’s unlucky to change a boat’s name. Do you know about the ceremonies to do that?

OK. Let’s be real about this. I want to add another element to this blog – a conversation about boats, built around Folksongs.

I don’t want it to be a rant or a rave or me dictating what should or shouldn’t be – just a dialogue between me and whoever – in this case you, Blue. It gives me a chance to write in a different way and broaden the topics.

Sounds doubtful to me. Talking to a boat? They’ll think you’re nuts.

Maybe. But this blog is four years old. There’s plenty of stuff in it to say I may not be nuts. Anyway, it’s not an ‘official’ blog, it’s my blog.

So why can’t I still be Blue Mistress in this section?

Firstly, ‘Blue’ is short, easy and friendly. Secondly, the women in my family take your name literally – they think the time, energy and money I’ve put into you are similar to having a real mistress. I thought I’d try wild women and whisky for a year or two to show them how that works. I could get used to it – but only if they came sailing.

There was a move to rename you Blue Mist a couple of years ago to take the (st)ress out of you – (get it?).

But you need a positive reason to change a name. After all, once the change has been made, the new one is the important one. To be called Blue Mist “because-a-few-people-were-wary-of-Blue-Mistress” would have been all wrong. And look what it might have involved – here, here or here.

Ok. I’ll hold off – but only for four posts. It better be interesting.

We shall see.

On sailing a Folksong – spinnaker preparation

I went aboard during the slack tide to do a few jobs – strengthen the mooring lines, make it easier to drop the pick-up line and also the anti-chafe plastic piping on the stern lines had slipped and need re-securing. I ran the engine and remembered how much it needs a service.  And there was very little water in the boat – one pull on the hand-pump was enough.

~~~

When I bought Blue Mistress, I inherited a spinnaker that had seen better days and, having written it off, I have been content to sail without one. However, I have recently acquired a nearly-new spinnaker from a Folkboat –  (North Sails), so am now looking at ways of setting it.

The idea is to prepare the ground for doing it single-handed and then, for the first few times have a crew, to test out the the theory.

By sewing tags onto the spinnaker bag at the forward ‘angles’, I can tie it to either side of the pushpit forward of the stanchions. It will be held open by the line to the forestay and fixed at the base to the bow roller. The bungee cord can be tightened or loosened to control the size of the opening and keep the sail in the bag until needed.

Having worked that out and found the halyard was not long enough to feed back to the cockpit, which could be a problem –  (and dropped the bag back into the dinghy to bring home for sewing), I looked at the pole.

I wanted to decide on lengths – length of sheet/guy and downhaul.

By shackling a block forward, and feeding the downhaul back to the cockpit, I can control it from there.

The sheet/guy can be fed to the second track aft of the main sheet track and brought round the winch to the usual cleat, (Blue Mistress does not have self-tailing winches – doesn’t seem to need them).

I know it’s possible to do this single-handed because it happens on Fram.

In theory, given a good day and light winds, I could probably manage this sail – but, hey, that’s theory and I have a way to go yet. (All suggestions gratefully received).

~~~

By the time I came to leave, the flood tide was well under way and it carried the dinghy back to the slipway.

Just the two of us on this trot at the end of February – Blue Mistress and Charisma.