In picking a canoe, the safest and
fastest model has a quite flat bottom, with a sharp,
round turn to the bilge. The tippy ones are those deep
and round on the bottom with no bilge, having no more
stability than a barrel. The flat bottom draws but
little water, slides over the stream like a duck, and
it makes her a prime sailer because she is so staunch.
The dimensions of my own canoe, a faster canoe by
hours than many another model which she has raced
downstream, are: length, 16 feet; beam, 33 inches;
depth amidships, 12 inches; depth bow and stern, 24
inches; width of comparatively flat bottom, 24 inches.
The cheaper type $20 canoe, one of which is owned by
my boys, has the following dimensions: length, 15 feet
6 inches; beam, 31 inches; depth amidships, 12-1/2
inches; depth, bow and stern, 22 inches; width of
comparatively flat bottom, 16 inches. This latter
canoe is much more tottly than mine, hard to sail and
nowhere near so staunchly built. Both canoes weigh
about 60 pounds.
Having purchased the canoe, the first thing to
learn is how to paddle her. The sign of the novice is
his reaching far ahead for his water. Do not let
yourself do that; you have no leverage there, most of
your strength is to be put in as the left wrist passes
your left hip, the while your right hand is sweeping
the top of the paddle forward. This will put your
shoulder and body into it and the motion can be kept
up all day without fatigue. If paddling with another
fellow in the bow, the stern man is always captain,
and he is to correct with a turn of his paddle any
deviation from the true course during each stroke.
Your mate may be weaker than you, and the canoe then
tends to swing towards his paddle side, which is
generally opposite to yours. In that case, correct him
at the end of each of your strokes with a turn of the
paddle.
If paddling alone it makes a vast difference where
you sit as to how the canoe behaves. Abandon the rear
seat and find a place kneeling somewhere just forward
of the rear crossbrace. Here you can paddle on one
side indefinitely, holding the paddle blade at a
slight angle inwards from straight across. If you find
that the canoe tends to sheer away from course
opposite from the side where you are paddling, move a
bit further forward and alter the angle of your paddle
slightly until you get her balanced just right. It is
the only way to win a race, for the time lost in
correcting your course at each stroke, as you would
have to do sitting in the rear seat, will lose you out
every time.
River paddling, especially in rapid white water, is
full of kinks which you have to know and use
instantly. If the bow man, never embarrass the stern
man by striking at rocks, etc., with your paddle. You
will do no good whatever, and may upset the canoe. The
water always takes care of the bow, the stern is the
thing to be swung clear with the paddle. You report
"Rock ahead!" and be sure that he sees it, and then
leave it to him. His stunt is to backpaddle the stern
of the canoe away from the position of the obstruction
when the current will swing the bow, as it is flowing
faster than the canoe is going. The bow man's hard
work comes going around bends. The river tends to
swing the canoe into the main eddies and your aim is
to keep out of them, cutting across in the still
water. If you want hard work going downstream just let
the canoe stay indefinitely in the deepest and
fiercest waters! And so the bow man must anticipate
the river each time and get his bow headed out of the
eddies and into the quiet part of the bends, as here
the stern man can aid but little. As soon as the bow
is right the stern man puts in his strength and shoves
her ahead across the head of the bend. Never back
paddle at these times, you lose all your steerage way
and put yourself at the mercy of the current.
Down trees and shallows require instant decision as
to where to take them and agreement at the same time
between bow and stern as to what they are going to do.
Don't argue or fight when the river is bearing you
swiftly on the obstacle! All other things being equal,
the stern paddle has the say. There is usually a hole
around one end or the other of the tree through which
the canoe can be snaked. Occasionally it is advisable
to cross the stream without going either up or down,
and to do this, bow back paddles lightly and stern
paddles forward heavily, which will have the effect of
holding the canoe stationary at a slant upward to the
stream. The current will then take her across.
In approaching a down tree which cannot be gotten
around, back her and let her swing about gently until
broadside to the stream alongside the log. Pull out
the heaviest duffle and set on log. One man stands on
the log on either side of the canoe, and between them
she is slid over. Most of the duffle can be left
aboard.
In rocky waters, go ahead and look over the rapids
before venturing out, for once started there is no
turning back. More than once you will need to have the
courage to be a coward, -- for it takes a brave man to
say "No !" when an inexperienced crowd want to run a
rapids that better men than any of them have portaged
around. If there is a portage trail it is a pretty
fair sign that most canoeists go around instead of
shooting the rapids. Look for a landing, apparently
much used, or a blazed tree, or tin can on a sapling.
