Showing posts with label sailing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sailing. Show all posts

Tuesday, 4 June 2024

Sail GP in Halifax

Sail GP showed up in Canada for the first time with the Rockwool Canada Sail Grand Prix in Halifax on June 1st and 2nd, 2024. I managed to watch the racing and one of the practice rounds, and my photos are here:

https://smcclearn.smugmug.com/Nautical/Sail-GP-in-Halifax-May-2024


Team Canada making a close pass to the crowd on the waterfront. 


Saturday, 11 May 2019

HMCS ORIOLE

Based in Halifax since 2017 after a long stint on the West Coast, HMCS ORIOLE first arrived in time for Tall Ships 2019. She underwent a refit in Lunenburg over the winter of 2017/2018, and then did a Great Lakes tour in 2018, and I believe is due for another in 2019. ORIOLE is the oldest RCN vessel in commission.

After an event at the Royal Nova Scotian Yacht Squadron on Saturday, ORIOLE sailed past HMCS VILLE DE QUEBEC during the Battle of the Atlantic service on Sunday, May 5.






Although initially under sail flying her spinnaker, possibly with wind filtered down through the northwest arm, light wind caused the spinnaker to collapse several times and she gave up on sail and reverted to engine power. Without her sails up, she rolled a fair bit in the swell to which both ships were presenting their beam.











Hopefully I will manage to catch her properly under sail before she heads to the Great Lakes.

Wednesday, 25 July 2018

Relaunching Amasonia

Growing up, I spent many summers at the family cottage on the LaHave River below Bridgewater. Apart from my Dad's boat sitting out front, I could gaze upon the boats across the river including an offshore racer or two. Of particular interest were two schooners: Skylark designed and built by David Stevens, and Amasonia - a Tancook schooner. Skylark was renamed Sarah Abbot, and now calls Maryland home. Amasonia stayed closer to home, is still based here in Nova Scotia, and was relaunched this week after a restoration.

Amasonia was built in, and launched from, Big Tancook Island in 1935 by Howard and Tom Mason. A brief history appears on the Nova Scotia Schooner Association website, which I won't repeat here. She has had her share of adventures, including one previous major rebuild in 1963, and was due for another refit. Her owner since 1989, Lorne Leahey, took her to Bill Lutwick at Lutwick's Boat Building and Repair in Indian Point, near Mahone Bay, for some TLC. I only heard a few weeks ago that she was being restored, and dropped by the boat shop last week to see what progress was being made - I arrived just in time, as she was ready to return to the water within the week.

For those interested, there is a book on the Tancook schooners, called - you guessed it - The Tancook Schooners.  

The fine lines of Amasonia.

The interior of Lutwick's Boat Building and Repair.
I asked if I could be notified when she was ready to launch, and Lorne was kind enough to oblige. I was (just) able to make it down in time to see her come off her cradle earlier this week.

Amasonia still sitting on her keel in the cradle.

Still in her cradle.

Amasonia wasn't alone - there were a few other schooners present.

One of the spectators was Wawaloon - another Tancook-built schooner.
A number of years ago, I had an apartment overlooking the narrows of Halifax Harbour, right across from the shipyard. I remember seeing Wawaloon sailing up the harbour on a somewhat blustery day in 2007, and watching her respond to the wind.

Wawaloon making her way up the harbour.

Wawaloon heeling over after catching a gust.
High tide was scheduled for 1700h, but Amasonia wasn't quite ready to budge, so she received some help backing out of her cradle.

Spectators haul on Amasonia's lines to coax her from her cradle.

Efforts to haul her out were successful, and Amasonia was returned to her native element.




Amasonia is framed by another wooden boat in her cradle.


Amasonia's pleased-looking owner, Lorne Leahey, with Bill Lutwick standing behind.

Someone did the math, and there is a combined 252 years of Nova Scotia schooner history in this photo, with (from left to right) Wawaloon (built 1946), Pegasus (1971), Amasonia (1935), and Mary David (1968).

