Ghost Skegs rebuild

I am rebuilding the 'Ghost Skegs' on The Flying Crutchman.

Having a fiddle.

The delight is that I'm doing this with... (would you believe?) crutches. This would mean that all builds on the craft are resourced from second hand crutches: the mast step, the mast cradle and now the rear skegs.

Thus the name...really suits.

Mind you, I'm still 'having a fiddle'. I'm engineering the rebuild as I go -- deploying what I know works and rejecting any doubtful elements.

While not evident from the illustration, once I've trimmed back the stems I'll have the choice of a few ratchet positions  on which I can locate the skegs as they fall  to the rear. That way I hope to adjust how far they will be apart for different sailing or paddling conditions. I also will be able to slide the whole frame to the left or right if I want -- say, when I'm tacking over along distance.

The other big advantage is that the whole rig  can be disassembled for easy portage. Setup will be a few ratchet ties and twists of a couple of stretch cord.

Thats' the big picture anyway, the plan.

That I tie the kit and caboodle onto the craft -- lash it on --  is a product of how I see traditional sailing vessels which were usually lashed together. Not only did these craft sail before the wind, but  all the rigging moved. That's why they creaked. I want that flexibility because I'm sailing on plastic without nails and only a few screws to hold the rigging onboard.

Even my sail is tied on and I've not had a moment's problem with the join despite the force of the wind.

The Flying Crutchman 

Adventure Comic Book

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Ghost Skegs on The Flying Crutchman

You'd think I'd leave well enough alone.

If you recall, I'd installed a pair of what I now call Ghost Skegs behind my craft to facilitate tracking.

They work.

I've since discovered that by moving the a skeg closer to (medially) or further away (laterally) from the hull I can manipulate navigational forces.

This tweaked with me after considering Kula Canoes from the Tobriand Islands. 

I asked myself,"what does an outrigger do besides preventing the boat from capsizing?"

My Ghost Skegs aren't outriggers. I suspect that generally I won't need outriggers as I have a catamaran type hull -- but they do serve as rear outriggers in a fashion as unlike normal skegs or keels they float on the surface of the water outside the hull.

A Chine Runner

I asked about this on the Canoe sailing egoup and I was  given a reference to Chine Runners (pictured right). 

Chine Runners are used on microcruisers  for stability under sail.

But that's not my skegs.  

If you consider the Kula Canoes -- aside from one guy at back having an easy time of it  steering-- all the paddlers dip their oars on the same side.

How is that possible without the boat going around in circles? Surely one steering oar at back isn't enough to prevent this?

Well, I'll tell you, because I discovered the exact same relationship: the medial paddling force on one side runs counter to the tracking force of the outrigger . One pushes the craft to the left the other pushes the craft to the right.

Neat, eh?

Single outriggers are usually sailed to  windward on a craft for that reason. They not only prevent the boat from tipping when under sail -- as they serve as a counterbalancing weight -- but they also tend to steer the craft -- the bow -- into the wind.The wind on the other hand, will attempt to turn the stern into the wind and the bow away from it: ie: steer the boat to leeward.

That's why a single outrigger  and a canoe's hull aren't balanced -- unlike a catamaran. (Other factors in the mix is the one  weight of the sailors and their gear).

Aside from being a snippet of nautical knowledge the contemporary relevance is that I have discovered that by moving my Ghost Skegs about -- by sliding them left and right toward or away from the hull and then locking them into place, I can replicate a similar effect. 

This is handy because

• I  need paddle only on one side to hold a course.
• I can tack and still hold a course without having to compensate for the force of the wind pushing me to leeward.

On The Flying Crutchman, I've worked the balance effect with these skegs by moving them inches medially/ laterally.

Today, as an experiment, with the sail up in maybe a 10 knot wind I moved the windward  skeg further away from the hull and gave the boat a shove in the direction of a tack -- at right angles to the wind. The craft kept to a straight line without any need of intervention on my part (especially as I wasn't even on board!) In case you find that a tad confusing the contradiction is that my  kayak, like most of their species,  is designed to turn into the wind and my skegs don't run along side the hull like an outrigger. They're at the back. 


This irony is fascinating. Since tweaking my back end with these Ghost Skegs tracking is so easy on the Flying Crutchman. I can go for significant distances without needing to dip in the paddle to maintain a course. When the wind is up, I will be able to compensate for its lateral force, if I want, by moving these skegs about.

So as soon as I got back home I pulled apart my Ghost Skeg frame and rebuilt it...out of crutches (of course)! The new fit should enable me to quickly slide the skegs closer to and farther away from the hull. Since they are attached to one another -- moving one closer, moves the other farther away.

I can't wait to get back in the water for more trials.

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Sailing rig and energy options

Why can't I leave well enough alone? [He says.]

I was out today in a brisk 13-15 knots, skirting the shoals northwards when I began to ponder the prospect that I may be complicating my sailing.

In today's conditions I had to 'trim' my sail by raising the bottom arm up to reduce the sail area. The irony was that the Flying Crutchman sailed better with the reduction in sail area. So I

thought that maybe I should consider reducing the forces bearing down on the craft rather than tweaking the craft to tolerate them?

If I made another sail more like a crab claw sail  I could work through other options where design rather than sail area rules my motion forward.

