Winches

07/05/2007 / Bill

He is a little embarrassed to tell this – not sure why, except he thinks he should know better.

Recently the brake on the starboard sheet winch stopped working. The drum turned freely both ways – no comforting click. Now that both winches have been removed from Blue Mistress for her refit, this is the obvious time to repair and service them.

For anyone who hasn’t seen inside, a winch is one of those objects that is fine in itself but, to be honest, is a complete mystery. How does it work? What makes it click? What stops it rotating anti-clockwise? And if the clicking stops does it mean some sort of spring or clip or finely engineered dubris has fractured? Will this be highly expensive? Does it need a specialist to sort it out?

At the very least, it means getting out the ‘how to’ books and reading them very carefully.

‘How to’ books are hot on warnings and the sections on winches particularly so. Instructions like ‘gently’, ‘slowly’, ‘carefully’, ‘remember to record the order the parts come off’, ‘ use a container to put all the bits in’, ‘a coordinated softly-softly approach’, ‘do not lose these springs and makes sure they don’t jump out as they are freed’, ‘always take special care that you don’t lose any of the tiny springs etc’, ‘spread a sheet under the vice to catch them’ and so on.

This is all very sound advice, and now that he knows, he understands why. However, by the time he had finished reading, he was jolly sure it would be an impossible task, especially as the winch in the pictures looked nothing like the winches in front of him.

And he’s left-handed, which means that all the pictures had been taken the wrong way round for him. Eighty per cent of the time, this doesn’t matter – after all, he’s had a lifetime to get used to looking at ‘right-handed instructions’, but when a job needs ‘care’, gentleness’, ‘slowness’ , i.e. has all the hall-marks of a precision job, he needs to be spoon-fed (or he thinks he does).

The reality usually turns out quite differently, of course.

However, it took three days of looking at the winches, absorbing the instructions, downloading the parts manual from the internet, before he plucked up the courage to start.

When he did so, the bomb-squad would have been proud of him. He made absolutely sure no one was anywhere near him. (The area had been cleared!)

Carefully, gently and slowly, he prised off the circlip on the top of the first winch and, placing his thumbs on the drive shaft and his fingers around the drum, he gingerly lifted the drum millimetre by millimetre until it was clear of the base. At any moment he expected a small explosion and a shower of little springs to fly across the room.

And this is what he found?

He could have removed this drum in an open cockpit in an Atlantic storm and not lost a single part!

Now he could see why the clicking has stopped – all four pawls (the comma-shaped objects at either end of the drum) were jammed by grease and salt – as were the rollers. Every other part was dry and covered in salt.

It took two hours of soaking in paraffin, carefully separating parts, brushing, scrubbing, polishing, light greasing and oiling to get it back together again. There was no corrosion or fracture or any engineering defect whatever – four pawl springs were replaced. It works perfectly again – job done.

It took half an hour to strip the first winch and five minutes the second.

Now he knows it’s straightforward he will service them again next year.

He’ll have to be careful, of course, next time the parts really will be freer – and just maybe will explode everywhere.

Just for the love of it

04/05/2007 / Bill

I originally started this blog because I bought a boat – a Folksong – last year. (I had my first sight of her, one year ago tomorrow).

There was plenty of work to do on her but I knew of no other Folksong owners with experience of these boats, so, in the mode of the times, I conducted a search online. I set up a three-month blog. This worked, and although there are only a few owners out there who found me, I am very grateful to them for there assistance. I hope I can repay their kindness as time goes on.

At the end of three months, I had had the good advice I sought, made the necessary decisions about ‘Blue Mistress’ and was ready to close the blog. However, someone, (from Seattle, I think, or was it Vancouver?), suggested I continue, and I got interested in the possibilities of sharing information that is of interest to members of my widespread family – widespread in both age and distance, to friends I know well and also to those people I have never met but are interested in the subject (maritime history as told and recorded by my ancestors). All the while, ‘Blue Mistress’ has been the thread that holds the blog together.

At the end of a further four months, this too has proved a positive exercise. I have found a new respect for my great grandfather, been able to informally share details with my family that would otherwise have laid in a box between the covers of a notebook, and learnt a great deal about writing online.

