'Blue Mistress'

On Sailing a Folksong – annual mooring lift

/ Bill

The row out to the boat was shrouded in the morning mist – the top of the tide increasing the deep silence over still water.

Others were busy too. It was the annual mooring shift to allow the Cattewater Harbour Commission to lift and reset the moorings – a valuable service that gives peace of mind but requires some swift work to oblige.

The buoys are stripped of their usual tangle of lines and shackles, most of which have been there all year. As a result the pins are usually well and truly fast.

In Blue Mistress’ case this is not altogether true. We lost a pin due to a poorly moused shackle earlier last autumn, so there is one new, easily removed shackle. In fact all three of the shackles on our stern buoy (above) were relatively easy to remove but the two on the bow buoy were jammed. It required a very large spanner, another one jammed in the shackle to hold it still and two of us to lean on it.  Thanks to Freya’s skipper for his foresight and help – I promise to buy a bigger spanner next time!

~~~

When I looked up the fog had lifted and the rowers were out.

It seemed to good an opportunity to miss, so I motored down to the end of Mountbatten Pier in the sunshine, catching “Sweet As” returning from an early morning fishing trip.

The emphasis then came on lorries parked for the weekend – here below the mark (DirFRWG),

and here in gentle salute on the Cattewater Wharf.

On sailing a Folksong – Sunday morning log

/ Bill / 1 Comment

I was expected in Exeter this afternoon but checking the boat after the snow, the frosts and the rain of the past two weeks was a priority, so I seized the moment this morning.

The drive to Plymouth is about an hour and I got there about 10:15. By the time I had pumped up the dinghy, talked to the man who was going fishing in his ocean kayak and taken some photos, it was about 10:45 when I finally arrived aboard.

There is debris in the river from the heavy weather. In general, it floats past, but occasionally snags boats that are moored on the trots.

The mooring lines were as I had left them two weeks ago. There were no loose halyards. The sail cover was still firmly in place – it is too short and I have promised myself I will get one the right length one day. In the meantime, the boom end is covered by a square of canvas.

She looked neat in the morning sun.

The ten minute row demanded a small celebration.

Then start the engine (it fired first time!) and a look around before getting on with the several jobs I had planned:

The seagulls were enjoying the sunshine;

the fine house on the Cattewater shore was still overwhelmed by her industrial neighbours;

the boatyard on the opposite shore was the usual marvellous jumble of work-in-progress;

and the rowers were taking advantage of the weather.

A good day for a sail. Pity I had to return so soon.

On sailing a Folksong – of dolphins and speed

/ Bill / 2 Comments

AA has come up with an answer to my ‘the speed of dolphins’ question via this link.

Under the title “Dolphins swim so fast it hurts” the author reports:

“What is the fastest a dolphin can swim? Near the surface, no more than 54 kilometres per hour. Why? Because it hurts it to swim faster.Those are the findings of a pair of researchers from the Israel Institute of Technology in Haifa.  But tuna, they say, do not suffer the same problem. Gil Iosilevskii and Danny Weihs carried out a series of calculations to model the tail and fins of fish such as tuna and mackerel, and cetaceans such as dolphins. The aim was to determine what limits the maximum speed at which these creatures can swim. The researchers found that although muscle power is the limiting factor for small fish, this is not the case for larger and more powerful swimmers such as tuna and dolphins. . . .”

Citing cavitation – (the same problem that causes erosion in propellers), as the painful limiting factor, they give 10-15 metres per second (36-54 kilometres per hour) as a maximum.

~~~

So how does this tie in with man’s maximum speed on water without an engine?

For that, you have to look at Hydroptere achieving 51.3 knots over 500 metres

It seems they built an aeroplane and then found a way of gluing it to the surface of the water.

By the way, if you are a wooden-boat person, don’t for a moment think that boat-builders haven’t for ever been constantly developing their skills and technology to improve the speed and/or capacity of their craft, especially where commerce or glory were involved.

It’s not for nothing that the organisers of class-racing have had to place limits on boat specifications to make racing fairer – and don’t for a moment think that individual racers aren’t for ever looking for ways to quietly (very, very quietly) improve the performance of their own boats.

Hopefully, technology will come out of Hydroptere that will filter down to the rest of us.