Amasonia is riding a bit high in the water at the moment, as she still needs to have her masts fitted and fuel tanks filled, among other things.
Bill has worked on many boats, and one of his recent projects - an International One Design (IOD) named Ghost - was sitting out front of the shop.

Ghost.
Bill is also working on a boat that is near and dear to my own heart - an International 18 One Design by the name of Bratt. My father owned her from 1966 to 1973, and she will be a sight to behold when completed. But that is a subject for another blog post.

Back in 2009, a sailing trip from LaHave to Chester provided a couple of chance encounters relevant to this post. First of all, off Indian Point and Bill's shop, we encountered one of his Robin L 24s (or RL24), a 24-foot adaptation of a Tancook Sloop.

An RL24 sailing off Indian Point, with the red shed of Lutwick Boat Building and Repair in the background.

RL24.

RL24.
We also encountered Amasonia herself off the shore of Nova Scotia. She's so pretty that I just had to go back and edit a few more photos just for this blog post.

Amasonia sailing along on what I assume is a beam reach.





Amasonia sails off towards the horizon.
With any luck, I will be able to catch Amasonia under sail once more this summer when she is rigged.


Monday, 18 September 2017

Sailing in Hebridee II

When done well, museums bring history to life for visitors. Working museums, such as the various working farm museums, sawmills, and blacksmith shops around the province, add live action and interactive elements, where action replace the words on an information plaque. My interests in boats and boat building aside, the opportunity to not only see a traditional Nova Scotian boat being built (or in this case rebuilt), but to actually see the end product sailing around the harbour - and if you're really lucky, to be able to join the boat for a sail - is a real privilege.

Hebridee II heading out into Halifax Harbour under sail.
I'm been following the progress of reconstructing the schooner Hebridee II at the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic on the Halifax waterfront for some time, and she has been the subject of this blog before:

Reconstruction of schooner Hebridee II


In addition, all of these photos, and more, can be found in my Hebridee II gallery on Smugmug.

After the rechristening and relaunching, I was told by builder Eamonn Doorly that I should invite myself out for a sail at some point. It took me a while to find the time, but with the hurricane and boat hauling seasons upon us, I decided to take him up on the offer. I was instructed to meet up on the waterfront next to her berth at noon on Friday. We left the wharf in calm conditions under the power of Hebridee's electric motor, and went looking for some wind, which we found beyond George's Island. 

It was a four cruise ship day in Halifax. 
After raising the sails, the electric motor was shut down, and off we sailed. The wind started out light, but gained strength throughout the afternoon, and of course gave us some of our most exciting moments just before we were due to lower the sails. 

Soon after we put up the sails, we crossed wakes with the auto carrier Guangzhou Highway - and what a wake it was!

Approaching Guangzhou Highway.
The auto carrier had just pulled out of the Autoport in Eastern Passage, and was making a hard turn to port in order to round McNab's Island and head out to sea again. 

A rare view of an auto carrier (for me, anyway) taken low to the water and with nothing but the ocean's horizon beyond.

Guangzhou Highway's hard turn to port left significant turbulence in her wake.

Hebridee II crossing the boundary of Guangzhou Highway's wake and the tail eddies left by her propeller wash.
At this point, we temporarily lost steerage in all the turbulence, and marveled at the effects of the prop wash on the surface of the harbour. Small whirlpools passed along our port site.

A small whirlpool from the ship's prop wash.
Eamonn made his crew work for our passage, and our participation made the sail that much more enjoyable. Under his watchful eye, we took turns on the helm, raising and lowering sails, and trimming sheets. I managed two turns on the helm myself, and probably had a stupid grin on my face the entire time.

