BOSUN’S BAG
PRACTICAL TIPS FOR THE TRADITIONAL BOATERWORDS TOM CUNLIFFE ILLUSTRATION MARTYN MACKRILL
SPREADERS
It’s always interesting to see how older classics have managed the
issue of spreaders in the shrouds. The siting of these changed
radically with the arrival of bermudan rig. Gaffers must have the
full length of the mainsail luff undisturbed by fittings on the
shaft of the mast so that the hoops or lacing holding it to the
spar can travel freely. This means that the hounds must be far
enough up not to interfere. The same, of course, goes for any
spreaders needed to provide athwartships support to the upper
mast.
Along with three-cornered rig came mast tracks and,
ultimately, grooves in metal extrusions. Because the luff could
now slide all the way to the masthead, it became possible to
lower the hounds and add spreaders further down the mast to
help keep the more highly stressed spar in column. Advantage
was swiftly taken and by the 1930s masts looked not dissimilar
to the way they do today. Gaff masts, however, constrained by
luff length, could not alter significantly.
My 1911 pilot cutter came with a set of oak spreaders I still
have in my shed. They angled aft from the hounds so as to offer
some backstaying as well as helping the cap shrouds supply
lateral support to the masthead; they ran parallel to the water.
From forward, they had the mien of a sorrowing pair of eyes
drooping in despair. The pole mast, which was original, had no
topmast and was unambitious in length. I had crossed and
re-crossed the Atlantic with it before I found an old photo of
similar boats in Barry Harbour from around 1905. None of
them had spreaders. Aha, I thought and promptly took them
down. I never looked back. The mast was as stout as ever and I
cruised the boat a further ten years in trouble-free security.
If you have a topmast, you will need spreaders for sure, but if
you don’t, think hard about whether they would have been there
in the boat’s early days. They may have been fitted by well-
meaning yachtsmen who had seen them on other craft and
imagined they would be an improvement. It’s a natural post-
bermudan knee-jerk reaction.
As to the form of spreaders on gaffers, there are as many as
there are boats. Often, a round-section iron bar runs out from
the hounds, mounted on a swivelling bolt with some sort of
fitting at the outboard end to take the shroud. The swivel
manages one of the over-riding problems of gaff rig, which is
that when the boom is squared away enough to take out
weather helm on a run or reach, the gaff is trying to pivot
forward of square. This is bad news, but if the lee spreader can
swing out of the way, it helps a lot.
One form of fixed spreader I admired so much that I copied it
for a new boat of my own is seen on Jolie Brise, the 55-ton Le
Havre pilot cutter-cum racing yacht. Her spreaders are like an
open framework. Each one has two main members running out
from the hounds. At their inboard ends they are as far apart as
the mast’s diameter. They come together outboard and have one
or two crosspieces on the way to support and strengthen them.
In a seaway they are rock solid, giving a skipper a lot of
confidence in his topmast. The space between the members
offers an instant fair lead to some of the halyards and general
cordage running down from aloft, keeping it clear of chafe from
the gaff. Altogether an excellent idea dating perhaps from the
great E G Martin, or possibly even the pilots themselves back in- We may never know, but whoever it was got it right.
Many of us are simply stuck with the spreaders we have.
Often, these work well enough and little can be done to improve
them, but much can be achieved by attending to the slant they
make with the horizontal. To be fully effective, spreaders should
bisect the angle they create in the cap shroud. If rigged correctly
they will therefore sweep up from the hounds to the shroud. By
happy chance, the result is invariably pleasing to the eye.
Spreaders that poke out parallel to the water neither look good,
nor do they function as well as they could. Drooping spreaders
are an abomination, dragging the eye down with them to the
depths of visual degradation.
On a more practical level, wooden spreaders take a major
beating from the sun. Varnish is all fine and dandy for the bits
you can see, but only the seagulls get to admire the top. I always
painted mine white or cream to reflect the heat. Worked like a
charm.
USING UP OLD SAWDUST
Last week, I happened to be at Hunter’s Yard in Ludham on the
Norfolk Broads as the boys were launching off their fleet of
classic charter boats on greasy ways. The yachts are 70-80 years
old and, after a winter refitting inside a dry shed, many are going
to make water for a while. Some do, some don’t, but the chaps
are ready. As soon as a boat is secure alongside, whether she’s
leaking or not, they dig into a large bucket of sawdust and tip it
into the river around her. Then they sink it with a dinghy paddle
and encourage it to drift under the keel. As the seams weep, the
ingress draws the sawdust in with it and it helps the boat take up
more rapidly. The sawdust is so soft that it does no harm at all
as the seam tightens.
In case you are thinking this sounds like an old wives’ tale,
I’ve seen fishermen doing the same thing with sacks of the stuff
in Ramsgate harbour and in the Caribbean too. There’s usually
plenty kicking around in boatyards. So long as you’re not
sinking so fast only the fire brigade will do, why not give it a try?