(And let’s hope they continue to sail where there’s no traffic).

~~~

Which brings me to Blue Mistrss and a more prosaic rate of travel!

When the Folksong were built, one of the accepted methods of calculating maximum boat speed was as follows:

“The speed that a yacht’s hull can be made to travel through water is related to waterline length.

The formula for an average sea-going yacht of conventional shape is:

Speed in knots = 1.4 x Square root of the L.W.L. in feet

The multiplier is altered according to the type of hull. It may range from 1.25 for a tubby hull to 1.5  for a large racing yacht.”

Therefore Blue Mistress’ theoretical maximum speed at L.W.L 19’ 8”: (I have made no allowance for hull shape)

= 1.4 x square root of 19.66 ft = 1.4 x 4.434 = 6.2 knots

I guess there are several other calculations now, but that was then.

The maximum speed (recorded on my handheld gps) on last Sunday’s sail was 6.8 knots.

The best ever is 10.4 knots, remembering that this is speed-over-the-ground rather than speed-through-the-water, i.e. there was an element of tide in the speed recorded – and in the case of 10.4 knots it was a spring tide plus surfing that helped, which makes it even slower than Hydroptere where, presumably, for their record to stand, the water was slack.

Oh, and also not forgetting that my numbers would have to be achieved for a mere nano-second to satisfy the gps, not a timed distance over 500 metres!

~~~

But there’s one distinct advantage for Blue Mistress here  – I bet Hydroptere’s crew didn’t have time for the dolphins.

On sailing a Folksong – a Sunday sail in winter

/ Bill / 1 Comment

1030, Sunday 13th December

My first sail since the end of October.

Blue Mistress has ridden the storms reasonably well.

The forehatch has sprung a small leak. The sail bags are wet.

We have lost not one but two shackle pins on the stern lines.

Poor mousing on my part – (yes, I did use wire), and not helped by the vastly increased run-off of water from Dartmoor into the Plym.

~~~

The wind was easterly this morning and gusting. I left the Sound through the eastern entrance and sailed happily south – course 180 degrees (M), until Dodman Point opened up  in the west.

I turned for home about 1330.

There were one or two boats sailing and a number of small fishing boats. Mostly I had the sea to myself.

Looking towards Devon in the east to Great Mew Stone and the entrance to the Yealm

and towards Cornwall in the west – Rame Head with Kingsand and Cawsand on the right of the picture.

~~~

The wind decided to back towards north which was exactly wrong for re-entering the Sound.

I was concentrating on clearing the eastern end of the Breakwater, when four dolphins appeared from nowhere . . .

They were intent on play, appearing randomly around the boat, racing passed or lazily rolling under the keel.

As they levelled with the cockpit, I could have touched them.

Delighted, excited and entranced, the tiller in one hand, the camera in the other, I took lots of images – mostly of freshly disturbed water.

They lead me on – (note the rapidly approaching conical mark on the end of the Breakwater), and, when I looked up, I had missed the entrance and had to tack very quickly.

My new friends immediately disappeared, and I was reminded of the Sirens of Greek Mythology.

“OK, guys, joke over.”

250 yards on, I tacked back and there they were again.

They escorted me to the entrance to the Sound, before swimming off – no doubt chuckling all the way back to sea!

~~~

I was asked last week why I hadn’t taken my boat out of the water for the winter.

There’s your answer.

On sailing a Folksong – small jobs

/ Bill

The weather was due to set in yesterday afternoon and I was late getting aboard – so no sail, but a happy couple of hours doing small jobs:

  • A small brass cleat plus a short lanyard on a brass screw will stop the lid over the stove crushing the kettle every time we go onto a port tack.
  • Two O-rings will hold the chart table firmer to its fittings. The play wasn’t much but just enough to cause concern.
  • The greaser for the stern gland has been recharged. How do you stop grease travelling around a small saloon? Answer: wear gloves, have a couple of cloths handy and be very, very careful!
  • The oil has been checked. We have used a little since the last check, but it’s ok.
  • The screws on the autohelm attachment below the tiller needed tightening. I have used it much less this year – enjoying the helm myself or letting the crew steer. It was only when I removed it  last time that I noticed the fitting was moving. I shall watch it more closely in future.

~~~

I have been playing with a tubtrug as a simple solution for extra stowage in the fore cabin.

They are large enough to hold all sorts of odds and ends that you don’t need often, but when you do need them, it’s always in a hurry and they are always buried somewhere.

