wooden boat – Page 103 – intheboatshed.net

1917 distance control boat restoration under way at Avonmouth

There are restorations – and then there are restorations so challenging and rarified that the very thought of them makes my teeth rattle and the fluid surrounding my brain boil. this is one of those…

Here’s what my correspondent Helen Aldom has to say about it…

‘One of 12 40ft fast torpedo boats built in 1917, CMB9 was discovered by marine surveyor [and my correspondent’s brother] Robert Morley, who found her lying in a boatyard where she had been neglected for 40 years and was due to be broken up.

‘A crude attempt had been made at some stage to convert her into a cabin cruiser.

‘It is remarkable that she survived so long in those circumstances, and fortunate that Mr Morley was able to recoginise the hull shape straight away having worked on the restoration of a 55ft torpedo boat of the same era.

‘He had the boat transported to his yard at Avonnmouth, and while he feared she could break her back in the process, the boat had been so well made by the original builders, Thorneycroft, that she didnt even creak or groan.

‘This strength is partly due to the remarkable number of ribs placed close together.

‘She has a stepped hydroplane hull and is of double diagonal mahogany construction. Boats of this type were capable of 40 knots propelled by a single screw, and carried one 18 inch torpedo.

‘At present power is provided by two Leyland 400 diesels dating back to the 50s. Subsequent research has confirmed the identity of the boat. The records show she served with the Navy during WW1 and was based at Osea Island and at the Dover Patrol’s advance base at Dunkirk.

‘What adds to the historical importance of this boat is that in 1918 she was converted into a top-secret distance control boat and designated DCB1. In this role she was fitted with twin screws, bilge keels, radio masts and a small bridge with wireless controls – unfortunately, details of the tests remain classified.

‘She is the only surviving example of this type of boat. The unusual square super-structure that CMB9/DCB1 now has was added with the purpose of protecting the radio control equipment.

‘During the war she saw action at Zeebrugge and escaped unharmed from a German torpedo attack – CMB1 took a direct hit and blew up.

‘She is now registered with National Historic Ships and recently received an award from the Transport Trust.

‘Mr Morley hopes to get her back on water by next year in order to take part in events marking the centenary of the outbreak of World War I.’

The National Historic Ships page describing the vessel explains that distance control boats were under radio control from an aircraft some distance away – the vessels’ speed made them difficult targets to hit. The single torpedo was fired from the stern.

I don’t have access to classified records, but I’d suggest that DCBs would be unmanned and that they would have to be regarded as a kind of early drone.

DCB1 remained in service with the Royal Navy until the early 1950s and it is believed that it is the only surviving boat of its type. It would be interesting to know what role the boats may have played during World War II.

There is a Facebook page showing the restoration and recording interesting facts – see and ‘like’ it here.

Thanks Helen!

Andy Wrate talks about owning, rowing and sailing the Ness Yole Aluna Ivy

This magnificent boat is a Ness Yole named Aluna Ivy and belongs to a lucky man called Andy Wrate. Here’s what he has to say about her, and the experience of owning and using her for many years:

‘The name Aluna Ivy more or less means Spirit of Ivy, as she’s a close replica of a Ness Yole built in 1905 named Ivy; ”Aluna” is the metaphysical layer which the indigenous Kogi people of Columbia believe underpins this physical world.

‘She is as nineteenth century authentic as possible – larch planks copper clenched and treenail fastened to grown oak frames, standing rig is Norwegian made tarred 4 strand hemp, rudder hangings are bronze. The writing style of her name plate mimics Ivy’s. Even the bung is a whisky cork with a copper nail!

‘The sail is made by Norway’s leading sail maker Frode Bjoru who has just made the silk sail for the huge Viking replica Dragon, Fairhair. It is flax and treated with birch sap and horse fat from below the mane, and hemp roped.

‘Re modern bits, about all I can think of is that the planks are fastened at the end-post rabbet with stainless screws – as it is stronger than bronze, and some of the running rigging is hempex rather than natural hemp. The hull was saturated in Deks Olje D1 oil for days before D2 varnish was applied on top. Originally of course they would have been tarred.

