. 
560 
FOREST AND STREAM. 

A Vacation Cruise. 
BY WILLIAM KUHNLE. 
BEFORE entering upon the account of the trip 
allow me to introduce you to the boat in which 
it was made, and to the crew. 
The sloop, Nellie, is an oak-built, 13-ton boat, 
of a type, although not modern, is to be found 
wherever rough weather is to be encountered, 
and is usually termed a spoon-sheer boat. Her 
length on deck was 46ft., with a breadth of 14ft. 
6in. Originally she was a center-boarder, but 
the trunk had been removed and the keel 
dropped down to meet a 3-ton, cast-iron shoe, 
another three tons of ballast being placed inside 
between the frames. This permitted lofty spars, 
the truck of the topmast being 73ft. above the 
deck, while the draft was 7ft. 6in. The lower 
mast was a fine stick of Oregon pine, with a 
beautiful straight grain and but very few knots. 
The standing rigging was all of steel wire, with 
preventer back stays for both lower and top- 
mast. The ground tackle consisted of two I50- 
pound bower anchors, one on a chain, the other 
on a hawser, the ends of each leading in from 
the hawse-pipe over the windlass-drum and down 
to their respective lockers in the peak. A spare 
stream anchor and line for the same was also 
kept where it could be easily reached. A taft. 
cedar dinghy was swung from davits, which 
could be shifted from one side to the other. 
Below we find a large airy cabin with wide 
cushion-covered transoms along each side cap- 
able of sleeping six people quite comfortably, 
while in the two quarter bunks under the cock- 
pit a couple more could be berthed if necessary, 
mattresses being used instead of the cushions, 
as in the cabin. Clothes lockers occupied every 
spare nook and corner and proved very con- 
venient. The galley was separated from the 
cabin by a thwartship bulkhead and, for a boat 
of her size, was very roomy; plenty of head- 
room and a hatch just over the center of it 
added greatly to the ventilation. 
A “Hydro-Carbon” oil stove was securely 
fastened on a raised platform in the forward 
part of the galley, the platform and surrounding 
wood work being covered with zinc to guard 
against fire. Lockers for crockery and cooking 
utensils were ranged along the side; and at the 
passage leading into the cabin an_ ice-box, 
capable of holding 100 pounds of ice, was built, 
the drain running into the bilge. Here was 
also the water faucet connected by pipe to the 
tank, in the stern, capable of holding 125 gallons 
of water. A folding table occupied the center 
of the cabin, and when not in use could be 
folded into a very small space. 
Now for the crew, which consisted of one 
young man who had never been aboard a sail- 
ing craft of any kind in his life, two whose sea- 
faring experience was limited to a 2oft. cat- 
boat, and the writer, a schoolship St. Mary’s 
graduate, with experience subsequent on deep 
water and the Sound. Whatever may have been 
lacking in knowledge by the three former, it 
was more than overcome by their agility and 
willingness to perform any duty demanded of 
them; 
“know-it-all” ever could possess. 
Stores for the trip and blankets having been 
previously shipped to the yard in which Nellie 
spent the winter, the four of us tramped into 
that place heavily loaded with grips, cameras, 
etc., late in the afternoon of June 30, 1903, only 
to find that our early start the next morning 
as we had planned was impossible, owing to the 
fact that the boat was not in the water, nor 
would she go overboard until the next after- 
noon’s high water. This disappointment was 
soon lost sight of, however, in the bustle which 
followed. Old clothes quickly displaced our 
street clothes, and it was not long before every- 
thing was carefully packed in the lockers, stores 
put away and then the cabin was scrubbed out. 
The cushions and mattresses were taken on deck 
and given a good beating and brushing; and by 
9:30 every one felt as if they deserved a little 
sleep. 
July 1.—The ever-unwelcome ringing of the 
alarm-clock at 6 o’clock awoke every one with 
a start, and after a plunge off the marine rail- 
traits which are far better than the erring . 
way, breakfast was prepared and the dishes 
cleared away. At breakfast we decided to divide 
into two parties; one to clean up the galley and 
cabin, the other to attend to matters on deck. 
