Sunday, August 29, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The Manitou Islands lie about eight miles off the coast of the Lelenau peninsula of Michigan. Both islands were used for timber and small-scale farming. The North Island housed a U.S. Coast Guard Station which is still standing and the South Island provided the best sheltered harbor between Chicago and Machinac. During the late nineteenth century both islands were used as refueling points for steamers. Small communities formed around the lumber camps and docks, but the majority of the island's residents seem to have been homesteaders with anywhere from two to twenty acre farms in secluded areas of the islands. During the 1880's a small resort association of Chicago businessmen grew on the western coast of the North Island where about ten of the cottages can still be seen in ruins. Today both islands are part of the Sleeping Bear Dunes State Park and are designates as wilderness areas.
While the South Island can be a day trip and provides tours of its lighthouse, beautiful dunes and several campgrounds, the North Island is completely wild except for about twelve acres surrounding the Ranger Station and dock. As soon as you have reached the wilderness area you can camp just about anywhere that is more than 300 ft from the water.
|Historic Fishtown in Leland, where the ferry to the Manitou Islands departs.|
|Traditional fishermen inspect the engine of the Joy, one of Fishtown's two working Michigan "fish tugs."|
|Looking astern in the Manitou Isle, the ancient ferry that serves the North Island.|
|The Ranger Station, Caretaker's cottage and Boathouse from the dock.|
|We camped on the northern end of the island near the John Maleski farm.|
The stars were fantastic on the clear nights, the Milky Way shining through the walls of the tent. We had front row seats for the Perseid meteor shower which was occurring for several of our nights on the island.
|Blackberries at the Paul Maleski Farm|
|This Painted Turtle was here for the berries as well.|
|Dinner on the third night was exceptional: orzo with dried zucchini, carrots, tomatoes, parmesiano and olive oil.|
|A massive ant nest.|
Some of the local flora.
|Lake Manitou is a surprisingly large lake in the very center of the island.|
On our fourth day on the island I took my fishing rod on the two-mile ordeal through mosquito infested forest and swamp leading to Lake Manitou. I had hiked over to the lake two days earlier and talked to a fisherman who said he had been catching 20-30 18+ inch smallmouth. Looking at the map I had imagined Lake Manitou would be more of a small pond surrounded by swamp, when in fact, the lake is quite large. The bottom runs out shallow a good forty to fifty feet and then abruptly drops off. My fly rod and floating line proved itself incapable of reaching the trophy bass which apparently wait in the cool about thirty feet down.
|One of the few people I saw on the island.|
|The water is unbelievably clear.|
|A freshwater muscle in the soft silt that surrounds the lake.|
|All that remains of one of the biggest farms on the island.|
|Walking down from Swenson's farm to the Ranger Station.|
|The beautiful shingle barn now used by the Ranger Station.|
|An amazingly cow-like combine.|
|Coast Guard patrolling the beach on a rather interesting looking machine. I wonder if the Vintagent could identify it from this snapshot.|
|Coast Guard Station next to the Boathouse.|
|This is the original Beebe-McLellan Surfboat from the Island.|
The Story of the Surfboat is too amazing not to repeat here. Apparently, "oar and wind driven surfboats were used by the U.S Coast Guard Life-Saving Service prior to the introduction of motorized lifesaving craft. The Beebe-McLellan type surfboats were self-bailing, had sealed air compartments, a water ballast tank, a centerboard and could carry a sail rig. This is the only known original boat of this type and is believed to have once been assigned to the North Manitou Island U.S. Life-Saving Station. The boat was constructed in 1908. A girl's camp on Elk Lake acquired the boat in the early 1920's and it sailed until the mid-1950's when it was placed on a cradle, a roof added, the self-bailing and ballast tanks removed, to become a playhouse Noah's Ark. A fully rigged reproduction Beebe-McLellan Surfboat is on display at the Sleeping Bear Point U.S. Life-Saving Station Maritime Museum at Glen Haven, Michigan." A rather appropriate use for a lifeboat...
|A last view of the island from the ferry.|
|The return voyage was extremely choppy with six foot swells. Several people were seasick.|
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Nearly 60 designs were entered for the competition, but none was accepted outright, and Tord Sunden, then an amateur yacht designer, was chosen by the organizing committee to pull together the most promising aspects of the top four designs submitted.