With a trimmed design -- like in the image, left -- I'd get better vision side to side, reduce my tracking pressures and improve my maneuverability at a price of harvesting less of the wind. 

I know that the trim  works because I have already trimmed to good effect while out and about. To be closer to a crab claw I should run my mast more sharply into the vertical but if I did that I'm asking to tip over as my centre of effort will be way forward.

Another option  is to shorten my mast to reduce the corner angle  that mast and spar are the same length -- which is currently not the case.

Afterward: This is what I did. I cut back the mast and the sail to replicate a crab claw.

So that's two options....

Poling and Towing

Today's log:[SAILING + PADDLING + DRAGGING] Phew! Wind up and I sail long ways. Wind drops and is agin me so I make do. A bit of time on the waters seeking a cold bum.

Methinks that not only could I trim my sail a bit but I should also consider canoe poling rather than paddling. The conditions suit poling as the bay I navigate is so shallow and I rarely get to greater than a metre under neath. And each time I'm out I run over shoals and often have to use my paddle to pole me off. The only complication is that poling should be done while standing and with a sailing rig in place the deck is a bit crowded... But it is possible that on a stubby little craft like mine when the wind ain't there poling may get me from A to B with less effort than paddling from a seated position. Also with the sail rig dropped to the deck I can't sit  but could stand by straddling the hardware. Poling is the tradition rather than double blade paddling in most shallow water regions of the world like mine...that and a flat bottom canoe such as a Bateau and a Pirogue.

As it is I have learnt to appreciate the ease with which I can 'barge' my craft -- usually against the wind. I call it 'barging' but what I mean is I tow the beast by dragging a line over my shoulder with it skimming behind me like a well behaved pet dog. It is effortless. So methinks it is a viable and respected canoeing option that suits  the design.  At low tide  I can walk for kilometres in ankle deep water with my craft in tow and cover the distance much quicker than if I was paddling or trying to tack against the wind. 

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The ship sails away (would you believe?)

Indeedee do it does! What with the rotten weather I hadn't been afloat to test my latest rigging concoction for the Flying Crutchman -- but today with  a weak breeze to harness I disembarked from my usual launching place.

Then sailed up and down the coast   in the face of a very weak onshore north easterly.  Maybe blowing under 3 knots.  I sailed north and south then north and south again.

Patrolling.

Seven kilometres to the south east a squadron of yachts very much larger than mine -- were caught in the lee off Scarborough. So I got to compare my craft's performance with their's. And I was doing OK. 

They just sat there conferencing while I scooted parallel to the coast. Every time I looked, despite their full sail, they weren't going anywhere.

Sailing north I had to use a bit of paddle steering and pulling forth  against the wind. The  conditions were pushing the bow inshore and I can see why  canoe sailers need leeboards to hold a course. Using the paddle  wasn't strenuous and the now-and-then dips moved me forward at a comfortable speed so that I was sailing and paddling better than if I was doing one or t'other by itself. The sail harnesses energy to drive the craft forward even when sailing against the wind.

I look up and wonder: how is it doing that?

When sailing back south I could have stretched out for a snooze as the craft steered itself and held a steady straight course without any blade work required at all. I thought I'd approach a flock of pelicans two kilometres away but the birds were denied my presence this time as the wind dropped further and a calm set in.

Skill up 

With my present rig I need to master a paddling technique that takes best advantage of the various forces in play.  Single blade paddling is way different from the standard double blade work normally done by alternating pulls each side of a  kayak. With the wind moving you forward the paddle dips are more about counter balancing the beast against the wind and waves in a forward preference. 

To state the obvious, you pick a feature on the horizon in the direction of travel and hold that course.

Would a rudder be preferable? Not with only one pair of hands it wouldn't. Using a rudder and paddling is a huge ask. But I gotta get myself a paddle leash as without my trusty blade I'd be lost at sea. I made myself a make-do one today which worked fine but while I can do a better home made job of it, I'm thinking that since mine is single blade I may invest the $25 and get myself a leash that has a very firm hold on my paddle and has concertina/stretch  cord.

Since the rig 'works' I guess I better (finally) prep and paint the wood I've used -- the cannibalized crutches -- as everything was thrown together temporarily while I fiddled with the design.  

Finally (!!!)  I have  resolved the main  challenges and have myself a sailing rig that works. How about that?

An inch here or there  matters  and moving my rear steering blades closer to -- or further away from -- the hull  may be warranted. But the addition of noodle floats seems to offer better lateral resistance in the face of a cross breeze than  if the paddles were allowed to set their own depth (I know this because I  sailed today with and without this added floatation and 'with' is better.)

I'm thinking of adding a seat of sorts so that my bum if off the deck. With sit-on-tops you paddle/sail while in a sort of bathtub at low tide and while I'm not complaining about the ergonomics  -- I sail semi recumbent  now with my back resting on a stowage barrel -- I'd like to be a free of the waters but not too high in the saddle that I cannot easily see under the sail to the leeward.So while I don't need back support, I'd like something nice under my buttocks.

A kids car booster seat perhaps?

