FOREST AND STREAM, 
f Jaw. as, tm- 
the race of the afternoon. Two friends whom \ve met 
pliipped with iis to make up a crew. We took out the 
heaviest nf our cnu"sing dunnage, and had the boat 
measured. Had a fine dinner on shore, and at T :30 made 
sail for the race. A strong southwest wind was blowing, 
so we tied in one reef and Hned up at the start with the 
pick of Chatham's fleet of seventy-five catboats. These 
boats go fishing off the Cape, and the men who sail them 
know what it means to sail for bread and butter and for 
life. Usually starting at 3 to 4 A. M. out of their snug 
harbor, they steer off shore southeast with the prevailing 
summer southwest wind abeam, and run from twenty to 
thirty miles, fish the tide and catch from a few fish to a 
;-oiid boat load, depending on conditions. But mind you, 
when they go out over the bar and steer southeast, they 
leave home behind and have nothing but the ocean and 
Sp^m ahead, and after catching their fish they must sail 
back again. Imagine gptting caught thirtv miles off shore 
m a twenty-five foot boat loaded deep with fish, and your 
only harbor a bit of a hole in the sand one-eighth mile 
A\ide. with the waves breaking ceaselessly on the bar. 
I speak of this that you may appreciate the fact that ve 
Mere up against real sailors that day. Their boats were 
not out and out racers, but neither was mine. They were 
Penobscot River at Sandy Point, Maine. 
clean and slick, and had cross cut sails. The way they 
were handled was ikrfection. 
At I 130 preparatory gun was fired. We start in ten 
minutes. As we ran down for the line before the wind, 
figuring the time down to seconds, three others lined up 
abeam of us and we four crossed with the crack of the 
gun, practically neck and neck. Mblem began to show 
herself immediately, and in the run to the first mark 
opened up several lengths on our friends. We gybed 
around, trimming the sheet as the sail flew over for the 
reach to the next mark; continued to draw away and 
passed the second mark i'/4m. ahead of second boat. Al- 
ways_ holding to windward of the others, we worked back 
to windward, tack for tack, and finished the round slim. 
ahead. We finished the race Sm. 25s. ahead of second 
boat,_and as evidence that we went fast, I will give you 3 
clipping from the Boston Sunday Globe of July 19: 
THE MBLEM A FLYER. 
TWENTY-FIVE FOOT KNOCKABOUT BEATS THE THIRTY-FOOTERS 
IN THE PLEASANT BAY CLUb's REGATTA. 
Cn.ATHAM. July 18. — To-day's Pleasant Bay Club rare 
was sailed twice around a six-mile course in a fresh soulh- 
v/est breeze. 
Interest centered in the phenomenal speed shown by the 
new 25ft. cat knockabout Mblem, built by D. & C. Crosby, 
of Osterville, and owned by George E. Darling, of Provi- 
dence, which on corrected time proved herself faster than 
the large knockabouts. 
The old rivals, Thelma and Selm, had a fine race, the 
former winning decisively, however. 
The sharpie race was_won by A. B. Chase's Gladys, this 
being the first leg of a series of races in the sharpie class 
for a special prize of $25 in gold, in addition to the regu- 
lar club prizes, and for a second prize of half that amount. 
The Florence was second and the Leslie third, there being 
an intense rivalry between these little craft. The 
summary : 
30-ft. Knockabouts. 
Elapsed. Corrected. 
Thelma, G. W. Brown 1 14 01 0 58 08 
Selm, S. W. Winslow 1 14 4.5 0 58 34 
F'lrst Clsss Csts 
Mblem, Geo. E. Darling.: ' 1 16 50 0 57 54 
Winged Arrow, W. H. Rogers... 1 22 15 1 01 33 
Hazel, C. Y. Mayo 1 23 38 1 03 10 
Pearle, T, C. Nickerson 1 24 15 1 03 33 
Second Class Cats. 