Because space (including headroom) is limited in a boat this size, stowage is critical. It’s hard work searching beneath piles of loose gear. Using these for bins, clears the fore cabin and makes it easy to open the lockers in the sole.

As from yesterday, this one holds various coils of rope, lines etc; it was  sea boots, awning, hand-bailer and a couple of fenders (as in the image) before that.

They are flexible, meaning they are very easy to pull into the saloon or up on deck.

I like the versatility  – it would bail a lot of water in an emergency.

This one  fits snugly just forward of the main bulkhead. It needs a simple fastening to hold it steady on a starboard  tack.

They are an excellent place for wet heavy-weather gear in a boat with no hanging locker.

I am going to buy another one in a garden sale.

~~~

Oh, and I took a some of bearings and transferred them to the chart. Just practising 🙂

On sailing a Folksong – an October Saturday

/ Bill

A perfect sail yesterday – sunshine and steadyish wind (maybe needed a little more for absolute perfection).

Starboard tack out through the eastern entrance to Shag Stone, then a close reach to Cawsand.

Plenty of other boats out.

We anchored for an hour or so’s picnic close inshore, a short distance from Cawsand and Kingsand

And enjoyed the run home to Cattewater wharves. picking up the mooring around 1700.

Good sail, good company. Thanks, guys.

On sailing a Folksong – wind over tide

/ Bill / 1 Comment

“My second priority was performance – speed on all points of sail and the ability to keep going in a short steep sea where you’ve the combination of wind over tide in shallow water.” – Eric Bergqvist

“When waves run from an area of relatively slack water into an opposing stream they will bunch up in a way similar to when they run into shallow water. Likewise, if waves run into a stream flowing in the same direction, they will spread out.” from Weather to Sail, by Mike Brettle and Bridget Smith

~~~

After the Yealm trip, the crew went home and I spent the night on the boat – bacon, two eggs, beans followed by half a tin of pineapple chunks, then tea and chocolate, a Raymond Carver collection of short stories and the weather forecast – bliss.

Except the weather forecast was bleak – southerly winds, (force 7 was mentioned), rain, poor visibility.

The rain arrived in the middle of the night, beating an uneven tattoo on the deck, while the wind flogged a loose halyard against the mast of an unidentified boat nearby.

And in the morning? Well, what do you do? Stay in your bunk bemoaning the bad luck that brought inclement weather on the one weekend you had to spare for the boat – or do you do something?

OK. Going to sea in a 25 foot boat in poor visibility with the possibility of force 7 onshore winds is not sensible. How about gaining some experience with a motor/sail inside the Sound and up the Tamar to the Lynher River and back?

Not particularly sensible either. The challenge here would be heavy, possibly gusting winds opposing an ebbing spring tide – one of the highest of the year, meaning strong currents, broken water and short steep waves. In our first year with Blue Mistress, we had a swing mooring on the Tamar – on the Cornwall side of the river at Torpoint. I am more than aware of the effect of wind over tide here, and the way the wind can funnel up the river.

Blue Mistress at Torpoint 2006

On the other hand, this a boat designed with such conditions in mind.

And, if nothing else, it would be a chance to see whether my new flotation suit is waterproof!

~~~

The sail from the Plym to the Tamar is brisk – foresail only. The Sound is lumpy, the outgoing tide from two rivers meeting somewhere along the way and the wind blowing hard from the south. Dinghies are flying to and fro to the east of Drake’s Island preparing to race. RIBS full of stewards flitter everywhere.

The current flowing through the Narrows slow us to 1 knot – engine and sail. Sheltered from the full effect of the wind, the water is smooth here, but as we turn north into the wider expanse of the Tamar, the waves become more urgent. By now, there are three of us yachts running with the wind, occasionally surfing, but comfortably settled to the task, helmsmen concentrating.

The car ferries are still running. I commit to going astern of one ferry just leaving the Torpoint shore and have to alter course more than expected passing in close to the fixed moorings – carefully avoiding the ferry’s chain.

We meet one of two fishing boats, powering into the waves, throwing water aside. Towards the entrance to the Lynher, my companions keep straight on towards Saltash while I veer slightly to port looking for the red canister buoy that marks the entrance to the channel. Here there are Royal Naval moorings, with various barges attached.

At his point I am passed in very quick succession by four large RIBs each carrying perhaps a dozen or so helmeted young sailors making for HMS Raleigh. I get a few side-lnog glances but in the main each man clutches firmly the back of the seat in front, looking determinedly forward in the, by now, heavy rain. They must be looking forward to hot drinks and dry clothes a few minutes ahead. As they disappea down the line of bargees a naval launch scuttled past, an officer leaning nonchalantly against the cabin top. They show the way to the buoy and disappeared up river.