The Day After: Another day on the waters. Same route. Wind fresher (by very little) but still inconveniently from the east and onshore. The craft sails akin to its performance the day before. I'm learning to sail with paddle and such to better effect as I merge with the forces that are upon me and begin to take their measure. While the wind was maybe blowing at 4-5 knots, my section of Moreton Bay is its widest east to west so the waves get traction ahead of the breeze. So that I may have a breeze but more chop than what the yachts get in the lee of Moreton Island which is the preferred sailing habitat  in this northern section of Moreton Bay. The game for them is launch on the Redcliffe Peninsula and head off to Moreton Island  as a sailing option. But for me my sailing speed is handicapped by the waves'  resistance when I'm sailing against them. So I guess I'm gonna have to lean some useful tacking maneuvers in order to improve my journey speed A to B. With much stronger winds forecast for tomorrow -- and from the south west --  maybe some buzz can be had afloat? It will give me a chance to really test the rig.

Sailing in today's conditions may  have been slow but the casual nature of the breeze made for contemplative instruction in way of DIY. A paddle dip here and there; consideration of what course to follow; navigating between the shoals....I'm learning. 

Go to: The Flying Crutchman -- biography in pictures.

                             

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The Flying Crutchman yearns

Swab the decks, touch wood and plastic -- now that my craft actually sails in its  fashion I can  get down to detailing the fun I hope to have with it. And this map

 -- see above image (click on image to enlarge view) . The location mapped is the northern reaches of Moreton Bay, Queensland, sub tropical Australia --

explains my yearning.

It's da plan.

I've always wanted to navigate north and enter Pumicestone Passage -- the narrow channel that separates Bribie Island from the mainland. Bordered by national park, mangroves and with many inlets and tidal wetlands, the passage is the ecological jewel of the northern reaches of Moreton Bay.

Gazetted in 1986, Pumicestone Passage Marine Park, extends from the southern entrance to the Caloundra bar and is just over 35 kilometres long via the channels and has a surface area of 63 km². The marine park has 24 islands and is bounded by 240 kilometres of shoreline. Eighty percent of the Passage is under two metres deep and dugongs frequent its waters seasonally to feed on the seagrass on the bottom of the channels in the passage. Dolphins and turtles also make the Passage home as do over 350 species of birds. Habitats within and adjoining the passage include mangroves and saltmarshes, sand flats and mud flats, coastal dunes and seagrass meadows.

Once the passage is entered, to the north are two quaint little villages -- Toorbul (where kangaroos  run freely through the real estate) and Donnybrook. Donnybrook is approximately 24 km away from my launch site -- which is 800 metres from my front door. I can camp at Donnybrook or Toorbul  if I want at each township's caravan park or  go bush along the shore line. 

At issue: sand flies. But a small single person tent(and insect repellent) would suit me for the sleepover. My craft can carry up to 130 kgm of load so I can gear up enough for a few days afloat.

Paddling my canoe I'd never be able to make the distance in any comfort as the craft was such a hard pull through the water over distance. So my forays north have been less than 10 km along the coast.

But sailing -- and sailing was invented as a way to get some thing else to do all the work -- I can play at being Captain Cook.

That's the aim anyway. 

But first I need to play around with my rigging and train myself in using it to best effect by sailing north and back over shorter distances: to Sandstone Point being my initial focus. 

Of course if all goes well then Pumicestone Passage becomes my every other day sailing playground and hypothetically I could also sail along Red Beach (on Bribie's southern shore) when conditions are favorable. But the currents and rips  between  Skirmish Point  and Moreton Island 16 km to the east  are not to be engaged with in a wee-craft like mine. 

I'll leave those conditions at the entrance to Moreton Bay  to the dolphin pods.

But as yearnings go: my big one is to see dugongs in my travels...and preferably not bull sharks (the party pooper of shallow water recreation -- and I'm a shallow water habitee).

Point Gallagher looking toward Glass House Mtns
across PumiceStone Passage.

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The Flying Crutchman uses its noodle

In line with my earlier musing on the matter to hand, I have added a swim noodle to the stern 'steerage' on my sailing canoe/kayak/paddleski -- The Flying Crutchman.

This means that the paddle blades will trail higher in the water and 'may' offer some lateral support -- like an outrigger -- during wind gusts. I'm not sure where the tipping axis of the craft is located but I suspect it is further back than I originally thought especially now that I prefer to sail with a crab claw type sail elevated above the deck.

This design has not, as yet, been water tested. So don't try this at home unless under adult supervision.

It always seem to me that the design brief I'm after is to create a phantom craft longer than the one I have as 'length' offers better tracking in the water. This is why almost all sailing canoes are at least 12 feet (3.65 metres)  long. Mine is short and stubby at  2.4 metres.  So with the bits hanging off the back I gain almost another 0.75 metres in full hypothetical stretch without adding extra hull weight.

The good news is that by holding the end tip of either blade in a horizontal position in line with the stern I can turn the craft any which way with a twist of my fingers.Such is its  response on dry land while on its carry cart. On the water before a wind....well,who knows?  But that's  what the ocean is designed for: knowledge.

For the newly arrived, here is a recap:

The Flying Crutchman -- biography in pictures

I've been fiddling with my 2.4 metre/7.8 feet long kayak trying to convert it to sailing. I gave up the project for a time not because I couldn't rig an effective sail but I had steering problems. Being so short of course was a major handicap.

My 'kayak' has a twin hull and is quite beamy so it doesn't cut through the water with much verve. So given its stable base I thought I'd add as much sail as I could hoist aloft and ran an arm the length of the boat hanging off a settee -- lanteen -- sail which fell from a mast at 45 degrees.

