Extract from an article written for Small Traditional Sailing Boats:   / 258474342813814  

As I gybed to head downwind there came a loud ‘CRACK’ from somewhere on the mast. “That’s not good!” I said out loud. I hove to, inspected the rig and found a good-sized crack down one side of the yard jaw – not completely through, but enough that I knew it wouldn’t take much more to completely fall apart. I thought about reefing but if the jaw gave way then I might risk tearing the sail. I considered lashing the fractured jaw but, drifting towards a lee shore, I didn’t have time for that.

One of the benefits of the split rig is having extra sail options. This was one of those instances when the yawl proves its worth. I dropped the main completely and continued towards the other boats under jib and jigger alone (a salty term for jib and mizzen). Even without a mains’l, Solid Air didn’t take long to sail back to the fleet a few miles back upstream.

The three boats anchored in a sheltered cove for two hours, waiting patiently for the wind to drop. Which it didn’t. I suggested to the fleet that the larger of the other two boats (a 21 foot trailer sailer with inboard diesel) tow the smaller boat and I would sail to our overnight destination – approx. 7.5nm upwind. If we didn’t leave now then we risked arriving after dark. The idea was agreed upon. I had managed to repair the jaw by securely lashing it to the mast and after putting in the second reef I was confident she would sail this leg flying all three sails again.

Shortly after, we departed. It was slow going, battling against the head wind that refused to ease. I watched the two other boats hug the shoreline as I tacked back and forth across the river – each tack approx. 1nm and perhaps making half that in the direction I needed to travel. The two boats reached the overnight destination at about 5pm. I sailed in only an hour later. The lashing worked and Solid Air arrived with her head held high. Charlotte Cove is a protected and still anchorage, but the silence from the other boats was evidence that they were thinking twice about heading out the next day as the forecast was for much stronger winds.

That night I slept under the stars and tested my new sleeping platform. I didn’t bother setting up the boom tent because I knew it wasn’t going to rain – a bivvy to protect a sleeping bag is a far simpler option when there’s just a light dew. It was a wonderfully clear and still night and I slept like a hibernating bear.

The next morning the fleet checked the weather report and held council. The forecast had gotten worse and the other skippers decided to pull out. The outlook was for 20kts SW in the morning, increasing to 30kts around midday with gusts up to 35 kts. The second part of the trip would be in the lee of the land with winds mostly behind and on the beam for approx. 15nm. I knew this stretch of water well and was fully aware of what these winds would bring. My brief time onboard Solid Air also gave me the confidence that she was a capable and strong boat. I made an educated and calculated decision to continue the cruise to Kettering alone. At 7am I saluted the fleet goodbye and cast off.

Considering the wind strength and not wanting to damage the yard further, I decided to make way under jib and jigger again. The winds were already strong enough to push me along at a steady and safe 5 kts and it didn’t take long for me to round Ninepin Point and start the sail up the D’Entrecasteaux Channel. By mid-morning the wind was in excess of 25 kts gusting to 30 kts. Some gusts were strong enough to knock Solid Air’s gunnel into the salty stuff, but she recovered confidently and rarely needed tiller correction (another yawl benefit is steering by mizzen – see our YT video “How to Sail A Yawl” link below). Westerlies in this area are unpredictably gusty and it’s a good idea to keep an eye out for bullets of wind channelled by the nearby hills. In my less wary days, I was knocked down in my keelboat in this exact area and have since been more alert. Winds at the fortieth parallel can be most unforgiving…even in so-called protected waters.

Despite her handicap, Solid Air arrived at the Kettering Marina in a time that would make much larger boats envious. My calculations showed we travelled approx. 15nm in just under 3 hours that morning. That’s averaging over 5 knots – pretty good considering the sea state and not being able to fly all her sails!

For the next three days Solid Air took part in the Kettering Wooden Boat Rally, including a ‘small boat’ race that she won (despite having three crew and all my cruise gear still onboard!). Made from the modern method of epoxy and ply, she yet blended in with the fleet of traditional boats from yesteryear.