The Emerald could do nothing with us at this game, much to the chagrin of her noble owner; so she was obliged to in trysail and set her mainsail, whilst we hove-to and waited for her. But even after her mainsail was set we had the advantage of her.
She was a regular racer—long, lean, and deep in the water; whilst we floated entirely upon the surface, the tubes being exactly half submerged, as we noticed when we first started. The consequence was that we skimmed along like a feather, whilst the Emerald had to displace many tons of water with every foot of progress which she made.
We passed through the opening in the magnificent breakwater which shelters the roadstead at Portland, and soon afterwards began to feel the heave of the Channel. Our tube-boat rushed along over the crests of the waves with a very easy and steady motion, but the Emerald started rolling; and as we drew farther off the land, and got more into the influence of the rough water, this rolling motion became so violent that her boom had to be topped up pretty high to prevent it from dipping and dragging in the water every time she rolled to leeward.
Bob sat watching her attentively for some time, and at length—
“Aren’t this here Emerald the little eight-tonner as took so many prizes last year in the regattas?” said he.
I replied that she was.
“Well,” said he, “we beat her all to nothing in a calm, or next door to it, last night in the Lily, and I’m thinking we could run her under water in a breeze like this here, with such a jump of a sea as we shall get when we rounds to on our road back. What’s your idee, my lad?”
“I think we could,” replied I. “She is so long and narrow that she must be a regular wet one close-hauled, as I expect we shall see shortly. If I remember rightly, all her prizes were won in light winds or smooth water; and though I do not believe we could do anything with her in a staggering whole-sail breeze in smooth water, I fancy we could give a good account of her in a Channel match. But you must bear in mind, Bob, that the Lily is the larger craft of the two.”
“That I deny,” retorted Bob. “Heavier we may be as to tonnage, accordin’ to the way tonnage is measured; but she’s got double our power. I’ll bet my ’lowance of grog for the next month to come that she’s got good seven ton or more of lead stowed away under her cabin floor; whilst we’ve got two, besides the trifle in our keel; and power, as you know well, Harry, is what tells in a breeze. Take us all round, and, in spite of our difference of tonnage, I reckon we’re pretty much of a size, and consequently a very fair match, so far as that goes. I should like to be alongside of her in the Lily in such a breeze and such water as this.”
By this time we were close to the light-ship, still leading, and in another minute we shot under her stern and hauled up on the port tack. We now felt the full strength of the breeze, and I was somewhat alarmed to find how fresh it was blowing. But we were as stiff as a house, and could have carried half as much sail again, had there been more to set. We lowered our centre-board just before hauling up, and now we found ourselves tearing along in a manner which perfectly astounded me.
Our long, slender, pointed tubes appeared to offer no resistance whatever to our passage through the water. The motion was delightfully easy and gentle, the tubes piercing the body of each wave, as it rolled towards us, without the slightest shock, and lifting us gently and easily over the cap of it just as it seemed upon the point of coming in upon our deck. There was not an atom of spray; we were as dry going to windward as when running free.
With the Emerald it was very different. Her huge mainsail was almost too much for her now that she was hauled close upon a wind; and as we looked astern, we could see her taking plunge after plunge, and sending her sharp bows clear through the seas at every dive, until her jib and foresail were wet half way up to their heads, whilst her lee-rail was completely buried in the boiling surge.
Now that we were close-hauled, the Emerald walked up to us, though by no means so rapidly as might have been expected. There was no comparison between the powers of the two craft, yet, though we certainly dropped to leeward a little more than she did, it was only a little; and the difference in our speeds was very trifling, considering the great difference in size between the cutter and ourselves.
About a quarter of an hour after we rounded the light-ship, the Emerald passed us close to windward. She presented a most beautiful sight, at least to a nautical eye, as she swept by. She was heeling over to such an extent that the water was up over her deck, on the lee side, nearly to the skylights and companion; and her immense sails were driving her so irresistibly through the short, jumping seas, that she had no time to rise to each as she met it. Her bowsprit plunged deeply into the advancing wave, her sharp bows cleft it asunder, and then, as they rose through it, amidst a blinding shower of spray, the water shipped forward, rushed foaming aft and to leeward like a swollen mountain torrent, until it mingled with the water which flooded her decks to leeward.
As soon as she was past us, her crew hauled down a couple of reefs in her mainsail, and set a smaller jib. This, of course, relieved her very materially, and, if anything, rather increased than diminished her speed, as she kept sailing round and round us with ease, until we were well over towards Weymouth Roads once more, and it had become perfectly evident that we needed no looking after.
As soon as he was quite satisfied of this, Lord—made the best of his way to the anchorage, and brought up, having had such a dusting as ought to have satisfied him for some time to come.
As for Bob and myself, we were as pleased with our novel boat as it was possible to be. She proved to be a perfect success in every way; and when we took the tubes to pieces to stow them away, we found that, so accurately had the joints been made, that not a drop of water had penetrated to the interior of either.
One alteration, however, we resolved to make, and that was in the size of the sails. The boat was stiff enough to carry much larger sails than we had provided for her; and as we did not know but that a time might come when speed would be a matter of the most vital importance to us, we determined to furnish her with sails as large as it was prudent to carry.
We also decided to alter her rig somewhat, by substituting what is known among the initiated as a “sliding gunter” for a gaff-mainsail. This gives you a mainsail and jib-headed topsail in one, whilst it does away with the gaff altogether, whereby you obtain a much flatter standing sail; indeed, when this sail is properly cut (and it is not a difficult sail to shape), there is nothing to beat it in this respect.
Accordingly, we despatched an order to Lapthorn that night for the new suit of sails, and also for a balloon-topsail for the Water Lily, the dimensions of which satisfied even Bob, greedy as he was for canvas.
Meantime, the remainder of our stores were ordered, received, and shipped, and ten days after our arrival in Weymouth Roads we had everything on board which we could think of as necessary or likely to be in any degree useful to us on our voyage.
But when all was shipped, we found we had made a mistake somewhere in our calculations, and not only had rather more room than we expected, but our little craft still floated rather higher than her regular load-line. We therefore took in half a ton more lead ballast, which brought her down to within an inch of her proper trim, and with that we determined to rest satisfied.
Volume One—Chapter Five.
A Gale in the Bay of Biscay.
On