BOSUN’S BAG
PRACTICAL TIPS FOR THE TRADITIONAL BOATERWORDS TOM CUNLIFFE ORIGINAL DRAWING MARTYN MACKRILLBURGEES
Forty years ago I was fitting out a substantial old cutter in
Cowes. Go back the same time again and you’re in the days
leading up to World War II, which puts the time-span into
perspective. Now, much of the gear we need is available new, at
a price, from classic chandleries. In 1980 nobody was making it,
but well-worn original kit could be found with diligent effort.
Next door to where I was based, at what was once Marvin’s
Yard, a long-departed establishment rambled out into the river
on rickety piers. Here, where the great yachts had once laid up
in serried ranks, anything might be found and many a useful
discovery was trawled from the depths of its sheds. One of these
was a Baby Blake toilet that had either been custom built or
modified to take to the skies in a Sunderland flying boat. To
save weight, many of the bronze parts had been recast in
aluminium and the handles were drilled with large holes. Every
ounce was pared down except, of course, when it came to the
noble ceramic bowl – gentleman’s pattern, not one of those
round ones. No compromise in quality here and it served me
well until the alloy finally succumbed to the inevitable.
I binned it on a tropical island far, far away.
A lone survivor of the wonders rescued in those distant days
had come my way via an auction one Friday night. After some
hot bidding, I took ownership of a burgee stick which I still
have. It must have originated from some grand vessel left there
for the war and never reclaimed after hostilities. Painted black,
the pole is a six-foot length of clear hardwood. The bronze
swivel carrying the flag is beautifully formed and a snug fit for
the stick. It was designed for a serious burgee or a racing
pennant with a hoist of 18 inches. This makes the
metalwork on the big side for my Royal Cruising Club and Old
Gaffers Association burgees (alternated, depending on
circumstances) which only measure about two foot six on the
fly. The stick, however, proved ideal for the old cutter and has
slotted in well on subsequent lesser yachts with taller masts.
After all those years and so many thousands of miles, the pole,
which started out in as-new condition, is now worn by time
and many a masthead sheave, but it still stands proud when
asked. The swivel remains in perfect order. It functions in just
the same way as those cheap little lightweight affairs you can
buy for the dinghy. Made from a single length of bronze rod,
the lower end is bent over at 90 degrees into a circle that fits
around the stick with a fair gap of slack. The rod then proceeds
upwards until it reaches the top. Here, it is bent once again
into a much smaller circle. For total happiness, this second
circle must be centred over the middle of the top of the stick
when the metal upright is parallel with the side. The top of the
woodwork is sawn off flat to form a bearing surface.
The swivel is held in place with a simple, but very specific
arrangement which I have found works well, even on home-
made jobs. A screw-hole is drilled carefully down the centre of
the stick to accept a long, round-headed wood screw. One
washer (originally bronze, now stainless steel) is seated on top of
the stick, below the upper ring of the swivel. A second washer is
slipped onto the screw, which is passed down through the swivel
ring and the lower washer, then driven home just far enough to
leave a gap of perhaps one sixteenth of an inch. This allows full
circular motion for the swivel which turns on the washers with
no wear that I’ve ever been able to measure. In the absence of
bronze, a swivel suitable for a smaller yacht can be knocked up
nowadays out of an extra-strong wire coat hanger. The burgee
itself is secured to the upright by whatever means suits best.
A traditional yacht hoists her burgee with a light halyard to a
sheave set into the truck of the mainmast. This is ideal because
the truck, standing off from the spar as it does, carries the
burgee stick out with it. A sheave screwed into the side of a
modern aluminium mast never works as well.TYING THE KNOT
The two ends of the halyard will have been tied together so it
can’t be lost aloft. It is secured to the stick by passing a pair of
clove hitches made in the bight, ideally with the knot between
the hitches so it can’t foul the sheave. Hoisting a burgee on a
gaffer is often a challenge. If there’s anything that can possibly
foul it on the way up, it will find a way. The task is easier
head-to-wind on a mooring. In a marina berth with the breeze
on the beam it can be a nightmare. Keeping the stick horizontal
is often best. Once it’s mastheaded, I tension the upper part of
the halyard and make it fast. Only then do I set up the lower
part which, of course, flips the stick upright to finish the job.
Sad to relate, after a lifetime of wooden masts with trucks,
my current modern classic has a metal spar and a cluttered
masthead. So far, I have failed to find a way of flying a burgee
among all this nonsense, but I can’t live with myself any
longer. This year I plan to crack it. My old mate the late
Robert St John Riddle would be pleased. When serving with
me in the 1980s, he took responsibility for colours and
brought in the burgee with the ensign every night, re-setting it
at 0800 no matter how hungover we might be. Robert was a
proper sailor who understood that a yacht is the sum of all the
little details her people care about.