TRACKING

I tried many permutations in order to improve tracking and coincidentally discovered that if I ran two whatevers off the stern (they aren't skegs, keels or rudders so I don't know what to call them) either side of the beast I could track very well indeed.

Short video of the thing sailing is here.

Skegs attached to the craft didn't seem to work nor were my leeboard experiments successful.

I now use two pivoting single paddles hanging off the rear to hold me to a course. They will bounce along the sandy bottom when I have to traverse shoals in the bay and I can flip them up or detach them for portage.

Everything is light and easy on/easy off. Indeed a good part of it is held in place with stretch cords and zip ties. All very temporary.

It was pure happenstance that I found the position for these stern paddles .I found that an inch or two laterally/medially here or there or to the front makes a lot of difference to how the craft tracks.

More so than how deep these paddles may submerge.

But I wonder about moving into a sort of outrigger option -- albeit only at the rear of the craft. I'm thinking that if I added some buoyancy to the paddles themselves I'd have steerage with an outrigger attached, albeit a short ama well to the rear of the boat -- in fact, trailing behind.

But I wonder: is this worth anything in way of offering sailing stability? Such as in this image and this dual outrigger design.

I suspect that my centre of effort, given my leaning back sail is further aft than I originally thought and maybe I can do a lot more with my back end.

But can it be put to work to keep me upright in a blow?

Twin/cat-like hulls are only so protective in gusts of over 15 knots and seated low I don't have many lean-to-windward options.(So maybe I should get a simple seat and raise myself up to alter my weight shift choices?)

CRAB CLAW SAIL

Each expedition on the water is instructive. Originally I thought that what I needed was to drop my sail to the deck so that I could harness the wind energy close to the water. This may be inconvenient for seeing where you are going, of course, and you miss out on the views either to port or starboard, but the literature seemed to suggest that a wall of sail is best. However, it now seems to me that if I raise the sail arm so that the sail resembles a crab claw sail waving diagonally above the deck I'm getting better drive forward especially when tacking, even though the surface area of the sail presented to the wind seems to be reduced.

Is this impression likely to be true?

I now have a ready billow akin to a dhow's -- so I'm also wondering if that is a good thing? My mast runs at 45 degree angle from the prow.

Tilted like that it is easy to rig and especially convenient for reefing from a seated position (I just throw my line over the mast a few times and pull tight and the sail rolls up and wraps).

The irony is that my boat moves better (faster, sharper,with less effort) under sail than it did when paddled...As a purely paddling craft it's a bit of a drag.

As a sailing craft: I am surprized.

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The Flying Crutchman has a day out

After so many fiddles I think I have finally tweaked my rig - my rig of crutches -- to its best advantage under sail.     I'm sure some more changes are pending but for now I can say that I can sail the thing, even in today's shallow breeze of 4 knots.

The conditions of the last shot in the video of the Flying Crutchman sailing left to right is of the craft navigating due south with an eastery to its windward.      

Click on image for enlarged view

    More rigging adventures:

• The Flying Crutchman -- biography in pictures
• The sailing story so far 
• My Finn Gadget/ Paddleski adventures

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What can I do with crutches and swim noodles?

The Hypothetical Stern Rig

I was so sure that my latest tweak to my sailing rig would work.  

But my attempt to install dual leeboards toward the front of the vessel got me no where except around in circles. The wind still spun me about and I could not maintain tracking.

I thought 'bugger this!' -- another frustrating trial/experiment --  but before I turned my nautical person southward for the journey home I moved my leeboard setup to the stern  of the craft and lashed it there while keeping the short paddles I used as leeboards the same width apart.

Voila! It worked! Two arms -- 'amas' -- trailing behind the craft while I steered with my single blade paddle by moving it about on the lee side.

Talk about trial and error. These 'leeboards' may no longer be leeboards; nor are they skegs as that hang to each side of the hull rather than under it; nor are they rudders as they don't move  side to side. They  almost perform like outriggers except they don't contribute to buoyancy. They are also easy to attach/detach.

[And that option is intriguing -- should I fit some outrigger system by extending these leeboards, especially as...]

My new problem in today's 16 knot gusts was the threat of capsize. So I'm asking myself what can I do with crutches -- my standard refit material -- and swim noodles?

Like so (inspiration resource):

The Flying Crutchman still offers many permutations for the imagination.
                      

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Tweaking the Skeg

You fiddle with one thing and  it doesn't work. So I have no choice but to tinker with the craft  'in dry dock'   then re-enter the water, set sail  and see if the rigging performs.  

It's sail and error.

Today the original length of the skeg was too deep so that when I headed out to sea into a brisk easterly I could not turn the craft about. If I hadn't shortened sail I'd now be part way to New Zealand.

My interpretation was that the skeg was just too powerful a directional device. I want better tracking but not so I can't maneuver. I want enough play to hand so that I can navigate with my paddle in a straight line of my choosing.

Fortunately the single blade wooden paddle I'm using is easy to swing across the deck and dip either side of the craft.

I hope that a depth for the skeg blade in the water  exists that will be just right: for tracking and maneuverability.

Here's another plus: the old beer wort barrel I sealed and loaded at rear to carry gear and keep it dry (like a boot of a car) also serves as a comfy back rest for sailing in a semi recumbent position. 