lona, L. G. Powers ....1 32 06 1 08 57 
Dolly \ arden, G. A. Griffin 1 33 52 1 08 13 
We tied up at the wharf, and it was a pleasure to see 
the folks who came aboard size Mblem up. I felt that I 
must get back to Providence Sunday night, so at 5 o'clock 
Vv^e ran down the harbor and out over the bar. We had 
a fair tide, and figured that we could get to Cottage City 
by 10 o'clock, and while the weather was not all that 
could be desired, none of the Cape Cod people seemed to 
think that bad weather was coming. We found a strong 
breeze outside and put in three reefs, but a half hour later 
it dropped to almost a flat calm, and- We shook out the- 
reefs and drifted down the Monomoy shore. At abOtit 
8:30 the breeze freshened, and we were able to make very 
good headway. Passed the Point at nine and: followed the 
ship channel for Cottage City. About g :45 it began to 
rain and grew very dark, and shortly after an ugly puff of 
wind from the southeast made me wish we were back at 
Chatham. We immediately put in two reefs, and so&n 
found that we had all the sail we could handle, so rather 
than run any risks, pulled down again and put in the 
other two reefs. The weather was growing worse, and 
in another half hour we were driving before the wind 
with ali we could smother to,, arid it took careful handling 
to keep the bpom clear of the seas, though we had ft 
t6"p'^)ed up high in the air. The southwester of the after* 
noon had left quite a chop, and the wind we now had was 
rapidly stirring up a wbrSe one. By 10 :30 it was a h"6wl- 
inl |a!e, att^ vtffe l9>|v-er^^ and lasj^<e4 the ja^i gd.il 
to the boom, lowered the peak part way, pulled the boom 
in and lashed it solid in the crotch, and with ju.st the 
peak of the sail showing, made great headway. The wind 
continued to gain strength, and between the spray she 
was throwing and the_ rain, it seemed as though the sail 
was full of water at times. It finally became so bad we 
had to take in what little sail we had up. At that time 
we were within three miles of Cross Rip light vessel. We 
tried to hold our course for Cottage City under bare pole, 
but found it impossible, and it was now a case of anchor 
and ride it out, or drift across the sound and go ashore 
somewhere in the neighborhood of Succonesset, which 
would have meant disaster to all concerned, as the seas 
by this time were running very high. We got out a new 
warp 300 feet long with a 28-pound fisherman's anchor 
that I bought on Cape Cod, and after running off clear of 
the ship channel, sounding as we went along, dropped 
the anchor in about 40 feet of water and threw all the 
rope after it, being careful that there were no kinks or 
twists in it. This gave the anchor a chance to get well 
settled on the bottom before the boat brought up on it, 
and when she did it was a great relief to feel it hold and 
swing her into the wind. About the first sea she jumped 
over, however, whipped the warp out of the chock and 
it came down across the port chain plate. It took all my 
strength to pull it away far enough to get the calf of my 
leg in between so it would not cut off. Then we put rope 
chafing gear everywhere it touched the boat forward. 
Next thing to look after was the mast, for she was jump- 
ing about in a terrible way. We put both back stays on, 
and pulled top lifts and halyards as tight as we could. 
Even then it seemed as though she would either pitch it 
out of her or split her bows open. The tide turned to the 
eastward about midnight, and while it was bad enough 
before, the tide running against the wind caused a fearful 
mixup of a sea. Our good little ship was leaping and 
rolling and squirming out through and over the waves 
in a wonderful way. Occasionally the top of a comber 
would come over her bow and make a clean sweep over 
the cabin into the cockpit. Then as she went down be- 
tween the seas the tide would throw her around sideways 
to the wind, though we had the centerboard pulled way 
up and tiller hard a starboard. Occasionally a breaker 
would catch her broadside, and when they did salt water 
was about the only thing in sight. I examined the chafing 
ge^r every little while, and about midnight found that it 
would not hold much longer, so after thoroughly greasing 
the warp, bound a large flat pillow stuffed with cotton 
around it and lashed it down to her bow. This made a 
fine shield for the rope and held until morning, though 
there wasn't much left of the pillow by that time. Such 
a night I hope never to pass again. Between the rain 
and the spray the air seemed full of water. It was im- 
possible to look the wind in the face, for it would cut like 
hail. I realized that the anchor warp was our main hope, 
and examined the chafing gear every little while all night. 
Before morning it seemed quite a task to go forward. 
Incidentally I took several dives through the seas that 
came over her bow, while I hung on for dear life. Cape 
Cod people told me that the, anchor I had would "ride my 
boat to the bottom," and at times I almost expected it 
would. It was a great relief about 3:30 to see that it 
was growing lighter, though the wind was howling as 
industriously as ever, but as daylight came on it gradually 
lessened in force. By 5 o'clock we were feeling quite 
comfortable, though a squall about that time swept the 
tops off the waves as it went driving past, a sight I will 
Mblem at her moorings, Pawtuxet Cove, R. I. 
never forget, though it did not feel as bad as the squalls 
we had pas.sed through during the darkness of the night. 
A tear in the leach of the sail showed that we carried sail 
the night before up to the last minute. It was a wonder 
that it had not ripped clean across with the start it had. 
About 6:30 things had quieted down so we were able to 
get under way, though "tall water" was yet very much in 
evidence. By taking in on the anchor warp as she went 
into the trough of the seas and holding fast as she rose 
over them, we were able to get it after a long pull. When 
we took the anchor aboard we found the stock bent, and 
the shank that had been buried in the sand polished as 
though it had been filed. We kept our four reefs in and 
started for Cottage City, but by 8 o'clock it came in thick 
fog and the wind changed to southwest, so we made a 
course for Wood's Hole instead, and tied up at the fish 
commission wharf about 11. Quite a number of seamen 
from various crafts looked us over, and when informed 
where we spent the night wondered that we ever lived 
through it. The wind had held a velocity of about 60 
miles an hour from il tiir4, and shipping of all kinds was 
in trouble. One four-master loSt her sails off Nantucket; 
another two-master was dismasted off the Cape; the New 
York y. C. had a mixup in New London Harboi;; the 
Soimd steamers were delayed, etc. Cape Cod residents 
and Hf e-saving men expreksed wonder that we were alive'; 
and later sent me word that never before, to their knowl- 
edge, had. a boat of Mbleni's size lived thrqugh such a gal«» 
Mblem went through this blow without leaking, or ap- 
arently straining any part of her, and all her rigging 
eld hard and fast. The way in which the paint was 
scoured off her deck and the front of the cabin trunk, 
however, was good evidence of what she had been 
through. Among other things, I learned one lesson, never 
go on a long cruise with the idea that you must get back 
at any stated time. When night time finds you in a safe 
harbor, stay there, especially in Cape Cod waters, as har- 
bors are few and not of the best. 
