nor do we intend to recommend any particular kind of craft. Let every man prefer his own-schooner or yawl, or cutter, lugger, una, or wherry, for many boats there be, all are good of their class. Not that we have no choice, on the contrary, very much so. To our mind, there is nothing so handy as a cutter, or rather a modification of the cutter. For small boats, the balanced lug-sail with a jib is the perfection of rig; they are very fast, stand well up to the wind, and if provided with centre-board and water-ways are as safe and handy as possible. It is curious how antiquity is re-vindicating itself. The first sail of primitive mankind was evidently that simple device a mat hung on to a pole, stuck up on a raft or log. It was soon found that this would work better if stretched out; so came the yard. In the natural desire to get back to where they started from, it was found necessary to bring the log on the wind. By dipping the yard at one end, the sail stood nearly fore and aft; hence came the lateen sail, the favourite sail of the Mediterranean, and the lateen sail is the sail out of which all fore-and-aft-rigged craft have cut their sails. But this is a digression. It is odd how coasting along induces digression, for to enjoy sailing one must have plenty of time, and never really wish to get anywhere in particular. Such people as are bound by a dinner hour on shore should never go sailing, steam yachts are the machines for them. If one never wants to go anywhere in particular, one is perfectly certain to get somewhere. Hence comes the great delight and fascination of sailing such as we recommend. + Without laying down the law as to what rig and size is bestfor are we not mindful of the proverb, De gustibus non est disputandum-all we do assume, is that the boat be sufficiently large to be capable of sleeping in comfortably, and so arranged that all the requirements of living can be gratified for at least a week, without the necessity of depending upon other resources than those carried on board. In this way we are under obligations to no man, can disregard punctuality, can be independent of hotels, lodgings, shops, and all that renders life commonplace and servile; we are monarchs of all we survey, and owe allegiance to none but the weather. One other caution, always work the tides. It is well to know our masters; once we really know them we can take liberties, but never let us attempt to do this unless we are quite sure of our ground. That song of Dibdin's very well conveys the true spirit of a sailor-amateur or professional : For the sailor's the man for all weathers, Great guns! let it blow high or low; And where the wind drives we must go. Or else if we don't want to go, and have sailed into a snug berth, we can just remain at anchor, and do any odd job we have put by for a quiet day, and there are many such. Ropeends want whipping, sheets and halyards want overhauling, the cabin wants tidying. There are a thousand-and-one things that want doing if it is always fine weather, and so the bad comes just at a seasonable time to give us a chance of keeping things straight. There are numerous wise saws about the weather, and how to tell it. For our part we have come to the conclusion that the weather-glass and the sky are the best aids for forecasting the future. The weather-glass, by itself, we have known at fault, and the sky by itself has often misled us, but the two together, either corroborating or correcting, have seldom put us far wrong. It is generally a wise precaution not to go outside when in a snug berth if the weather looks at all doubtful. Should our day's run be fifty miles before we make our port, we had far better stay where we are and explore a little, than run the risk of having to make a strange harbour with a high sea and strong wind bothering us as we try to get into it. As regards the tides they are a real blessing, providing we know how to use them and are not irrational beings. People accustomed to steam, or novices in the art of sea-sailing, are very apt to despise these potent forces. But just try beating to windward with a weather tide, and try the same thing with a lee-going tide, and see where we are at the end of six hours in each case. Let us carefully work the tides. They are constant, they are forcible, they are docile, if only we will take the trouble to understand them. attention to this matter. importance of tides even not those who navigate As we proceed we will give more It is astonishing how careless of the the masters of coasting vessels are the Thames, or “Lunnon river," but those who lounge about the coasts. It comes from the same lazy recklessness that causes so many vessels to be run down. We will assert that those who start half-an-hour before their tide are those who will prove the best amateur sailors. One half-hour's start may make seven hours' difference at the finish. To thoroughly obtain the full pleasure of this kind of cruising it is most important that the places for anchoring at night be handy, well-sheltered, and quiet. When settled for the night, let us consult the chart, the tide, and the weather. If we make up our minds for a long run next day, we must see that we are early risers, and form our conclusions of what the day is likely to be from the early morning sky, and compare our impressions with the glass. It will be our object to offer a choice of harbour when possible, and we