There have been four main lessons:

Lesson one: Very, very few people are really interested in what you write;

Lesson two: Even then, their interest varies with the subject – (common sense this). They don’t care about everything you write, only some things;

Lesson three: People you know (especially those you are related to) are particularly critical – and often miss the point. (Who was it who said that we think of ourselves as we see us in the future, other people see us as we were in the past? For those who know us well, our past can be very vivid, clear and of mixed interpretation).

Lesson four: It is possible to become bored with the word ‘I’ – perhaps bored is the wrong word but certainly restricted. In the end, who really cares about ‘I’ except ‘me’. On the other hand, the possibilities of writing in the third person are infinite.

So, for the next three months, Bill is going to stand back and join you, the reader, and see if he can retain your interest by reflecting a way of life he loves. Although ‘Blue Mistress’ will continue to be a unifying thread, his intention is to learn what are to him new ways of writing about sailing and the sea. If you care to come along, he hopes you will enjoy it – just for the love of it.

After thought

22/04/2007 / Bill / 1 Comment

I’ve been thinking about the “Ceres” and the last entry in my grandfather’s notes on her.

“Foundered midnight Nov 24 1936. Bideford Bay, Crew saved by lifeboat.” This after 125 years of active service.

It’s not the crew I’ve been thinking of. I met them when I was young – they survived.

It’s what happened to the ship that fascinates me. How did she settle?

Did she go down bow first, stern first?

Did she settle upright? (She was carrying approximately 80 tons of slag as cargo).

What happened to the mast, the rigging and the sails?

I guess the captain’s cabin filled pretty quickly. I saw a picture of it once. My grandfather’s office was lined with wood paneling that matched that cabin.

More relevantly, how does she look now – on the floor of Bideford Bay – sixty years or so later?

I thought of her the day I delivered Blue Mistress for her haul out.

While waiting for the hoist, I walked from Turnchapel back to Oreston to fetch the car.

The walk skirts Hooe Lake which is a tidal inlet on the south bank of the River Plym.

At the east end of the Lake, I took these pictures.

This is a sight you can see on any of the major rivers, estuaries and inlets of the Westcountry, (the Fal, the Fowey, the Dart, the Tamar, the Plym, the Exe and on). Indeed throughout the UK and Europe too, and, I guess, around the globe – in the mud, beneath tree-lined banks, wooden vessels of a certain age gently decay, slowly fading into their surroundings. Biodegradable, most of the materials they were made of allow that to happen. A slow end to a hard, romantic life.

Well, that was then. What about now.

Wrecks still happen.

This one (MSC “Napoli” ) within the last few months – a greater spectacle, with more visual impact, and a great deal more environmental consequences than “Ceres” – or the three wrecks above. This is not a wooden vessel – no biodegration here.

OK, the wreck was a result of heavy weather and a judicious (?) decision on where best to beach her – (as it happens, off a World Heritage coastline).

You might say, “These things happen. However skilled and careful mankind is, major disasters will occur. It’s how we deal with them that marks us out.”

That may be so, but some “disasters” can be anticipated and maybe we should be ready for them. Try this for example:

In years to come, we will have to deal with another environmental concern. This one will creep up on us: Where are all those yachts and boats that fill our marinas, harbours and rivers going to go after we’ve finished with them? Will they slowly fade into their surroundings? I hope we will enjoy them for many more years. And when we’ve finished, pass them on to new owners for their turn. But will they last 125 years? The boats themselves might not, but the materials they’re made of will. For certain, tree-lined banks of tidal inlets will not be an option.

I am not wishing to make a huge issue about this, nor am I despondent about man’s ability to cope. But I am interested, (and I hope you are too), because it is one small aspect of a much greater concern that is beginning to concentrate our minds and will continue to do so over the next decades – What are we going to do with all these indestructible materials?

I won’t be here to find out the answers, probably neither will my children, but my yet-to-be-born grandchildren will . . . and I care about them and their generation.

Refit 2007

20/04/2007 / Bill / 1 Comment

First undercoat.

Stern Lockers

15/04/2007 / Bill

Back to Blue Mistress.

The refit proceeds and the quality of the finished work so far is excellent.

Stern locker hatches.