As for bouncing on, and along, the bottom -- the skeg worked a treat in shallow water.Pivoted upwards, its length got in the way of the sail boom but when the shorter version is pivoted out of the water -- for whatever reason -- I hope it won't obstruct when I'm swinging the boom across the deck.

All these variables are visited upon me to test my nautical perseverance. Add to that the cold water and my chilled bum -- and it's fun afloat.

Ahoy there.

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The Flying Crutchman : phantom no longer

While I had been  previously working on my paddleski, trying to turn it into a sailing canoe, I kept running into frustrating snags. A respite from the task has enriched my creativity and over the past two days I have tweaked my design by using the material I prefer:crutches. 

The joy of crutches

Second hand crutches can be had for cheap at Op shops and they are sturdy built devices made from layers of laminated wood, held together with bolts. Inch for inch they pack  a lot of useful properties for the would-be sailor (such as I). The curves especially are a handy engineering feature.

So when I designed my sailing rig I relied on crutches as my primary building material. 

Cannibalized. Sawn off here or there. Taped and bolted together. I know that there is always going to be plenty more where the last lot came from. 

To the mix add a couple of bamboo stems, a cheap single blade paddle to serve as a skeg and a tarpaulin trimmed to shape (lateen/settee) and maybe -- maybe -- I have the makings of a sail boat. 

When last I was  sailing the craft I learnt a lot about the forces in play under sail and the boat's limitations. I hope this time around I've solved some of the issues that were frustrating me then.

With this rebuild I've parred the rigging way back and made it much easier to attach and dismantle. Rigging for sailing should take no more that 3-5 minutes; and the fold -- the mast drops to the deck and the skeg folds back onto the beam-- makes for easy portage and to trim when the wind blows up.

The only complication is that I need to navigate with a single  blade paddle as a long double blade kayak paddle is difficult to maneuver when the sail is up and hard to stow on board when not in use. I could strap a double blade paddle to the mast stem  and carry it 'on board' there but  first I want to see how well I can paddle the craft with a single blade.

When the sail is up I won't need to paddle much -- only steer. But when the wind drops away completely...? I'll have to make do with the single blade to hand.

I also thought I'd need to drill another pair of hoes in the plastic hull but -- so far anyway, touch polyethylene -- I  discovered that the physics of  ratchet tie-ing ensures that the strongest grip ratio is dependent on the width of what's tied down. Both ratchets are designed to hold 300 grams which should be enough to hang onto my mast in winds up to 20 knots. (I hope so at least. Not that I'll be sailing in 20 knot blows as I hope to be heading for port well before then.)

Pumicestone Passage

But wind gusts being what they are...I still may rip the hull open if I'm unlucky and stupid. Nonetheless, even in sudden 20 knot gusts my old rig design held my mast aloft.

If the design takes off across the waters as I hope I'm thinking that it may make a nifty sail boat. While I may call it 'The Flying Crutchman' it won't be fast as it is too short and beamy to truly  'fly'.  The hull is a twin hull design which makes  staying upright a reasonably  stable business.

However, since I have added as much sail as I could fit aloft, if capsize is inconveniently frequent I can later easily add an outrigger and run it on the lee side (and swap it depending on the tack). But the twin hulls have their advantages in way of  not drowning and  enabling a carrying capacity of 130 kgm. This means I can load up camping gear if I want and head off for sleepovers along the Pumicestone Passage.

I'd never just paddle such distances as the paddleski isn't an easy pull through the water. Better to harness nature and rely on meteorology, especially as the prevailing winds here are coming from east to south east to south west. That means that travelling north -- tacking as required -- is very feasible. Coming home aint so easy but  against a south eastery it is possible to proceed even on a craft like this.

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I'm back: with sailing in mind

When last I addressed the canoe sailing issue I flagged my intention of building a "quick canoe'. But time and tide being what there are -- I have not proceeded in all these months because I don't trust my carpentry aptitide. I know my limitations...

Consequently I haven't messed about  in boats.

I've thought about my  canoe sailing options many times but have been crippled by hesitancy. This week I was considering purchasing a reconditioned fiberglas shell canoe for $300  but  the thing was so big and heavy I got a shock  and my little, light weight, easily lifted paddleski suddenly seemed appealing.

Sample comparison

Fibreglas Canoe under consideration: 4.8 metres = 16 ft [maybe 30 kgm]
Quick Canoe:   4.7 metres = 15.5 ft [23kg]
Paddleski:         2.4 metres = 7.8 ft [18 kg]

So I decided: "Stuff it. Time to go back to where I started," I told myself.

"Fiddle with what I had and see what happens."

The main problem I had with my original rig was the amount of stuff I had to drag behind the craft. I used two rudders and oared them to turn and hold a course. It worked... in a fashion, but rear drag was significant.

This time around my thinking is being formatted by what a  'skeg' and a 'keel' does. So I've attached a simple drop 'oar' off the back to see  if 'position: position' works best. It's easily removed  and with any bouncing along a sandy bottom the blade and stem will pivot up. This skeg may drop and fall but it  holds itself in place against environmental forces that may shift it (and the craft attached) to port or starboard.