‘It’s no surprise that a Ness Yole’s ancestors are Scandinavian; indeed complete boats and later shaped planks for home construction were imported from Bergen from the seventeenth century. The half frames and flexible construction of the Ness Yole can be seen in many Viking Age boat finds.

‘We use Aluna Ivy for family holidays, explore remote places on the Scottish north west, and she has been to a number of traditional boat festivals, including various International Festivals of the Sea, Brest 2000, and Iceland.

‘How does she row and sail? Well, wonderfully actually. Of course she’s fast under six oars, and the need for velocity made good (VMG) often dictates this is how we should go upwind, but she’s pretty good sailing to windward also.

‘The sail is an asymmetrical square dipping lug, very powerful off the wind and points high, maybe 50 degrees, but drops at least 10 to leeward.

‘The fresher the wind, the higher she points. Windward performance is the first question I’m often asked (well, the first is actually the perennial ”is that an Ian Oughtred design?”)

‘That question about windward performance comes only from a modern perspective and wouldn’t have occurred to the old fishermen: they would have stuffed a bit of raw whale meat between their teeth and settled down to a long row home.

‘Stability? Although she has a narrow footprint when empty, a few folk in the boat sits her down in the water and stability greatly improves. In twenty years of ownership I’ve only reefed her once. That was doing 10NM in 70 mins on a broad reach, five up, and stamping in sound tradition on the floorboards to stop her going ”loose”.

‘While giving good tracking as long as she is sailed bolt upright, her 4in by 16ft keel allows her to skid safely sideways in the gusts when many a ballasted boat would have dipped a gunwhale.

‘In all, she’s a norse boat, and while like other boats of her type she would try to sail under as the speed climbs, her lugsail lifts the hull to perfect balance.

‘Aluna Ivy was made by Ian Best of Fair Isle, who trained in Norway in traditional boat-building, and is today regarded as the top uole builder, and I am privileged to use her. More than a boat, it has been a passport to twenty years of amazing experiences among boats and their people.’

Many thanks for a great story Andy!

There are more photos of Aluna Ivy on Intheboatshed.net here and here.

1940s and 50s barge crewman and skipper Jimmy Lawrence tells his story

Jimmy Lawrence has fabulous recall of his days sailing on barges in the 1940s and 50s, and has an entertaining way of telling stories about those times. So when we heard that he was going to be talking on Southend Pier as part of the Southend Barge Match last week, we took the opportunity to hear him again.

It was only a shame that there weren’t more people – but Jimmy tailored his talk to the interests of the smallish assembled party of mainly sailing barge racing crew.

It was fun too to travel on the little railway that runs along the pier – at more than a mile long, it’s a considerable feature of that bit of coast.

Here’s one of his stories from the time when he got his first job as third hand on the sailing barge Gladys, which is now a wreck on Deadman’s Island, on the north bank of Stangate Creek. The third hand’s job was not a great one in many ways, not least for an experienced young man who was the butt of a lot of the older men’s jokes, some of them gentle and some less so.

Third hands were also expected to act as cook, and so the skipper might shout ‘Put plenty of salt in boy and pr’aps they’ll cry their bloody eyes out!’ or ‘He couldn’t cook hot water, not without burning it he couldn’t.’

‘This was just after the war and there was no lights on the Thames Estuary at all and it was ever so dark, and you just come down to the skipper’s knowledge, his compass and the leadline. It weas marked at every fathom and you had to call them out properly… You couldn’t just say ”two fathoms skip”, it’d have to be ”by the mark two”, or ”and a quarter two” or ”less a quarter two” with everything done ever so promptly.

‘As third hand you’d start to worry because if the barge went aground, you knew it would be your fault and you’d get a kick up the arse. When it got to ”and a half one” you’d get really worried.

‘The skipper would start making out he was a bit nervous too and he’d call out ”What’s the bottom like boy?” and you’d have a look [at the tallow at the bottom of the line] and you’d say ”Just soft mud skip.”

”You sure boy? It should have some grit in it. Lick it boy lick it!”

”It’s soft mud skip.”

”Right he said. We’ve brought up just by that bloody sewer outfall.”

I’m pretty sure there aren’t too many like Jimmy still around, so I hope someone somewhere is getting it all down!

Btw, there are instructions on how to use a lead line here.