Four problem with the old ones:

1. The wood frame was beginning to rot.

2. To open them, the tiller had to be moved out of the way, which was a nuisance at sea.

3. They could only be opened so far before getting caught on the (divided) backstay – so had to be held back with shot cord.

4. They leaked.

I asked for a solution that we could sit on and would also take my full weight if stood on.

It also needs to be shallow enough to allow the Autohelm, which stretches horizontally from a deck fitting on the starboard coaming into an attachment below the tiller, to move freely.

Richard has come up with a solution that seems to covers all the above.

The new lids are heavy and robust and, when finished, will seal neatly over the new lipping around the lockers.

Because they are not hinged, they will be permanently made fast to the boat from internal eyebolts.

They have to be put to the test, of course, but I am delighted with the result which is practical, skillfully fitted and has added considerably to the appearance of the boat.

The story so far

30/03/2007 / Bill

Some of the deck fittings on Blue Mistress have been found to leak. Also, there are fittings that are no longer needed, as well as points where fittings have been removed and repair of the grp would be beneficial. The deck also needs stripping and recoating.

She is now under cover – to allow her to dry out completely before applying new materials.

Many of the fittings have been removed, including some damaged woodwork.

Now is the time to decide what fittings should be replaced and also where improvements can be made.

We can also see the difference removing the existing windows makes to the appearance. We are going to place alloy-framed windows, with an internal ring that can be removed when the new cabin lining is placed next year.

One point that has nothing to do with the deck-work but a lot to do with appearance is the position of the yellow strip on the waterline.

The growth indicates it is probably too low and it would be better to scrap this line and place a strip higher on the hull, bringing the antifouling up to it.

A boat out of water

18/03/2007 / Bill

A short story in pictures.

Blue mistress is now tucked away – under cover – drying out .

Ready to haul out

11/03/200712/03/2007 / Bill / 1 Comment

Blue Mistress has moved out of the marina onto a trot mooring and will be hauled out next week.

The image is a good study in comparative yacht design. (Blue Mistress is the boat in the middle if this is the first time you’ve seen this blog).

Everything has been taken out of her, except flares, warps and fenders and an anchor on the foredeck.

It’s interesting to see she is a little down at the stern. This is the inboard engine which was added later.

She originally had a large outboard on the stern which must have weighed her down further.

She sails better with weight forward.

This is a major refit, which is planned to take six weeks or so. Among other things, all the deck fittings are coming off and being refitted and the deck recoated. There are some annoying leaks on some of the fittings and, rather than only seal those and wait for others to open up, we are “starting again”

Fittings missing from the coach roof are grab rails.

When I stripped the lining from the cabin deckhead, I discovered the original holes for the grab-rail fittings which have been filled in. My natural inclination is to replace them – safety being the most obvious reason, but I don’t know what the best design would be. Elegant carved teak is not the Blue Mistress style. What are the alternatives?

The Cockpit Sole

03/03/200704/03/2007 / Bill / 3 Comments

One of the problems with the Folksong is cockpit drainage.

There are two drains set into the aft end of the cockpit that, in Blue Mistress’ case, lead out below the waterline.
Because the cockpit sole is at water level, there is always water visible in these drains.
At no time, in the six months I have sailed her, have I got wet feet, or found there to be any other than a minimal amount of water around these drains.
I am assured by the previous owner that he found this to be so too.

However, I know of at least one other boat that has ‘wet foot’ problems.

Well, I have found that the cockpit sole of Blue Mistress is a false one. It is 4-5 inches above the original.
There is a space between with, I presume, a supporting framework.
I guess this was a problem picked up when she was originally launched.

The real problem, of course, is how to placing sea valves on the outboard end of the drains to stop inflow in the unfortunate event of the drain becoming detached.

One solution is to place a sealed box containing an automatic pump below the cockpit, and direct the drains into this with an outlet above the waterline.
It sounds plausible, but a) expensive, and b) likely to be a drain on the batteries.

The jury is still out.

Inshore Craft 1

19/02/200720/02/2007 / Bill / 5 Comments

“We treat the past as a foreign country, when, in reality, it was occupied by the same people as us.”

I’ve forgotten who said that but I was reminded of it when I saw that Edgar March’s “Inshore Craft of Britain: In the Days of Sail and Oar” has just been republished.