A skeg is an  extension of the keel of a boat. The name also refers to a fin on a surfboard which improves directional stability and to a moveable fin on a kayak which adjusts the boat's centre of lateral resistance.

The  hypothesis is that  the 'skeg' should hold the craft in place so that it tracks in a straight line. Kayaks are designed to easily come about and turn into the prevailing conditions  but that is a  major handicap if you are sailing before the wind.   If this rig works, I'll tweak it through experimentation.

With that in mind I also have to consider the conditions in which I sail:  a shallow bay with many shoals. So I need to ensure that anything the hangs off and below the craft  is engineered not to run me aground or break.  That means that any skeg device I attach needs to be able to bounce along the ocean bottom. 

For  steering I'll rely on a single blade canoe paddle  by dipping it either side as required. (I have a nice wooden one I picked up second hand for $10).

A double blade paddle is too cumbersome to handle on my small paddleski when the sail is up. Storing it also takes up a lot of space and it always got in the way of other activities on board. So single blade/short stem works best.

The sail, on the other hand, performs extremely well. It's what underneath that has let me down in the past. 

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Sailing a Canoe on Crutches II : Steering

The most trouble I've had with sailing my paddleski (sit-on-top kayak/canoe) is steering the thing.

My hull is a shallow semi catamaran like hull upon which sits a very beamy craft -- to 90 cm wide. This makes the thing very stable and weight bearing but it tracks slowly and tends, as so many kayaks do, to  turn into the wind and waves if not constantly guided.

One of the major reasons for this penchant to spin is that at 2.4 metres in length, this is a very short boat.

So in experimenting with steering options I soon found myself trying to compensate for  its beaminess, its short length and its  catamaran like hull.

I very soon learnt that I needed to run steerage out the back in the same way that a fish or crocodile steers with its tail. I've experimented with quite a few steering oar designs over  many months but ironically kept coming back to using crutches for my oar arms. 

My other problem was that because I was  sort of  cat like -- and didn't have a rudder -- I needed two steering oars in order to navigate with precision and control direction.

 I ran a thwart across the hull and attached to it two steering oars -- made from crutches -- with stretch cord. I need to work both oars simultaneously when the wind is up or when I want to turn sharply.

The oars can also be used to pull the craft left or right or to to move it forward by churning the water like the oar on a gondola  can be worked. This makes for ease of parking.

The oars are made from a pair of crutches dovetailed with one another and the blade is a roughly shaped piece of plywood.Originally for the blade I was using plastic chopping boards. My ongoing challenge was to work out by trial and error how far back I needed to locate the blades so that I'd have the best steering control. An advantage with crutches is that they are curved and this bend is an advantage when running the steering oar arm along the side of of the craft. They 'fit' snugly along the hull and increase the steering arc on each side. When passive and left free to drag behind,  the curve in the oar ensures the blade stays in rough alignment with the hull.

In the end...

In the end, I think I have run out of creative options despite my rough-as-guts and provisional rigging. While the paddleski sails it doesn't sail well. Because of its cumbersome tracking and labored forward motion, I lose so much of the wind power I capture in my sails and need to work hard on the steering oars to keep the craft in straight line navigation. A longer, less beamy canoe or kayak would perform much better under sail.

Nonetheless, the materials I've used -- crutches, stretch cords, and bamboo (even zip ties) seem adequate to the task despite the force of the wind. Gale force conditions would surely wreck the rigging but then who wants to test the boundaries under those conditions?

But in a breeze, I sail along with all the nautical-ness on offer and  for someone who has never sailed before,  the wind-in-your face experience and the problem solving exercises have been a great sailing apprenticeship.

• Sailing a Canoe on Crutches I :  The Mast

Sailing a Canoe on Crutches I : The Mast

When I began the process of converting  my cheap plastic 'paddleski' (sit-on-top kayak/canoe) to sail I wanted to construct the rigging from a few simple readymade materials which could be  easily replaced.

So I created my sail rig by using:

• Bamboo for the mast and spar
• Second Hand Crutches
• Polytarp
• Zip ties
• Stretch Cord

I sweated over everything and kept  fiddling with my options, but in the end some solutions seemed to work quite well.

I based my sail design on that outlined in William Mantis' little book, The $50, 5 Hour Canoe Sail Rig.

Mast Step 

I supported the mast  by a set of crutches and lashed them to the bamboo.  I dropped the two arms of the crutch either side of the kayak carry handle. The bridge  in the crutch  for  the armpit rest became  the pivot  for the mast so that I could raise and lower it.  I held this in place by  a off cut of wood. I supported the boom by adhering it to some webbing. My mast is 3  metres long. The paddleski is 2.4 metres in length.

Mast Step

Mast Upright

Since the mast is supported upright at approximately 45 degrees, I ran more crutches from a thwart I ran across the hull. I attached this to the mast by inserting a steel rod through the bamboo and the already existing holes on the crutches: I used two crutches  aligned together for extra strength.

I held the mast to the crutches by twining  through a stretch  cord. The base of the paired crutch arms sat on the thwart in a pair of socks made from webbing. This isn't the best solution, but it gave me any opportunity to adjust my design before I arrived at a permanent fix. (Maybe a better solution would be to make the crutch arms and the thwart one triangular unit which is then attached to the hull rather than have two separate attachments each side of the hull for the crutch arms.)