The result was the nautical equivalent of the German Volkswagen, the people's car. She was named the people's boat, the Folkboat. But little did the organizers of the competition imagine how successful she would be Eighty orders poured in from all over Sweden before the final plans were completed.
Today, 60 or so years after the first Nordic Folkboat was launched, there are thousands of Folkboats afloat: wooden ones and fiberglass ones. The majority are in Europe, with Sweden leading the pack, followed by Denmark, Germany, Finland, and the Unite d Kingdom. There are about 120 in San Francisco, where the San Francisco Bay Folkboat Association administers the fleet, and where the Folkboat's wonderful heavy-weather performance is much admired.
Besides the Nordic Folkboats, all of which comply with the class's one design rules, there are thousands of near-Folkboats, close look-alikes such as the Contessa 26 (featured in the September 1999 issue), most of which attempt to increase her interior living space with more beam, a longer waterline, and a larger coachroof, while retaining her fabled seakeeping qualities and her classical good looks.
In 1966 Tord Sunden introduced a variant of the classic Nordic Folkboat that lacked the traditional lapstrake planking. It was carvel-planked and featured a shallower, self-bailing cockpit. She also was more luxurious below. She was known as the Intern ational Folkboat, but the Scandinavians regarded that description as misleading, and referred to her only as the "IF Boat." The term International Folkboat survived in the United States, however, and the International Folkboat Association of San Francisco Bay held sway over their racing and cruising activities there.
The original design concept had a long, overhanging stern, like a 30-SquareMeter's. But that was later chopped off, probably because a long overhang adds considerably to building costs. The result was a much more seaworthy transom stern. The transom, h owever, was given a handsome rake so it would better match the moderate overhang of the bow, and thus the after end of the full keel also was clipped away to line up with it. That, together with the generous cutaway up forward, greatly reduced the wetted area of the keel without affecting its efficiency. Early critics thought the raked rudder would make steering difficult under some circumstances, but experience proved them wrong.
The first boats were, of course, built of wood. Their bulls were clinker-built, or of lapstrake construction, with each strake overlapping the upper edge of its neighbor below. This makes the boat strong and light. It also adds greatly to her looks by repeating and emphasizing the sweet lines of her sheer.
The first fiberglass Nordic Folkboats were legalized in 1977 and were exact reproductions of the wooden boat, including the overlapping strakes. They raced on equal terms with wooden boats and were forced by the strict one-design rules to use wooden ma sts.
The International Folkboats were regarded as a separate class, although their overall measurements and design were basically the same. They, too, were produced in fiberglass, but with smooth topsides and lighter aluminum masts.
Between 1967 and 1984, when production ceased, Marieholms Bruk, of Sweden, launched more than 3,400 International Folkboats, hitting an annual record high of 552 boats in 1975. After that, there was a steep decline in demand, although almost 1,000 were sold in the next nine years.
Production of fiberglass Nordic boats also continued apace, and a Danish boatbuilder, Folkebådcentralen A/S, of Kerteminde, has now built more than 900 Nordic Folkboats that are solid GRP replicas of the original wooden-hulled design, lapped strakes and all.
The Folkboat has a rounded underbody with fairly slack bilges, a combination that makes for slight initial tenderness but more than compensates for it with comfort at sea. After that initial tilt, she stiffens up considerably, so much so that she is ab le to race in winds strong enough to keep other classes in port. The topsides and the cabintop are low, offering little resistance to the wind and making no concessions to creature comfort below. The foredeck is uncluttered—there are only a hatch and a mooring cleat to stub your toes on—and convenient to work on.