~~~

So, rounding the buoy into the Lynher, we (boat and I) are faced with a strong head wind, a strong out-flowing tide and smoother water.

Although we can manage the stretch to the next buoy close-hauled, the sail will have to come down. There follows a few minutes scramble as I point the boat into the wind, slight throttle on the engine to give some direction – (but wind and current too strong to keep that direction for long), let go the jib halyard, rush forward to catch the sail before it drops in the water, hurriedly make it fast to the lifelines, back to the tiller to bring her back into the wind – which requires more throttle than expected, forward again to tidy loose ends, and back to regain control. Thank goodness for the low cabin top and free movement forward on the Folksong.

I motor slowly past HMS Raleigh and turn across the wind towards Antony Passage, making the red canister buoy. At this stage, the prospect of an even slower plod straight into the full force of wind and current loses its thrill and I decided to turn for home.

A large (40 foot?) yacht is running downwind and passes me at speed, three older gentlemen on board, blue ensign flying. I follow her, travelling fast now with wind and tide. under engine only, knowing that all would change when we reach the Tamar again.

An even larger ketch motors across in front of us, seemingly heading for a quieter mooring in the lee on the North Wilcove side.

A white, wooden Folkboat motors upriver towards Saltash, towing a small pram dinghy.

The yacht ahead, heeled abruptly taking the full force of the wind and headed close-hauled to the Devon side on the river. I keep close in the slight lee on the Cornish side until there is no choice but to face the wind.

~~~

It would be possible to write an exciting adventure story around this – how we overcome wind, waves and repeated danger to triumph in the end. But the point is that the boat is up to the trip. All that is required of me is to make directional decisions – keep to a sensible course and speed and avoid taking a wave over the side.

We enter the main part of the river through two standing waves. They are quite steep and close together – or seemed to be as there isn’t time to think about them. Blue Mistress lifts to the first one and comes down onto the second one, slicing into it, throwing water aside – the long keel keeping a firm grip. Very little comes on deck, despite the low freeboard. This seems to be the pattern – spray will blow aboard, but green water very rarely. (As EB says, she was designed to take this).

The wind is strong and steady, throwing up plenty of wind-blown spray. This is the first time I have ever had to abandon my glasses – too salty of see through, too much rain and too much concentration on steering to clean them.

This length of the river is a little over two nautical miles long with a width varying between a quarter and a third nautical mile. Apart from the car ferries and the police patrol launches, there is no one ahead of me. The yacht that has been ahead is now behind and a little later she disappears into the Torpoint shore. The prospect is bleak – empty wharves, dockside buildings, moored yachts appearing and disappearing in the incessant rain.

As we progress, wet sails ready to set if the engine failed, it looks as though the water is slightly less rough over on the Devon side and I angle across. Looking back, I doubt if it was – it certainly didn’t feel it at the time. The waves are short, steep and some of them are breaking – not dangerously, but enough to want to avoid them. At no point am I concerned, but once or twice I remember something my grandfather used to say – “. . . no more – – – – – – sense than he was born with.”

At the end of the straight a much larger boat suddenly appears round the corner heading upriver and we get a friendly wave – then I saw him look upstream and then back across at Blue Mistress and give a thumbs-up. Actually, that’s what I thought, too.

The rest is straightforward. The current down to the entrance to the Narrows is still strong, but the water smooth. I cut the engine, set the foresail and we shoot back to the Plym, passing the Brittany Ferries’ ‘Pont Aven’ manoeuvring stern first into her berth. At the entrance to Sutton Harbour, a large white yacht appears, pauses while a conversation is held in the cockpit, turns and disappears back into the marina.

I lower the foresail off the Cattewater wharves and motor back to the mooring, picking up the trot rope easily in the now slackening tide.  The time is 1430.

Leaving the soaking sails on deck, the rest of the day is spent with Raymond Carver below – and the rain keeps falling!

On sailing a Folksong – companionway cover

/ Bill

When I bought Blue Mistress, she had a spray hood.

Unfortunately, it got in the way every time I wanted to go below or when going forward, so I spent most of the time with it folded down.