Having only chartered the boat, we were of 
course somewhat careful in our examination of 
the sails and rigging, all of which were found to 
be in first-class condition, although we rove 
off lanyards in the after legs of the shrouds, 
not deeming it wise to depend entirely on the 
looks of the old ones. As there were only two 
of us on this work, we used the throat halliards 
for setting them up, my partner taking the haul- 
ing part to the windlass, which stretched the 
shrouds like fiddle- strings. I attended to the 
seizing as each turn was hauled taut, taking care 
not to leave the slightest amount of slack any- 
where, as we knew they would certainly stretch 
more as soon as the sail was set. At about 
4 o’clock in the afternoon we were floated and, 
hoisting the jib, ran off shore a short distance 
and anchored with the small stream anchor, 
while I satisfied myself that there were no 
leaks of any sort, and that the sanitary pump 
worked all right. Meanwhile, the rest had 
hoisted and griped the boat and set the main- 
sail, so that at 4:40 the anchor was aweigh and 
the cruise, which we had planned for a year, was 
begun. The wind was fresh from the S.W., and 
we ran down through Hart’s Island Roads to 
the end of Hart’s Island and headed for Execu- 
tion Light, which we passed in a little less than 
an hour. Having decided to make Oyster Bay 
that night if possible, I set a course to clear 
Oak Neck buoy; but as the wind was gradually 
decreasing, it was 8:15 before it was reached. A 
line drawn on a chart from the light on Cap- 
tain’s Island and to the light at the entrance of 
Cold Spring Harbor will pass very close to this 
buoy, and as there is a red sector in the light 
at the harbor’s mouth, covering the shoal water 
off the neck, when the red turns to white, then 
is it safe to enter from the west; whereas, if 
approaching from the east, one does not see the 
red until one has passed to the west. At half 
past nine we anchored in the entrance of the 
harbor, being careful to avoid the channel, with 
the lighthouse bearing W. by S., % mile. The 
lead showing 5 fathoms, we made fast to 20 
fathoms of chain, slightly short of regulations, 
but enough to hold for one night in a sheltered 
spot. Furling all sail and seeing that every- 
thing was secure, we turned in, sore all over 
from the unusual work. 
July 2—Being desirous of making an early 
start, in order to get as much benefit from the 
ebbing tide as possible, we were all up at 6 
o’clock. We waited, however, until after break- 
fast before getting under way; those not en- 
gaged getting breakfast were scrubbing decks 
and loosing sail. At 8:30 the anchor was under 
the bows, and, hoisting the jib, we filled away 
on the port tack. For a short distance we ran 
close-hauled, in order to avoid a number of 
oyster stakes. After clearing these, the boom 
was eased off a bit and we made a broad reach 
for the bell buoy off Lloyd’s Neck, our gentle 
W. wind shifting to S.W. and increasing. I set 
the course E. % S. for Old Field Point, and after 
all the gear was straightened out, proceeded to 
instructed the crew as to their station for reef- 
ing, handling head-sheets in tacking and duties 
in case of a man overboard. Having had these 
drills so thoroughly impressed upon me on the 
St. Mary, I rarely go sailing without instructing 
those on board in at least one of them, even if 
they are novices. 
We passed Eaton’s Neck Light at 10 o’clock, 
and by noon we were abeam of Old Field, and 
trimming sheets a bit, reached over for the 
breakwaters at the entrance of Port Jefferson 
Harbor, Flattening everything down and haul- 
ing up close to the wind, we entered the channel, 
which is very narrow and difficult to navigate 
when close-hauled, but fortunately the flood tide 
was running and this swept us through in quick 
time, the entire entrance being but a quarter 
of a mile long from buoy to buoy. A good 
plan entering with a deep boat is to keep as 
near on the line between the two buoys as 
possible, keeping the lead going constantly. 
Once inside there is plenty of water, and we 
[APRIL 7, 1906. 