The engine is a matter of choice and depends on whether your boat is Nordic or International. Some boats have a well in the cockpit for an outboard motor of between 5 hp and 8 hp. Others mount an outboard on the transom. Still others prefer an inboard auxiliary, usually a single cylinder diesel. If you're planning an ocean crossing in a Folkboat, it would make a lot of sense to choose an outboard, and to keep it on the transom. If you find it interferes with your self-steering gear, you may have to hou se it in a well, in which case you can either leave it down, causing a little drag in the water, or remove it and store it below while you're on passage. The inboard engine makes more sense for weekenders or coastal cruisers who won't miss the valuable st owage space as much as the bluewater cruisers will.
It doesn't take long to describe the Folkboat's accommodations, although they, too, can vary according to whether she's Nordic or IF, and from builder to builder. On the IF boats, there's usually teak everywhere, and vinyl headliners. The hull is lined with padded vinyl, too, in place of the wooden ceiling. The V-berth has two berths more than 6 feet long, and the main cabin has two settee berths which are even longer.
Some boats have an enclosed head compartment, and others are supplied with a portabl e head. There's a rudimentary galley, and there may even be a small chart table. There's usually a hanging locker somewhere, and a few lockers and shelves scattered around the place, though not nearly enough for a long voyage. Nowhere is there sufficient room to swing a cat, and nowhere is the headroom more than 4 feet 8 inches.
The interior is bright and airy, though, especially with the companionway sliding hatch open, and seems very welcoming and protected in contrast to the exposed conditions of the cockpit.
The Nordic Folkboat is a Bermudian sloop with a wooden mast and a conspicuous fractional rig the forestay joins the mast about two-thirds of the way up from the deck. This makes for a small working jib and a large mainsail. It is, perhaps, not as effic ient as a rig with a larger jib, seeing that the jib does most of the work when going to windward, but it certainly makes for happier cockpit crews when the load on the jib sheets is small.
Folkboats not subject to the one-design racing rules usually have modern masthead rigs and aluminum spars. Many of the boats in the United States are rigged that way. If you're more, interested in crossing oceans than in racing around the buoys, the al uminum masthead rig might be preferable because it makes provision for double lower shrouds in place of the single after lower shroud that is standard on wooden masts.
The mast is stepped on deck but appears to be well supported by a massive deck beam and seems not to compress the cabintop as so many others do. Presumably, after more than 50 years of racing and ocean cruising, the builders of Folkboats have got it ri ght.
Right from the beginning, Nordic Folkboat owners agreed to race without spinnakers, to make thing easier for family sailors and shorthanded crews. But those gung-ho Finns couldn't stand it. Even though they couldn't compete internationally with spinnak ers, they raced with them among themselves.
"We simply think that sailing with a spinnaker is more fun, and that it makes sailing more colorful," explained a member of the Finnish Folkboat Association.
Any class that is still going strong after more than 50 years obviously has something good going for it. The Folkboat has several excellent features, not the least of which is her performance. For a full-keel boat, she is surprisingly fast and close-wi nded. Her PHRF rating is 228 for boats with outboard engines and 234 for boats with inboards.
On top of that, she's easy to handle. A picture of IF Boat 377 (Magnificent Obsession) published in Latitude 38 magazine in June, 1998, shows her rail down just outside San Francisco's G olden Gate in 25 knots and more. She has one reef in the mainsail and full working jib—and her tiller is being held dead fore-and-aft. No weather helm there.
The Folkboat is indeed revered for her ability to carry sail in strong winds, and no doubt her extra-heavy keel is largely responsible for this. The ballast ratio is an extraordinary 54 percent, which means the iron keel alone weighs more than all the rest of the boat. Little wonder that Folkboats were, and still are, so popular in the blustery San Francisco Bay area.
Her performance as a seaboat is legendary, of course. It wasn't just a coincidence that two of the six boats in the first Singlehanded Transatlantic Race, in 1960, were Folkboats. Valentine Howells raced in the conventional Folkboat Eira, while Colonel H. G. ("Blondie") Hasler sailed a much-modified Folkboat, the famous Jester, which had a standard hull but a flush deck with a central control point and a Chinese lug rig.
The long keel gives the Folkboat good directional stability, and this, together with her zesty performance and her easy motion, makes her a sensible choice for a singlehanded voyager or a young couple—and we say a young couple only because young p eople are more likely to be forgiving about the Folkboat's biggest disadvantage, her lack of interior space.