If you have decided to run, see that all duffle is
lashed securely and go to it, the stern man being the
responsible one. As the current splits over rocks it
forms a cushion which will float your bow away if the
stern man but guides it in the current and takes care
to keep his stern clear. Keep where there is plenty of
current and water but avoid the main bend, if
possible, particularly if there are many rocks. Back
paddle and let her come down easy at all points of
danger.
The stern paddle should be heavy, of hard maple and
copper shod, five feet long, 28-inch blade, 6-1/2
inches wide. The bow paddle is lighter, of spruce,
five feet long, 26-inch blade, 5-1/2 inches wide. If
upset in a rapids, hang to the canoe and let the
paddles go; you can find them somewhere in an eddy
downstream later, but to swim after them in rough
water is folly. One man takes the bow and the other
the stern, and you work her ashore as soon as
possible, build a conflagration and dry out
everything. In traversing, i.e., crossing, a lake or
bay, look carefully at your whitecaps first, or
indications of wind if the water is calm.
A canoe lightly loaded will live in an incredible
sea; heavily loaded she becomes logy and a death trap.
Once in November I came spinning down the Metedeconk
River with seven miles of white water behind me in
which even a heavy 25-foot launch made desperate
weather. I had my boy and a chum along and all our
duffle, but one look at the whitecaps made me decide
on a backpacking expedition for them along shore,
while I took the canoe alone. I left 50 pounds of
duffle in her and started downwind for a point three
miles away.
It was sure a wild ride! The seas were three to
four feet high, whitecapped, and the wind so strong
that it blew the canoe bodily across the waters.
Gradually I worked the canoe out abreast of the point,
but I blew down on it so fast that I suddenly realized
that I would clear it, if at all, only by the most
desperate paddling. As it was, I ran into the big
combers off the point, the second one of which picked
up the canoe broadside and curled her over as if to
dash her bottom up on the shoals.
"No you don't!" I gasped, and, shoving hard down on
the weather gunwale with my elbow, I righted her and
took the sea aboard. It filled her a third full of
water, but, before the next comber could pour in its
cap, I had flown around the point and was in the still
water under its lee, where the boys soon joined me.
So, if you must traverse, and the seas are high and
choppy, better make it in two trips lightly loaded
than try to do it in one and get swamped. When you see
a sea about to curl aboard, give the canoe a flip so
she shows her bottom to the wave, when it will go
under you and all will be well.
If any come in and there are likely to be more, lay
to, and one boy (bow) starts bailing. Always have your
paddle tied to the crossbar by about eight feet of
small cotton rope in making a traverse and have the
duffle loose. If swamped or upset, hang to your paddle
and regain the canoe, for it's a drowning matter if
she gets away from you.
In reasonably still waters one boy alone can bail
out an upset canoe. There are two good methods,
rocking it out and shoving it out. In the first, swim
around to the stern of the canoe and get the water
inside rocking from side to side so that it flops out
at each reverse. As soon as enough is out to give her
a few inches of freeboard get aboard over her stern
and dash out the rest with your hands. "Shoving" the
water out also depends on the momentum of a body of
water. Swim astern, and, grasping the stern
breasthook, give her a smart pull towards you. The
water will slop out in a torrent over her bows. Then
shove away from you with all your strength and the
water will come rushing aft and slop out over her
stern. Keep this up until about half emptied, when get
aboard over her stern and dash out the rest with your
hands.
No boy under sixteen years is strong enough to be
successful with either of these methods, but by lying
down in her when she is awash the water can be dashed
out if you are patient and do not try to move about. I
do not believe that a single man or boy can bail out a
swamped canoe in a heavy blow. Stick to her, for she
is your only hope, and get overboard all the heavy
duffle. If the water is not too cold, take time to get
out some twine or fish line and buoymark rifles, axes,
etc., by lowering them to the bottom and tying a
floating duffle bag at the surface anchored by the
gun. This leaves the canoe free; right her and get
into her still awash. Watch your chance to get water
out and do so at every opportunity. Sooner or later
she will drift ashore, and, if you feel yourself
getting numb, rest your head on bow or stern cross
brace and keep quiet. If the water is cold, act
quickly; heave out all duffle, right the canoe, get in
and bail steadily with your hat or any container. You
may beat out the waves, and at least will keep
exercising while you drift to the shore.
But upsets and the like seldom happen more than a
few times in a lifetime with a staunch canoe, most of
which are more able than a rowboat of the same size.
The portage is the surest preventative of disasters,
and how to do it right is worth knowing. Two men, each
carrying an end of a canoe under their arms, will work
much harder than one man alone carrying it properly.
Even carrying it upside down, with an end over each
man's head is preferable, but the time-honored Hudson
Bay method is to lash the paddles to the middle and
forward thwart braces, the blades of the paddles
resting on the middle thwart. Then, when you turn the
canoe over, your head will go between the two paddles
and the blades rest on your shoulders. With a coat or
sweater bunched up on each shoulder you can carry an
ordinary 60-pound canoe with ease while the other boy
packs the duffle. Keep your baggage low in weight if
you are going to have many portages, for double
tripping it means three times the time and work lost.