Looking up a schooner's vast mainsail - the boom often overhangs the transom, and requires running backstays to keep the rig from falling forward when going downwind. Unlike the single backstay that I am used to on my boat, running backstays need to be reset after each tack or gybe. The "BJ" at the top of the sail stands for "Bluenose Junior", the name bestowed to Hebridee's class by her designer, William J. Roué. Sailboats usually carry letters or a symbol indicating their class on the mainsail.
Schooners are known for being reluctant to tack (some more than others), and Hebridee is no exception (though this may have been exacerbated by her inexperienced crew). I am used to a smaller sloop rigged boat that is fitted with a tiller and a fin keel, and she turns on the proverbial dime. Hebridee, on the other hand, has a full keel and her rudder is turned with a wheel - the former kills more momentum when she turns, and the latter takes longer to shift the rudder hard over. One trick is to allow the jib to backwind during every tack before hauling in the jib sheet on the new tack, to allow the wind to bring the boat onto the new course quicker - but we were not always effective in doing so, and sometimes Hebridee's bow would take a while to fall off onto her new course. The light winds probably didn't help in this respect.

Eamonn Doorly adjusts the foresail sheet. Sheets are the ropes that pull sails in and out, and they often (as seen here) use blocks to gain a mechanical advantage to make it easier to pull the sail in against the force of the wind. In Hebridee's case, the blocks are from the original schooner and were refurbished for use on the new.
Speaking of the helm, the helmsman (or helmswoman) sits on a seat on top of the worm gear that the wheel is attached to. The wheel itself turns in the opposite direction of where you want the boat to go, which takes some getting used to for anyone who is used to driving a car or, for that matter, boats where the wheel operates normally. I eventually got used to it to a certain extent, but continued to second guess myself everytime I turned the wheel, and made a few mistakes. I did not offer to bring Hebridee alongside the floats at the end of the sail.

The view from the helm, with two of my fellow crew, Aaron and Ray.
When not under sail, Hebridee is powered by an electric motor and a battery. This makes her very quiet under power, and simplifies a number of aspects in her operation and design. No longer does she carry flammable diesel fuel, and the blower normally required to remove explosive fumes from the bilge of vessels powered by internal combustion engines isn't present. The "throttle" for the motor is a simple dial located by the helmsman's right ankle, and one turns it forward to go forward, back to go aft, and it is merely turned to the neutral position when under sail. Power is instantly available when needed by turning the dial in the desired direction. The endurance of Hebridee's batteries isn't known at this point, but Eamonn says he has run the engine for 5 hours and only run down the battery by 10% (although he suspects when the batteries do drop off, they will do it quickly).

Mainsail and boom.
On our way back downwind, we managed to get the fore and main sails "wing on wing" - the foresail was on the port side, and the main was on the starboard. I didn't even know this had a name until that moment.

Sailing "wing on wing". 

A good view of the cockpit from dead aft, with the helmsman at the bottom of the image. We were still "wing on wing" at this point.
I spent some of my time lying flat on my back up at the bow, under the jib, to get some shots of the rig set against the sky. I find this often makes for good photo composition, and I love the curve of the while sails set against the blue sky.

Halifax, and George's Island, make an appearance in the bottom of this image taken as we headed out the harbour. One of the halyards is tied off on the port shroud.

The sails on my boat feed into a track in the aluminum mast. On Hebridee, a rope spirals up the foremast to attach the luff of the sail to the mast. 

The curve of the jib mirrors that of the foresail.

As with the leech of the sail to the mast, the foot of the foresail is attached to the boom with a spiraled rope. The leech and foot of the mainsail, on the other hand, are attached to clips that run in tracks in the mast and boom respectively.

Another shot showing the different attachment methods used for the different sails.


Hebridee II's restoration isn't quite finished, and Eamonn expects to work on her this winter. The turnbuckles that connect the shrouds to the chain plates, for instance, are from the original schooner and grey paint is covering up their true age. She also requires some modern electronics to allow her to sail farther afield than just afternoon sails in Halifax Harbour, and Eamonn hopes to sail her down the South Shore for Chester Race Week and schooner races in 2018.

Hebridee employs polypropylene rope that has been treated to look like traditional hemp rope.
All in all, it was a very enjoyable sail. As Friday afternoons go, I've had much worse.