were soon selecting a spot to anchor, letting 
go the anchor about an eighth of a mile off the 
steamboat dock, a little to the E. of the same to 
keep out of way of the steamboats. 
The lead showing mud-clay bottom at 3 
fathoms, I gave her 15 fathoms of chain, and 
then furled sail very carefully, as we used no 
sail covers. Two of us scrubbed off the out- 
side of the boat, while the others coiled down 
the gear and cleared up decks. We spent the 
evening ashore, visiting and sight-seeing, Port 
Jefferson being a very pretty little town, almost 
entirely devoted to yachting interests and ship- 
building. 
July 3.—As we did not intend to get under 
way, it was 7:30 before any of us awoke, and 
after 9 before breakfast was cleared away. The 
sun shone so hot that we decided to take all the 
cushions and mattresses on deck for a sun-bath, 
the blankets being aired every morning im- 
mediately after turning out. In the afternoon 
we had several visitors and returned their visit 
in the evening. 
July 4——The mosquitoes having annoyed us 
quite a little during the night, it was nearly 
8 o’clock when I called all hands. While break- 
fast was being prepared, two of us rowed over 
to the dock to see if we could get water, meet- 
ing there a former ship-mate of mine, who was 
to command a yacht being built at one of the 
yards. Hearing what I had come ashore for, he 
very kindly volunteered to come out with his 
power tender and tow us alongside of the dock, 
coming back when the tank was full and towing 
us out to our anchorage. In the afternoon we 
dressed ship and took a party of friends out for 
a sail about the harbor and to watch the dory 
races—a sort of an annual event here. The 
evening was again spent ashore, although we 
returned earlier than usual, owing to the 
mosquitoes. On going aboard we found that 
instead of dodging the pests we had run into 
a swarm of them, which had taken possession 
of the cabin in our absence. By lighting several 
smudges and liberal applications of oil of penny- 
royal, we were able to get to sleep by 1 o’clock. 
July 5.—It was nearly 8 o’clock before any of 
us stirred from our bunks, the enemy having 
played havoc with us several times during the 
night. After a good swim, which preceded 
breakfast almost every morning, we all felt 
better, taking but a light breakfast of coffee and 
rolls, as we had no hard work on for the day 
beyond washing decks and shining brass. Not 
caring to be troubled with the work connected 
with preparing a Sunday dinner, we went ashore 
and took dinner at a hotel, getting more than 
we could eat, which is saying a good deal, for 
our appetites were assuming mammoth propor- 
tions at a very reasonable figure. After a short 
walk through the town and a visit to the apothe- 
cary’s for more mosquito exterminator we re- 
turned on board, all hands turning in for a nap 
when the pests were not around. After supper 
we took every precaution to avoid being disturbed 
as we were on the previous night, and we were 
to a limited extent successful, as we were only 
awakened once or twice by our enemies. 
July 6.—Going on deck at 6 A, M. I found it 
raining hard with the wind from the S.E. As 
there were chances of clearing, however, I called 
the rest and sent two hands ashore for stores, 
etc., while we two: got breakfast. At 8 o’clock 
the rain stopped and the wind shifted to W.S.W. 
The mainsail was immediately hoisted in order 
that it might dry before we got underway, which 
we did at 10 o’clock, going through the entrance 
on the last of the ebb tide with a fine breeze from 
the S.W. We did not run due E. immediately 
but steered so as to pass to the N. of Mt. Misery 
Shoals buoy, as there are several 7ft. spots on 
the shoals at low water. Passing the buoy I de- 
cided to head for Faulkner’s Island and run E. 
along the Connecticut shore, keeping my position 
in hand by bearings and cross-bearings at all 
times. Faulkner’s Island was abeam to the N. 
at 4 P.M. At 5 o’clock the wind was falling so 
rapidly that we decided to run in shore and 
anchor. We let go our anchor in 4% fathoms of 
water off Hammonassett Beach, near Madison, 
Conn. This place, though not much frequented 
by yachts, affords an excellent anchorage in an 