Suppose you have a two-mile portage from one lake to
the other. With a single trip that is two miles to the
lake, launch the canoe and on your way; with a double
trip you have two miles there loaded, two miles back
empty, and two miles there again loaded-six miles!
Ever hike six miles along a woods trail, with no load
at all? I'd rather do that two miles in one lap if I
had to stop and rest every five minutes!
CANOE SAILING
If one has but a moiety of the real Indian spirit
in him he will have a pronounced aversion to anything
even in a remote degree resembling work. Paddling a
canoe comes under this head; you don't realize this
until once under sail in the same canoe, where she
goes right along like a greased eel with no more
effort on your part than the exercise of a little
skill and judgment. And, if you give her all the sail
power she is really capable of, you will get such
exciting hikes, such breathless speed, such a glory of
existence out of that canoe as you never dreamed
of.
A full-powered sail canoe is in the same class as
regards thrills and sport as a game fish or
carnivorous big game, -- any of these will keep your
hands full mastering their tricks with all the
resourcefulness at your command. Far be it from me to
utter a word counter to the delicious memories of
day-long paddles in the open Indian canoe, down
green-arched rivers, across long whitecapped lakes and
down rushing streams. But I have other memories; of
the open ocean and the green-sedged marsh; of wide
estuaries and hill-rimmed bays, where the decked
canvas canoe, heeled down to the cockpit coaming under
the stress of her great white sails, tore and raced
over and through the long ocean swells, -- when every
black catspaw put you out over the pickle with your
toes hooked under the opposite coaming and that little
witch lay down and shot through the whitecaps like a
flying fish!
And these breathless memories far eclipsed the best
sport that the Indian canoe affords -- taken strictly
and solely as canoeing.
If you have no portaging to do and your river or
chain of lakes affords reasonable searoom, I prefer a
single sail and a pair of leeboards for the open model
canoe. Take along a leg-o'-mutton sail, eight feet
hoist by nine feet along the foot, of American
drilling, hemmed and provided with grommets every foot
along the luff. This takes but little space in your
kit and can be bent to a spruce sapling as a mast with
plenty good enough results. Spread it with a sprit of
light spruce or birch which you can cut in the woods.
She will go right along with such a rig, but will make
leeway like a floating leaf if you have no leeboards.
For canoe voyaging I prefer these of the folding,
collapsible type.
The sail for my
Morris, which I have used for over four years in lake
and bay cruises, has a 2-inch diameter mast, 6 feet 9
inches long; and a lateen rig, 10-foot 2-inch head,
and 11-foot 2-inch foot, with 10-foot 6-inch leach.
The jaw is attached to bring the mast 19 inches from
the fore peak of the sail. The sail is made of light
4-ounce duck canvas and with it she is very fast. The
mast is stepped with a crossbrace, attachable with
brass hooks and wingnuts, and the foot step is screwed
stoutly to three ribs, giving the mast a very slight
rake backwards. The leeboards for this rig are gotten
out of inch spruce and are 30 inches long with a 12 x
20-inch blade. They are secured to stout shoes on the
ends of the cross piece by brass wing nuts passing
through holes in the shank of the leeboards. The cross
piece is 1 x 5 x 38 inches long.
To make your own leeboards
whittle out of clear spruce two blades about the size
and shape of your broad double paddle blade with
square stocks 3 by 7/8-inches.
Get a pair of brass 3-inch hinges and cut a length
of clear spruce 3 by 1 inches, a foot longer than the
canoe is wide. Lay it across the gunwale of your canoe
and mark where the two shanks of the leeboards will
come to fit snug up to the gunwale. Screw on the
hinges, facing inward so that the leeboards will fold
toward each other. The length of the leeboard does not
need to exceed 24 inches, all told, and should fine
off to a thin edge much as does a broad-blade canoe
paddle. Having screwed the hinges fast, erect the two
leeboards so that they stand upright bringing up
hard-and-fast on the ends of their own shanks. They
should then stand a little outward. Get two heavy
brass hooks, such as are used aboard ship for doors
and skylight hatches, and screw the eye of these hooks
onto the back of the paddle, and the shackle of the
book onto your spruce cross-rail, letting the hooks
come over at about 45 degrees and planting them so
that when each hook is snapped into its eye it will
hold its leeboard upright, firm and solid.