Folded down, it still got in the way when I went forward as I tended to trip over it.

It did, however, protect the sliding hatch from leaking rainwater.

Nevertheless, I removed it at the first refit and haven’t really missed it.

The only difficulty now was that there was no protection from rainwater getting in around the edges of the sliding hatch.

So, at the last refit, Richard produced this cover.

This has almost solved the problem and I am very pleased with it.

It is held on with popper studs and rolls back neatly with a couple of strips of velcro. It can be removed easily.

If it comes on to rain, or there is spray, the hatch slides over and the cover unrolled very simply, rather than having to go below for the drop boards.

When below, it can be rolled down to allow privacy without closing off the companionway entirely.

I say almost solved the problem.

The next design will include narrow side panels to protect the sides of the hatch. We have had some torrential downpours here this summer and occasionally water has got in, particularly on the port side. Not nearly as much as before. (Of course, this also says something about the  original hatch design).

Side panels will effect the way it is rolled back, but I am sure this can be overcome.

On sailing a Folksong – Interview with Eric Bergqvist (continued) . . .

/ Bill / 1 Comment

Here is the the continuation of the interview with Eric Bergqvist by Ted Bradbury, who, at the time, was looking for a seaworthy cruiser to sail to the Azores – (with thanks to Mike Burns). I guess this would have been sometime around 1982/83:

Ted: I do appreciate how reasonable your prices are – (hull and deck mouldings £1750 +VAT – ed.), but doesn’t that mean that the boat has been designed to its limits – minimum bulkheads and thin laminates etc?

Eric: Not at all. The long low profile of the Folksong uses less materials as well as contributing to the boats sailing performance. The laminate is of chopped strand mat construction resulting in a thick hull which, although hand laid, is quick and easy to make. The deck is an economical one-piece moulding and the bulkheads and other interior fit-out all wood.

Ted: Why is the wood interior economical? It must take a lot of time to fit and finish.

Eric: It will take longer to fit than the kit of moulded and pre-finished parts that you would have to buy to complete a modern production yacht but these kits are expensive because you are paying for someone else’s labour and overheads. Such kits also offer very little, if any, flexibility or freedom of design. Our basic interior kit is simple and straightforward because it’s been designed specifically for the home-builder who can keep the layout as it is or add his own ideas and innovations as he goes along. We sell bare hulls and decks to customers who want to do it all themselves, or part or fully finished boats to those who haven’t the time or inclination for fitting out. Admittedly the finish we use, painted plywood with varnished hardwood trims, is time-consuming, but it is also relatively inexpensive. It has a warm classic look and can be smartened up each spring with a fresh coat of paint.

Ted: I think I see now why you haven’t attempted to give the Folksong standing headroom, but surely this is unacceptable to most prospective buyers.

Eric: I agree that the lack of standing room is a drawback but a box cabin high enough to allow for this would ruin her lines and performance and increase the cost. There are plenty of 25 footers to choose from with standing headroom but few that can be built as economically as the Folksong or perform as well. In fact the Folksong’s headroom rarely concerns my serious customers because the Folksong design appeals principally to experienced sailors. Like you and I they have the ultimate ambition of making that long ocean passage and are confident that the Folksong can help them accomplish such a dream.

Ted: Finally, Eric, have you made any improvements to the Folksong in the three years you’ve been producing her?

Eric: Of course. The design is constantly developing. From the fifty or so boats built we’ve had a lot of customer feedback and each year a new interior is planned for a customer’s own specific requirements. Recently a new cockpit layout was added with an outboard well, and the Folksong hull has been successfully used for other hone designed cruisers. At the moment, two customers are building Chinese junk rigged Folksongs. One of these is a replica of Blondie Hasler’s Folkboat, Jester, that made so many single-handed transatlantic crossings. And what better recommendation for a Folkboat than that!

~~~

Well, there you have it from the designer himself. He wanted the Folksong to be good-looking, economical in its simplicity, have a good performance – hence the low profile, be flexible in its design and be capable of ocean voyages by the ambitious and the experienced.

That’s what I saw the day I first saw Blue Mistress. What about you?