After nearly 60 years of production and real-life testing, there are no weaknesses left in the Folkboat that are not patently obvious, such as the cramped accommodation quarters. This is a very open, honest boat.
If you're contemplating buying one for a long voyage, you'll have to look for the wear and tear applicable to boats in general. Inspect the hull for the dreaded boat pox, if she's GRP, and be careful to locate any areas of rot if she's wooden. Dance on those fiberglass decks and tap away with your screwdriver handle.
As always, even if you think you know it all, it's a wise move to get a second opinion. Let a qualified surveyor check her out. It's your life that's at stake.
This is another boat people fall in love with so passionately that it's difficult to get an owner to say a word against a Folkboat. Her classic beauty alone is enough to still all criticism.
Yet the physical exploits of her devotees give us valuable insights into her abilities when the sole arbiter is the sea itself. Blondie Hasler's wooden Jester is both a good and a bad example of this. Good, because she crossed the Atlantic 14 times. Ba d, because she was eventually lost at sea without trace. But she was very old and she had suffered more punishment than a dozen normal boats.
From the waterline down, Jester was a normal Folkboat, but the rest of her had been greatly modified by her owner, who was much given to invention and experimentation. She was a very early model, and in fact sailed from 1952 to 1959 with Hasler's "lapw ing" rig before he threw that out and installed a junk rig for the 1960 Observer Singlehanded Transatlantic Race.
Hasler came in second in that race, a remarkable achievement. He was only eight days behind Francis Chichester's Gipsy Moth III a much bigger and faster 39-foot sloop that crossed the finish line 40 days after the start. Jester was driven hard, and was reduced in one gale to what Hasler described as "four reefs down."
The other Folkboat in that race, Eira, came in fourth out of six in 63 days. Eira was knocked on her beam ends, and Valentine Howells put into Bermuda to replace a chronometer he had lost and to repair some damage.
In 1963, Adrian Hayter circumnavigated the world alone, sailing halfway—from England to New Zealand—in Sheila II, a 32-footer. But he completed the New Zealand-to-England leg in a Folkboat called Valkyr. Mike Bale also sailed from England to New Zealand in a Folkboat called Jellicle, and had a crew for part of the way. In 1975, a 55-year-old Australian grandmother named Ann Gash sailed around the world singlehanded in a Folkboat called Ilimo. She chose the east-to-west route via the Panama Ca nal, but had the boat shipped for part of the way, from Ghana to England.
More recently, a British Folkboat called Storm Petrel was completing an unusual circumnavigation in 1998 with solo sailor Tony Curphey aboard. It was unusual because Tony's wife, Suzanne, was also making a singlehanded circumnavigation aboard her own b oat, a 30-foot Seadog ketch called Glory. They had originally set out separately, not knowing each other, but they met in New Zealand and got married in the Solomon Islands.
Tony's Folkboat often beat Suzanne's Seadog into port on subsequent legs of their tandem voyage and regularly clocked up 130 miles a day in the trade winds. Their plan, once they had completed their solo circumnavigations, was to sell their boats, buy a bigger one, and carry on cruising—but together this time.
There are undoubtedly many other Folkboats that have sailed around the world and around Cape Horn, singlehanded and crewed, whose names have not been recorded in the annals of small boat sailing. There was a time, 50 years ago, when such voyages were r are, and records were kept of individual exploits. Now that they are more commonplace, nobody seems to be keeping the tally, which is a great pity. Perhaps the Internet will one day find a place for the Roll of Honor of small boat circumnavigations; if it does, the Folkboat will surely feature prominently.
According to Marek Janiec, a member of the Swedish International Folkboat (IF) Association's technical committee, there are about 2,000 IFs in Sweden, and the market price there for a boat in excellent con dition is about 60,000 Swedish kroner, or $7,400 U.S. There are about 4,000 IF Boats scattered throughout the globe, which makes it the biggest deep-keel racing class in the world.
"In Denmark, the price is 20 percent to 30 percent higher, and down in Europe, still 20 percent more."