July 20. — Monday morning with a light southerly wind 
we made sail for Pawtuxet. The tide had just turned 
north through Wood's Hole, so we ran into Buzzard's 
Bay. It was noon before we passed Sakonnet, and as 
we had a fair wind up the river it was very nice sailing 
with the spinnaker set, and our rough experience seemed 
like a bad dream. We had figured on reaching the bridges 
at Tiverton earlier, and when we did arrive there the tide 
had turiied. It took all the power there was in the sail, 
in addition to our strength, pushing against the piers to 
get the boat through the draw. We succeeded, however, 
and a freshening breeze enabled us to make our mooring 
at Pawtuxet shortly after 6 o'clock. 
Such a cruise as we enjoyed will always live in my 
memory as both a delightful and awful experience. Never 
Owl's Head, Maine. 
again would I from choice ride out a 60-mile-an-hour 
southeaster on Nantucket Shoals. The good little ship 
that carried us safely through it all is not for sale; she 
has earned a place as "one of the family." 
The following copy of a letter which I received from 
a friend in Chatham who was for several years a sea cap- 
tain and could appreciate what we went through that 
night, may prove interesting in connection with my story. 
"Chatham, July 22, 1903.— ilfr. Geo. Darling: Dear 
Friend — I want to congratulate you on your miraculous 
voyage from this place on the night of the i8th inst., for 
it seems to me nothing short of a miracle that any cat- 
boat could live on such a night in Nantucket Sound, for 
although she may be staunch and seaworthy, under ordi- 
nary circumstances, yet must she have been a mere cockle 
shell tossed, tumbled, and driven at God's mercy that 
night. She must have been an extraordinary boat, and 
an extraordinary boat handled with extraordinary con- 
summate skill, to have weathered such a storm as that was. 
Your boat must certainly be a wonder, and all hats off 
to any man who could keep a catboat alive in such a gale 
among the dangers of Monomoy and Nantucket Sound. 
I got up at midnight and could sleep no more, for it 
seemed to me that you must surely be going to your doom. 
I told Mrs. N. that the only chance for you was that you 
had been able to weather Monomoy before dark and get 
into Hyannis before the storm came on. I called Mono- 
moy Life Saving Station next morning and they said 'No 
boat passed Point Rip before dark,' and Hyannis said 
there was no boat answering your description there. I 
tell you it looked like rather a hard show for Mblem. 
As I came up the street that was choked with trees and 
limbs that the gale had rooted up and broken, I said 'Poor 
old George, I don't know.' There must have been a little 
fellow sitting up aloft that looks after the sailor. 
"Hoping that you may take many more cruises in the 
Mblem (but none like that), I am, 
"Yours, 
"Oscar C. Nickerson." 
English Letter. 
The prospects of class racing for the coming season are 
by no means brilliant, especially as regards the biggt-r 
vessels. A few months ago there were clearly defined 
rumors of a revival of the too long extinct 65ft. class, 
but prospective owners have cooled in their ardor since 
the fall of last year, and little is now heard of the much 
talked of addition of two or three _ vessels to the 65- 
footer which has been lying half finished on the stocks 
at Fairlie for the Messrs. Connell for more than a 
year. As regards the first class racing, that appears to 
have utterly died out, nor is it likely to be revived uiiti! 
something definite has been done to provide effective 
restrictions as to scantling, and thus give a death blow to 
the extreme lightness of construction which has prevailed 
for the past decade, and which, though reflecting the 
highest possible credit on designers and builders, has 
proved one of the most fatal drawbacks to the populari' y 
of the modern racer. As Mr. C. E. Nicholson, one of our 
foremost designers, pointed out in a letter to the Field, 
written some two months ago, people will not build in the 
big class because they see no prospect of disposing of 
their vessels at a reasonable price after their racing career 
is over. The extreme lightness of construction which, 
in default of proper scantling restrictions, has been 
brought to a fine art at the expense of strength and 
seaworthiness, makes it impossible for ex-raters to take 
their natural, place among the handicap contingent, and 
continue, racing in that class for years as in the old days:, 
for the '(veakness of construction soon begin.s to tell, and 
constant patching up is required to keep them in a habit- 
able condition. Leaky decks and topsides are by no 
means an unmixed blessing; the result is that many ex- 
laters wW.chi '^'Qtjl,^ hs^'^k M4 a long «j.4. l?>(J90ra'^ls ^aft^ 