It was first published in 1970, and covers small working boats of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries. Reading it, I was fascinated that an island as small Britain should have developed so many different shaped boats to perform more or less the same thing. Each locality had grown a different tradition. These working boats were, in effect, visual versions of regional accents. Thirty five years later, I am still fascinated.

Three reasons for liking this book:

1. For the boats themselves – as complex objects, with lines and detail, some more elegant than others, but all with a functional beauty that fitted their surroundings.

2. They were true examples of the the concept of ‘form following function’, made more substantial in that they were the livelihood of their owners and crew. Here were small boats constructed in local yards round the coastline of a small island. They varied in shape, in design and in size, not just from region to region but often from harbour to harbour, the only limitation being in the wood and materials used in their construction.

On the face of it, looking back from our mass-produced, communication-efficient world, it can be difficult to understand why this Falmouth Workboat, photographed off Polruan in Cornwall

should differ so much from this Coble, photographed at Seahouses in Northumberland.

After all, they were built for more or less the same purpose.

In fact, the answer isn’t so difficult. Take one island, facing north, south, east and west; take tides, currents, prevailing winds; take a long, varied coastline, some stretches steep and rugged, some shallow with sand and mud, some exposed to the weather, some with large safe deep harbours, some with just a rock or two for shelter. Add a function – fishing, trade, piloting, transport.

Even today, these factors would make a difference to shape and form, but think what centuries of experience of local conditions would do. Think about the materials that would be available in one part of the country that weren’t in another. Think about the traditions that would have grown up around a particular coastline. And to really understand what it was like, you need to take one other factor into account:

3. The owners and crew who sailed in them. They represented the way of life of countless small communities. This was a world where experience counted, where fathers passed their skills onto their sons and, less so in those days, their daughters. Here were local communities, not necessarily isolated from one another but certainly separated, who developed their own craft specifically for the coastal conditions in their area.

No different from us today – they faced the problems of the time and had to solve them. They laughed like us, they cried like us, they succeeded, they failed, they loved, they hated – just like us. They knew what hard work meant. Some did it well, some badly, a few brilliantly. Some were successful financially and went on to do more, some were less so. But their knowledge, skills and attitudes came from doing, from experiencing first-hand. It took longer to gain them, but the best results lasted as long, if not longer, than ours will today. Those hard-won abilities created individuals in a world that needed individuals.

There is one major difference between are ancestors and us today. We have access to more knowledge and more skills, and at a far younger age, than those who came before us could possibly imagine in their wildest dreams – (think Google, endless courses, books, journals and DVDs). But, despite this, our basic ability to absorb and use our new-found knowledge has not grown in line with our sources. In the end, we learn best by doing too – and it still takes time. All the rest of the stuff that comes our way is ‘on approval’ – and we are becoming increasingly swamped by it, struggling to be individuals in a sea of often irrelevant information.

So what’s your point, Bill?

I don’t have a romantic view of the past but I do have a respect for those who learn from experience – and I don’t care whether they were born in 2007 or 1007. (At this point, it would be easy to bang on about our not learning the lessons of the past, but that’s for others to do).

What I would like to do is to stay with boats and to use the concepts above – a) boats themselves, b) the fact of their form following their function, and c) the crews who sail in them, and, as I travel around the coasts not just of the UK but further afield, record, if I can, examples of craft that are being used today that represent this long line of experience. No doubt, some will exhibit a high quality of craftsmanship, some less so. But it isn’t the quality I want to pick out here. What interests me are the solutions to maritime problems that work in particular circumstances. Like this small fishing boat moored in Trikeri on the Pelion Peninsular, on the Aegean shores of Greece.

I do not pretend to be an expert. Inevitably, my efforts will be random observations and certainly not comprehensive. But, this is not an academic study, it is a record of small pleasures, pleasures I believe I share with many other people.

It is also a record of concern, a concern I also share with many others. Times are changing so fast that much hard-won, long-term experience is being sacrificed in the name of easily-found, short-term expediency. We badly need to hang on to some of that experience.

So, my entries to this blog over the next year or so will include an ‘Inshore Craft’ series of images. I hope they will be of interest to you. Please feel free to add your own if you wish.

Beyond Steeple Point

"Not all who wander are lost"

'Blue Mistress'