So—would you score a financial coup by going to Sweden, buying a cheap Folkboat, and sailing her home? Probably not, although it's a very attractive plan, in any case. Secondhand International Folkboats sell on the West Coast of the United States for between $10,000 and $14,000, so the savings are not substantial in actual dollar terms if you factor in travel and accommodation charges. A brand-new fiberglass Nordic Folkboat costs about $40,000 in Denmark.
Wherever you buy one, a Folkboat represents good value for a boat capable of carrying one or two people around the world, albeit in cramped surroundings. Besides that, if you have any finer feelings at all, you'll have to agree that she's one of the mo st beautiful boats ever made to go to sea. Just looking at her riding to anchor in her own reflection in a tropical lagoon will make your heart leap with delight.
Text from The Nordic Folkboat: Little Beauty with a Big Heart by John Vigor.
Also, a here is a link to Sea Room a film featuring the Folkboat about the 1976 St. Francis Yacht Club's Woodie Regatta in the San Francisco bay.
This little Folkboat was built between 1964 and 1965,
probably in one of the original Scandinavian Folkboat shipyards. She is in very good condition and was sailing earlier this summer, but could definitely use some love and attention. Her exterior varnish is a bit shabby and the electronics haven't been used in a while. She is possibly the only Folkboat on the Great Lakes. Equipped with riding lights, fog horn, oil lamp, lit binnacle, and four berths, she should make a fantastic cruising boat, or even enter some races with an appropriate handicap... I am sure there will be many more stories to come from adventures on this little beauty.
Monday, August 2, 2010
As I described earlier, the Shanghai Shuttle can't quite hit the power band of the new pipe. This is because the variator is opening too quickly, making the gear ratio too tall to allow the bike to get into the pipe's power band. In order for the bike to hit the power band in the highest gear ratio of the variator, the variator must gradually open throughout the range of the power band.
A variator works on the principal of centrifugal force. As the rpm of the crank (and thereby the variator) increase, three weights (in a Honda Hobbit) are forced apart on ramps which in turn force the variator to close. As the variator closes, the belt running between the two angled plates is forced further out on the pulley. This changes the gearing of the bike from short to tall, or from low to high.
The picture on the right shows the variator in the closed position during high rpms. Notice how the rear variator, described in the picture as the "driven pulley," is open. This variator does not contain weights but rather a spring which is tuned to take up the slack of the front variator or "drive pulley". The benefit of a variator is that you essentially have an infinite number of gears between low and high gear which means, on a well tuned bike, maximum torque throughout; from low to high end.
However, if a) the variator closes too quickly the bike will drop out of the power band and be unable to reach maximum rpms, or b) the variator changes too slowly the power band can only take place within a limited range of the variator, meaning that you could top out well below your top gear.
The solution to this is to tune the variator to close later by lightening the weights in the front variator or by putting a stronger spring in the rear variator. If done correctly not only will you shift later, but the shift or variation will occur over a much wider range. Today I started by lightening the weights. There are three weights in a Hobbit variator. I weighed each of them on a triple beam and the average was about 14.8 grams. I found a drill bit that looked about right and drilled out the center of each weight taking off approximately 5 grams.
The disassembled variator with a weight on the scale.
Drilling out the weight
A comparison of the weights before and after lightening.
With the freshly tuned variator back on the bike there was a noticeable difference. The variator opened much more gradually and wound up into the beginning of the power band at around 35 mph, but once again, shifted too soon to carry the bike through the variator while in the power band. As the picture above shows, there isn't enough material to take out any more weight. The next option is to either find lighter aftermarket weights, or even better, to find a stiffer rear variator spring to keep the variator from closing so soon. The good news is that there was a definite improvement, and there is plenty of room for more modification. Upgrading to a larger and more tunable carb will also really help. I took the bike out today for a trial run, and even without hitting the power band I was able to make high forties. On the downhills I could get into the power band and that was fun. It will be interesting to see how this Cali pipe performs on a variated bike once it's dialed in.
Variator images courtesy Just Gotta Scoot.