Since this was a temporary and provisional build, everything was held in place with Zip ties.

Steal Rod Through Bamboo Mast and Crutches

Stretch Cord Strapping

Mast Lowered to Deck

Since I didn't want to drill new holes into the plastic hull I was limited to what attachment came with the craft. I also didn't want to over stress any attachment point so that I'd do the paddleski a structural injury. The rig has been out in 15 knot winds without damage to itself or collapse. There is some lateral give  -- some flex -- but nothing that sabotages the harnessing of the wind nor  is cause for capsize. Despite the strength of the breeze or its direction the mast  stays  in rough centre line of the craft.

That's because the struts running up from the hull give the mast adequate structural support upwards  and laterally, and the meteorological forces are  spread between the two connecting points on the mast.The join between the crutch arms and the mast functions as a lever -- like  the bridge on a seesaw.  The stretch cord lashing the struts to the mast are adequate to the task of holding the rig in place against upward lift or side push and pull so long as the base of the mast is anchored to the hull. Raising or lowering the mast is an easy business of unwrapping the stretch cord and unhooking the struts from the rod. Raising the mast and setting sail takes less than two  to three minutes.

The crutches on which the mast rests hold the structure firmly in place as though they were  custom made for the task, especially as  the crutch arms curve inwards when attached at the gunwale.

Reefing  can be done very easily while seated by lifting the boom to the mast and throwing around the boom rope to tie the boom to the mast. 

•  Sailing a Canoe on Crutches II : Steering

Sailing a plastic paddleski and moving on

Since it was a gusty onshore wind today -- somewhere over 10 knots -- I went sailing on the paddleski with the latest design option for my steering oars.

The tide was way out and with the shoals close to the surface there was a lot of white water making for a very wet ride with at times 30-40 cm waves breaking over my sit-on-topness.

Everything worked. No dramas...but...

I think that after so much of my fiddling and rigging I can begin to step back from this project of turning a cheap plastic paddleski into a sailing canoe.

Learning to sail. 

En route these past so many months I have taught myself to sail. From knowing nothing and by negotiating wind and tide as a series of challenges I needed to surmount, I've gone from pig ignorance to a working relationship with the  gusty elements.

The research I've had to invest, matched with so many 'trials' upon the water has been an apprenticeship in how  to sail.

I'm still a beginner, a novice, of course --  but I at least know my way around a boat and its rigging attributes.

The sail rig

From knowing nothing about sails and rigging, the fact that I had to build my own mast and sail, adapt and attach it to the craft  has exposed me to the wonders of sailing motion. I am amazed how effective my settee sail hung from a mast at 45 degrees is. Cross wind, against the wind, downwind...I am 'blown away' by how efficiently my rig can harvest what breeze  there is on offer.

Given that I started 'sailing' with a golf umbrella -- which can only be used downwind -- the engineered sophistication of real sail design  comes as a bit of a shock.

Steering/Tracking

While my sailing rig is a delight my ongoing problems with steering my paddleski more or less undermine the whole shebang. Finally I have settled on the right length and blade drop for my pair of steering oars so that I am in control of where I actually do go.

However, my paddleski is designed as a beamy stable platform which unfortunately tracks terribly. So despite all the energy I can harvest from my wonderful sail I am spending it wastefully moving the beaminess of the craft forward.

In the situation like today where I was buffeted by so many white caps breaking along my windward side,  the force of the wind harvest was not efficiently  translated into forward motion. The craft performs much better when there are no breaking waves on the sea's surface. So offshore winds, winds from behind...etc  are the only ways to compensate for its laboured forward track.

Steering under gusty conditions is a lot of hard work as I always have to compensate for the shortness of the hull by arduously hanging onto the steering oars and use my strength against lateral forces.

The paddleski is a stable platform that will bear up under a good weight in many conditions -- but sailing it ,  as well as paddling it, won't get you anywhere in a hurry. Paddling is fine -- that's covered in its original design.  It may not track with the best canoes but you can still paddle it from 'a' to 'b' so long as 'a' and 'b' aren't  a Marathon distance  apart.

So the paddleski is my introduction to boating and still suits my offshore fishing requirements and paddling excursions...but as a sail boat, it hasn't got a bright future.

I say that because I suspect there are no further tweaks I can engineer to improve its performance.I may have converted a paddleski into a sailing canoe  but my base craft has limitations.

That suggests to me that maybe for my sailing requirements it's time to move on.

The Quick Canoe

This is where the Quick Canoe comes in. I am going to build myself a plywood canoe using plans by Michael Storer. That's my next major project.

Since I already have a sailing rig -- once I build my canoe ( huh! easy peasey, right?)  I adapt my present rig to the new build and ... sail away.

As I do so, I apply all the principles I learnt about steering oar navigation. (this is  topic -- rather than rudders that interests me.)

I'll continue to sail about with the craft I've got while I  handyman this project.  The quick canoe is supposedly a 4.5 hour build but with me, there's the rub, as my carpentry skills are non existent.

Need I point out that my current rig is held together by bungey cords and plastic zip ties!

'The Flying Crutchman'

However, assuming it happens, and I actually build a canoe that floats then I apply all the stuff I learnt from my paddleski sailing to the new craft. I for instance, extra rig it with crutches.

With crutches?