propose to arrange the trips that they may form tours on the principle of ordinary guide books, only that the cruiser has the great advantage over the tourist, the cyclist, or the pedestrian-he is independent of all hotels, and carries all his comforts with him. He has the constant luxury of a well-ordered home, an ample wardrobe, a well-stocked table, a cosy bed. Unlike the traveller in caravans, he has no cattle to look after, no prying villagers to distract him, no petty annoyances to put up with. Free and untrammelled as the winds, reckless as a viking, adventurous as a Columbus, he roams wherever the wind and his fancy lead him, with the carelessness of a vagabond and the home comforts of domestic life A veritable nomad of the summer sea. Without wishing to lay down the law too much, we still think that perhaps a few hints, the result of our own experience, may be useful on the subject of the equipment of the vessel. Old hands know well enough the great importance of having just the right sort of things, always at hand, easy to stow, and not too numerous. We don't ourselves profess to be sybarites, and the picnicing element has always had great charms for us in the cruises we have taken. However, comfort and cleanliness need not be eschewed even in a small boat, and in one of the size we recommend everything that is comfortable, if not precisely elegant, can easily be indulged in. Let us, then, assume that we are the possessors, if not the actual owners, the tenants of a boat, of, say, some 35ft. over all, 1oft. beam, and head room in our cabin of from 5ft. 6in. to 6ft. If our craft is one that draws 6ft. of water, this is, of course, fairly easy to obtain, and yet to keep the symmetry of a smart yacht. But we prefer a vessel that only draws from 4ft. to 4ft. 6in. depth of water, and in this case a centre-board is almost a necessity. At least if we have one, our craft will stand stiffer and go to windward faster. There is also a very great advantage possessed by a boat of small draught of water. She can get out of the way of the other craft when moored for the night, and possessing greater beam there are few objections to grounding on the soft mud when the tide falls. Not that one would naturally anchor where the boat would be left high and dry; but if there are no reasons why an early start should be made the next day, and we are going out on the ebb, a berth ashore has at least the merit of absolute safety, provided we are in a well-sheltered place. We do not recommend this; but, at least, no harm is done if our vessel is beamy. Of course many delightful trips can be made in boats half the size of the kind indicated above. We have simply chosen an average size for the work we are going to describe, where the maximum of comfort is attained with the minimum of toil and risk. We also strongly recommend the mast being set in a tabernacle, as then there are no obstacles to our cruising to Paris or even Henley for the regatta week, if we wish to follow the fashion. With a boat of this size and construction we can get about anywhere, although the deck appearance is not such as would satisfy a yachtsman's eye, for the shallow draught of course necessitates what is called an omnibus or “booby" deck, that is, the cabin's roof projects above the deck about 11⁄2ft., leaving waterways all round, which are convenient for getting about on. Against this ugly appearance the counterbalancing advantages are great. In the first place, our cabins are always fresh and well ventilated. We can see all round us without having to go out in the wet if it is raining, and we derive the entire benefit of our whole beam. In fact, we are no worse off than we should be ashore during bad weather; we are neither stifled nor cramped; we can read, write, paint, work, and look out of window exactly as if we were in our room at home, and, naturally, for we are at home, and everybody agrees there is no place like home. Of course it is to be understood that in such a boat there are two good cabins, a cockpit as well, and a very good forepeak for the paid hand, if we must have one, which also makes an excellent and roomy kitchen. For ourselves, we very much dislike being crowded on board, and this leads us to the subject of the crew. A crew of two or three hands could, as we have suggested, manage very well and quite comfortably such a craft. If the vessel is much shorter than 35ft., the head room in the cabin has to be curtailed if the vessel is to be at all comely, and this necessitates a stooping posture when standing. However, many and many a delightful cruise we have had in our little cutter, which only measured 26ft. over all, and where the height of the cabin was only 4ft. 6in. We have lived on her for six weeks together, but then it must be confessed one's back does get a little stiff. So we have suggested a craft where every comfort can be indulged in. Of course, it is taken for granted that at least one among the party knows what he is about. Although we learnt our own sailing experiences entirely by ourselves, and among the rather uncomfortable rocks and tides on the edge of the Atlantic, near Ushant, we do not wish to have the responsibility of recommending this course to others. But no doubt, as in all other sports and pastimes, there is nothing like leaving the novice to learn from his own mistakes. It is to reduce these mistakes to a minimum and also to render the |