To use the board set the cross-rail across the
canoe with the leeboards in the water on each side of
the canoe. The cross-rail is lashed to the cockpit
coaming by a couple of turns of marlin around two
cleats screwed to either side of the coaming inside,
below where the rail will cross, i.e., a little
forward of amidships. Twelve inches wide by 24 inches
long is plenty leeboard enough for an ordinary 16-foot
canoe.
For canvas-decked canoe I have used a number of
different sails, including leg-o'-mutton and lateen,
but have finally come to prefer the Canadian Club
canoe sail, with short stubby mast and long gaff
cocked up almost vertically. This sail has less spar
weight than the lateen, practically the same weight as
the leg-o'-mutton, and has not the bad leach of the
latter, because the batten keeps it flat and well
spread. It is a wonder for quick reefing as one can
lower the gaff, tie the batten to the boom at both
ends and the middle, and hoist away again in less than
three minutes. In making it, avoid too-heavy
spars.
SAIL
PLAN Waterat IV
Click
here for larger image.
For a 12-foot canoe, the boom and gaff of the
mainsail should be six feet long, each of 1-1/4-inch
clear spruce, tapering to 3/4-inch at each end.
Batten, 1-1/4 x 3/8-inch 4 feet 10 inches long and
mainmast 5 feet 6 inches long, of 1-1/2-inch spruce,
tapering to 3/4-inch; material of sail, American
drilling. Mizzen sail boom and gaff 4 feet each, of
1-inch spruce, tapering to 1/2-inch, batten 1 x
3/8-inch 3 feet 6 inches long. Hoist of mainsail, 2
feet 6 inches, of mizzen, 1 foot 6 inches.
You will note from this that only two mast rings
are needed on the mainmast and one on the mizzen.
To cut out sails the easiest scheme is to stake out
the dimensions, either on a lawn or in a large empty
room, and run a string around the stakes or tacks,
giving the outline of the sail. Lay the canvas
parallel to the leach (rear outer edge of sail), and
cut as many gores as will be needed, allowing an inch
of hem. Leave 1-1/2 inches overlap along the line of
the batten, and when the two parts of the sail are
done, turn under and sew the overlap, forming a sort
of pocket 1-1/2-inch wide into which the batten can be
slipped. Along the head, foot, and luff of the sail
will be wanted brass 3/8-inch grommets, which are
little brass eyeholes through which the lashing rope
is run. These grommets space about 9 inches, and are
easily put in by punching a hole in the hem, slipping
in the male half of the grommet, putting on the ring
and turning over with a fid, or, in lieu of any such
nautical implement a large 20-penny wire nail.
To make the spars buy the stock from a
door-and-sash mill in the rough square or rounded if
they keep it. They will rip it off a clear plank for
you for a few cents more than the cost of the plank.
Work the spars round with a jack-plane and a
spokeshave, finish to a nice taper each way from the
middle (except the mast, which tapers from the foot),
sandpaper and varnish with marine spar varnish.
Whittle the jaws for the gaff out of natural bend
maple forks giving them the proper twist so as to
seize the mast when the gaff is cocked up taut. All
the running rigging, lashings, reef points, etc.,
should be of white 1/8-inch cotton rope and the blocks
(pulleys) of 1/8-inch galvanized iron.
The main sheet (rope) is single and is held in the
hand while sailing (it pulls about as hard as a large
dog). The mizzen sheet is made fast on a cleat on the
rear deck after trimming true to the wind. It should
pass through a brass screw eye on the rudder head, so
as to sway clear at each tack. The rudder is best
managed by a yoke on the head of it, with steering
lines running flat over the rear deck and through
screw eyes along the inside of the cockpit. The steer
rope is endless and taut throughout its length. To
steer you can grab it anywhere, and wherever you leave
it the rudder will stay. Most of canoe steering is
done by sails alone. A centerboard can be done without
in a canvas canoe, as the 3-inch fin keel gives her
plenty of grip on the water, but an 8 inch x 36 inch
keel board fastened to the keel with carriage bolts
and ring nuts as described in Part Two, Chapter III,
is a great aid.
A word to the inexperienced as to the value of the
mizzen or dandy. With it a canoe is far safer than
with the mainsail alone, because the tendency of the
dandy is always to shove you up into the wind. The
minute you spill the wind out of the mainsail (too
strong a catspaw) the dandy shoves you safely up into
the wind unless checked by the rudder. Without it the
canoe would simply knock down and probably fall off
the wind, thus filling the mainsail again just when
you don't want it, and, unless you check her
immediately with the rudder, you are in for very
serious trouble indeed. With the dandy astern she will
be much faster, safer and quicker to mind her helm,
and the only reason I do not advocate it for the open
Indian canoe is because of the high curling stern of
the latter.
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© 2002 Craig
O'Donnell, editor &
general factotum.
May not be reproduced without my permission. Go scan
your own damn stuff.
