dylanwinter
Well-Known Member
I occasionally get books sent to me through the post
I am currently reading a great little book called Swin Swale and Swatchway about the Thames Estuary and the Essex Coast written by a bloke called H.Lewis Jones. He sailed his small gaffer all over the East Coast during the late 1890's - but his writing really speaks to me across the years. Like most of us he was an wage slave so he had to grab his sailing at weekends.
He is a witty bloke, loves thin water sailing, has a self deprecating attitude towards his own abilities and made cock-ups in the same places I did. He failed to find the entrance to the Crouch, kept on running aground but that it did not seem to bother him that much.
It is a great little book, one of several I aquired from here
http://www.lodestarbooks.com/?wpsc_product_category=lodestar-library
the books are on lovely paper, have been beautifully proof read and are perfect size for a pocket
if you have an ounce of love for the East Coast then you should try to get hold of a copy
Here he is on catering and a mention of a bloke called Benson - who is one of those locals who looks after his boat when H is away at work. But Benson is not the best yacht keeper in the World.
The Teal is victualled upon unusual, but, we venture to think, highly scientific lines. We both hate cooking, and so provide a large piece of good boiled beef as a piece de resistance; we take lots of oranges and ginger-beer, for their anti-scorbutic qualities, and chutney, which is both condiment and sweetmeat, and then just fill up with some sausages or kippered herrings, and trust to renewals at the ports we may chance to reach; and when opportunity arises we seize it and dine ashore, highly enjoying the return to such a luxury as a clean table-cloth.
Cooking, and, what is worse, washing up of plates and dishes, is the burden which sooner or later wears out the endurance of the amateur crew; they gradually come to shirk the hateful business, and we have at last been forced to adopt a strict rule on the Teal that each shall wash up own plates and mugs and knives and forks, as soon as he has done with them, and to this modus vivendi we manage to adhere.
Cruising on a small boat soon teaches a man what the actual necessities of life, and what are mere luxuries, the latter are quickly discarded if they cost any trouble. Of course, all small-boat sailors are not of one mould. Some, spend their time in holystoning the deck and scraping chain cable, and care but little for sailing. Others, again, use their boat for fishing or for shooting, while others take their pleasure in sailing and making passages, and in getting I air and exercise.
If one lives near the water and has plenty of spare time, it is possible to attend to all the small details of refitting, and to keep the boat very smart, and when we are old, and retire to live quietly in our sea-side cottages, will keep a flagstaff in the front garden, we will do so too; but when one hurries from London to snatch a holiday between Saturday and Monday it is imperative, if one means to go cruising atall to hoist up sail as soon as one gets on board; even then half the holiday is consumed in getting from home, and the other half in getting back again in time to catch one's train. We have, therefore, been forced to leave everything in the way of fitting out to the somewhat casual Benson, although we might find any amount of delight in that side of yachting which includes scraping, varnishing and splicing, if there were time and leisure for it. A Leigh bawley man, who gave us a help into Leigh one evening up the creek, asked us: "Who fits you out? She looks a bit rough." "Why Benson; you know him, don't you "Yes; I thought she looked a bit just his style, with those old lanyards."
H was also a pretty good snapper - managing his gear on the Teal must have beena right bugger
I am currently reading a great little book called Swin Swale and Swatchway about the Thames Estuary and the Essex Coast written by a bloke called H.Lewis Jones. He sailed his small gaffer all over the East Coast during the late 1890's - but his writing really speaks to me across the years. Like most of us he was an wage slave so he had to grab his sailing at weekends.
He is a witty bloke, loves thin water sailing, has a self deprecating attitude towards his own abilities and made cock-ups in the same places I did. He failed to find the entrance to the Crouch, kept on running aground but that it did not seem to bother him that much.
It is a great little book, one of several I aquired from here
http://www.lodestarbooks.com/?wpsc_product_category=lodestar-library
the books are on lovely paper, have been beautifully proof read and are perfect size for a pocket
if you have an ounce of love for the East Coast then you should try to get hold of a copy
Here he is on catering and a mention of a bloke called Benson - who is one of those locals who looks after his boat when H is away at work. But Benson is not the best yacht keeper in the World.
The Teal is victualled upon unusual, but, we venture to think, highly scientific lines. We both hate cooking, and so provide a large piece of good boiled beef as a piece de resistance; we take lots of oranges and ginger-beer, for their anti-scorbutic qualities, and chutney, which is both condiment and sweetmeat, and then just fill up with some sausages or kippered herrings, and trust to renewals at the ports we may chance to reach; and when opportunity arises we seize it and dine ashore, highly enjoying the return to such a luxury as a clean table-cloth.
Cooking, and, what is worse, washing up of plates and dishes, is the burden which sooner or later wears out the endurance of the amateur crew; they gradually come to shirk the hateful business, and we have at last been forced to adopt a strict rule on the Teal that each shall wash up own plates and mugs and knives and forks, as soon as he has done with them, and to this modus vivendi we manage to adhere.
Cruising on a small boat soon teaches a man what the actual necessities of life, and what are mere luxuries, the latter are quickly discarded if they cost any trouble. Of course, all small-boat sailors are not of one mould. Some, spend their time in holystoning the deck and scraping chain cable, and care but little for sailing. Others, again, use their boat for fishing or for shooting, while others take their pleasure in sailing and making passages, and in getting I air and exercise.
If one lives near the water and has plenty of spare time, it is possible to attend to all the small details of refitting, and to keep the boat very smart, and when we are old, and retire to live quietly in our sea-side cottages, will keep a flagstaff in the front garden, we will do so too; but when one hurries from London to snatch a holiday between Saturday and Monday it is imperative, if one means to go cruising atall to hoist up sail as soon as one gets on board; even then half the holiday is consumed in getting from home, and the other half in getting back again in time to catch one's train. We have, therefore, been forced to leave everything in the way of fitting out to the somewhat casual Benson, although we might find any amount of delight in that side of yachting which includes scraping, varnishing and splicing, if there were time and leisure for it. A Leigh bawley man, who gave us a help into Leigh one evening up the creek, asked us: "Who fits you out? She looks a bit rough." "Why Benson; you know him, don't you "Yes; I thought she looked a bit just his style, with those old lanyards."
H was also a pretty good snapper - managing his gear on the Teal must have beena right bugger
