CLASSIC BOAT JANUARY 2018 43
BOSUN’S BAG
CHRISTMAS TIPS FOR THE TRADITIONAL BOATERWORDS TOM CUNLIFFE ORIGINAL DRAWING MARTYN MACKRILL
If you were watching Poldark last summer you’d have been
gratified to note that, in his day, everyone seemed to light their
homesteads with honest candles. I expect the rank and file had
to settle for tallow while the quality bought beeswax – and
hang the expense – but whatever brand they were using, they
beat the stuffing out of the oil lamps up-country in Downton
Abbey. The glass chimneys in that noble mansion were foul
with soot every time. Western movies are as bad. When the
villain tosses the lamp onto the handy pile of straw to
incinerate his victims in their humble cabin, you can be sure the
glass is as black as his hat. I’ll bet they were just as awful in the
dear old Onedin Line all those years ago. The BBC seems to
imagine that’s how they are, but the ancient skipper Mr Baines
could have told them a different story. Anyone who looked
that much like Captain Birdseye would have known from
boyhood how to treat an oil lamp.
I doubt there’s a decent classic boat or yacht left without at
least a nominal oil lamp in the saloon. If there’s a full
complement, her crew are well on their way to Christmas on
board without using any power at all. What a fine aspiration
that is! Production yacht owners haven’t a hope, but there’s no
reason why we operators of real craft shouldn’t experience this
unique pleasure, given the proper gear.
BRIGHT OIL LAMP
The secret of bright oil lamps doesn’t lie in paying a fortune for
so-called lamp oil. Honest garden-shed paraffin is just as good, if
not better. Happiness begins with a well-trimmed wick. I turn
mine up high, then clip it straight across with sharp scissors.
Next, I wind it back carefully, checking for a square cut across
the burner in the ‘lit’ position. If one side is high, it’s cranked
back out again and re-cut for a spot-on finish. A trim like this
will last a surprising length of time so long as you don’t allow
the lamp to burn dry too often.
The next job is to clean the glass chimney until it shines.
Washing-up liquid and warm water is fine. If the inside is in a
sorry mess, a handy brush is called for. You can buy these new if
your bank account is ready for blood-letting, but my boat is
always well stocked with knackered toothbrushes which are just
as good. A soft-bristled Oral B past its first flush of youth is the
skipper’s choice. You can even pick a favourite colour. Dry the
glass thoroughly. If you light up wet, it will probably crack.
Now comes the critical lighting process. As the chimney
heats, the flame will grow taller, so care is needed. I turn up
the wick with the glass off, light it, then wind it down hard so
there’s just enough showing to let the flame work its way
right across. The chimney is now replaced. As it warms up,
the burn can be carefully increased until the glass is too hot to
touch. At last you can set the flame, which should be a pale
yellow. If it smokes at all, turn it down until it just stops and
you’ll have a sparkling chimney all night long. My boat has
Danish lamps from Calibra. So long as I look after the wicks,
weeks can pass until I grope once more under the sink for the
Wild Green Fairy bottle.CABIN HEAT
That’s the illumination sorted. Now, what about beating the
cold? Remember we’re not using any electricity, so that deals
out blown-air systems. And a good thing too. Nasty, noisy
things. Drip-feed diesel is OK, but it’s hard to beat a solid fuel
stove for atmosphere and good, thick heat. Fire was one of the
first things that set us apart from the beasts of the field. A man
needs to build one every so often to keep his humours
balanced. Lighting my cabin stove is a delight every time,
unless I’m close-hauled on the starboard tack, when it is
guaranteed to blow back and fill the saloon with smoke until
the chimney hits critical temperature.
If you have a problem with smoky start-ups, sticking your
blow torch up the chimney before lighting is a popular answer
among experienced firemen. The hot flue sucks the smoke away
as soon as you approach the stove with a match. If you aren’t on
a power-blackout Christmas, the wife’s hair dryer will produce
an equally pleasing result.
I keep my anthracite nuts in crisp zip-up bags bought from
the old-fashioned hardware store in Romsey for a quid each.
They only last a year or so, but they are effective. They mean
zero mess except for a bit of ash dust for the hand-brush at
clean-out time, and if you keep the kettle on top, you’ve hot
water on tap as well.ROAST TURKEY
As for the cooker to roast the turkey, it’s a while since I was
skipper of Jolie Brise, when she still enjoyed a coal-fired galley
stove. The range kept the ship warm and dry, but it had
downsides, including a long wait for a cup of tea if the cook
forgot to riddle it, and getting shot of the daily galvanised bucket
of ashes. Most of us now cook on safe, clean gas, so there’s no
amps squandered there. The paraffin stove can also do the
business, but most examples struggle to accommodate the bird.
So there we have it. Christmas Eve without power. Silence at
0100 as we sit in awe, hearing only the faint rustle of the wicks
burning and a soft clink as a coal falls in the grate, waiting for
the flooding tide of Christmas morning, and God with us.