My rigging for the paddleski in both sail and steerage is made from three sets of crutches. The mast is locked to the craft -- stepped --  by a pair of crutches. The mast is held at 45 degrees angle by a pair of crutches. The shafts for the steering oars are made from a pair of crutches.

$4-5 a pair at local Op shops.

They are ideal: tooled and engineered to support the significant weight of crippled humans, and freely available as boating accessories.

It's not my invention as a name  but this build may finally be launched as  "The Flying Crutchman".

A future craft

Granted that we aren't there yet but since I like to get way ahead of myself I like to project into the future.

1. Maybe I get to apply many uses for crutches on the new craft : rigging, steering -- and , if necessary -- using crutches as supports for the ama on an outrigger.
2. Given that I'll be open canoe sailing  (the paddleski is an enclosed sit-on-top) I get to add buoyancy devices for those times when I will capsize.
3. The new craft will be longer [ Length – 4.7m (15ft 6ins) ] and will carry two people and their gear  so I get to do more and go further than with what I've got. Camping trips are an option.

When I decided on the Finn Gadget Paddleski I was nervous about my ability to paddle it -- let alone do anything else. I hadn't paddled anything for 30 years! So it was a personal experiment.Although I had dreamed and pondered  some sort of boating activity for years, I didn't caste off until very  recently.

Now I'm an old salty dog! At this rate maybe I'll solo circumnavigate something. That's because I'm hooked and there is nothing  half so much worth doing as messing about in boats.

`Nice? It's the ONLY thing,' said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke. `Believe me, my young friend, there is NOTHING--absolute nothing--half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,' he went on dreamily: `messing--about--in--boats; messing----'

Introducing the Quick Canoe

The Quick Canoe

Since I've decided to saw some wood -- plywood -- in order to attain the steering oar of my imagination -- one that works as it should -- I've been thinking: wooden boat. (My penchant has been to stick with plastic make doing). 

I can hardly drive a nail in or saw a straight line but ... Australian boat designer Michael Storer has a brilliant knack for designing easy-DIY-build small craft. Among these, and the easiest of all, is the Quick Canoe (my collection of QC links and videos).

Among the legions of Quick Canoe builders world wide is the challenge to build the canoe in double quick time -- like four and a half hours (including waiting for the paint to dry!).

I mean how can you stuff it up in 4.5 hours  for a material cost of maybe around $AUD200? The end product seems to track beautifully.

Storer's original name for the design was the 'Disposable Canoe'.

Being made from wood -- plywood in the main -- messing about  adding  a rig should be experimental easy. I'd get a potential sailing canoe  that can carry two and hold enough gear for overnighters --such as in and out the inlets along the Pumicestone Passage.

Originally I feared  open canoeing in sea and wave conditions -- as kayaks tend to rule the salty waves -- but the ready maritime habits and sailing adventures of the UK Open Canoe Sailing Group have, from afar, convinced me that opening up the hull to the elements is way to go sailing. As I had written previously, My next canoe won't be a kayak.

William Mantis' essay -- from which I drew inspiration for my current sailing rig --has also challenged my initial bias.

Captain William Bligh after all -- after being dumped by his Fletcher Christian  mutineers -- sailed an open boat from the middle Pacific to Java.

Today too you can standardly add buoyancy bags to an open canoe so that no matter how swamped you are amidships you can keep your head above water.

A day out sailing

Low tide. Brisk breeze. Tweaking the rigging. This aint me but my son at the helm. I took the opportunity to photograph the messing about in the boat.

Dipping in a steering oar

Option  A
-- For Sculling

Now here's a turn up for the manual.

The steering oar or steering board is an oversized oar or board to control the direction of a ship or other watercraft prior to the invention of the rudder.It is normally attached to the starboard side in larger vessels, though in smaller ones it is rarely, if ever, attached. The steering oar was crucial in the invention of larger vessels in a time when the technology for rudders did not exist. Steering oars were the typical steering mechanism on larger Viking ships.

Since I use a steering oar -- I'm learning that they are not handled or designed in the way that rudders are.As Gary Dierking has pointed out in regard to proa sailing canoes:To bear away from the wind quickly, sheet in hard and angle the oar deeper.

Option B
--Viking Ship

I was out in some gusty blows the other day where the wind would go from zilch to maybe 16 knots very suddenly. Fearing a capsize I'd lean my body quickly to windward while also plunging my windward side blade deeper into the water, bringing it closer top vertical. In a sense the 'oar' behaved like a centre board and the pitch to the side was anchored so the craft stayed upright.

This raises the question of how should a steering oar be designed? In most instances it's just a longer oar/paddle -- but I suspect more design issues are at stake.

In  Sculling, steering oars usually aren't required to deal with wind shifts or choppy waters for a craft that will track reasonably straight. They are little more than navigational skegs separate from the boat.Whereas a traditional broad blade oar -- such as used on Viking long boats -- was deployed in all weather conditions. It was a board rather than an oar.

Option C Proa

This video below, shows some interesting steering oar technique, but without the plunge option being deployed. These oars -- plural x 2 -- are  a simple pole with a blade end. You'll also note that the angle of the oar -- effected by raising the fulcrum above the deck -- seems to play a part in enabling a larger range of motion. (But then, thats' what you'd need, says I, if your blade was tacked on the end of a stick).

Martinoli Steering Oars for Sculling