MERLIN AND IREX
George Barrie, Jr.
THIS year A.G. and I took our boats, Merlin and
Irex, to Annapolis during the Decoration Day
holidays, leaving them in charge of the Hellers. We made
one weekend dash during June, and on the first of July he
went down with Alexander, his son, while Bob and I did
not get away until the third.
The little Seminole was still on the shore, as
last February I had become the proud owner of the Irex,
built by Ford in 1894, thirty-eight feet over all,
twenty-nine feet on the waterline, nine feet one inch
beam, and six feet draft. Yawl-rigged and
flush-decked.
In the main cabin there is six feet headroom, as over
the floor is a mahogany skylight and hatch combined. On
the starboard side of the companion ladder is a large
locker three feet wide by four feet deep, extending from
deck to floor, forward of this is a berth, back of which
are three lockers; on the port side is a short sofa five
feet long, at the after end of which is a china closet
and at the forward end a bookcase. A swinging table
occupies a great deal of floor space, but is a
convenience and a comfort which more than makes up for
the sacrifice of room. Aft of the ladder is a stateroom,
on the port side of which is a permanent berth with
lockers underneath and also at the forward end; on the
starboard side is a bureau containing two drawers,
overhead is a skylight three feet wide by two feet six
inches long which gives five feet six inches headroom, as
the floor is six inches higher than the cabin floor. In
the galley are two folding pipe berths; one of which
holds sails, vegetables, etc., and the other is used only
when there is a third person aboard; no paid hands ever
being carried. Two Primus stoves, a good sized ice box,
lockers, and shelves take up the rest of the space. A
quadrant hatch is on the port side. All locker doors have
rattan panels which allow complete air circulation, and,
therefore, prevents mold.
The Merlin, since broken up, was an old-fashioned
straight stem cutter, designed by G.M. Ripley, and built
by D.C. Bernard in 1884. She was thirty feet four inches
over all, twenty-five feet on the waterline, seven feet
beam, and drew five feet. A good, old boat, sound as
could be, and with a good turn of speed in light airs.
Her narrowness somewhat crowded the accommodations below,
which were arranged in the usual way, i.e., main cabin
with two berths and a good amount of locker room in the
forecastle a berth for a man and the cooking
paraphernalia.
Irex • Merlin • Liris
BASIN OF THE CORINTHIAN YACHT CLUB OF
PHILADELPHIA.
WINTER 1903
ST. GEORGE'S LOCK: IREX AND MERLIN
On the morning of July Fourth we were all up early,
and, after breakfast, set sail before a light northerly
air for West River. The Merlin for some unaccountable
reason got off before we did, a circumstance that never
happened again during the cruise. As we drifted down to
Tolly Point I repaired the awning torn by a squall, which
during the previous afternoon had nearly blown Annapolis
into the harbor. On reaching the point we set the
spinnaker, but soon changed it to balloon jib and then
kept shifting it back and forth several times before we
rounded the old weatherbeaten red spar in the mouth of
West River. Headed up for Rhode River and anchored just
inside the mouth behind a sandspit, but not so far in
that we did not have a view of the Bay.
Recollections of many pleasant days anchored in that
same spot are brought up by the mention of the Rhode
River Sandspit. How pleasant to lie there on a bright day
with awnings set, a breeze from the southwest sweeping
across West River, the tall pines of Curtis Point, the
bugeyes and schooners collected in Parish Creek, perhaps
one or two with sails set ready to slip out with a load
of wheat for Baltimore, the rolling country to the north,
the peaceful "ondulation" of the sail of a canoe tied
close to the bank, or the weird appearance of sails
traveling over the land as one comes slowly down a hidden
creek, a few shore birds or a couple of crows strutting
along the hard packed sand of the spit. But all the
enchantments of Rhode River are not to be seen from here.
First of all is Cadle Creek, on which is situated a small
collection of tiny houses, known locally as Scrabbletown,
while the post office has the old family name of Mayo.
Beyond the first point the river becomes really a lagoon,
the surface of which is broken by three tree-covered
islands, while the mouths of three creeks lead one on
with the promise of further beauties.
After lunch we sailed in small boats to the west
shore, but did not stay long, as a heavy thunderhead
gradually making up in the northwest sent us back on
board to set the rain awnings. The balance of the
afternoon being taken up with two showers and the
preparation of dinner, which we did not enjoy, as both
were not feeling up to the mark. The Merlins went ashore
to call on some friends, but we stayed at home.
Up at four o'clock, and after breakfast we started off
under lower sail. Clear, with light northwesterly wind.
Set the balloon jib when in West River, and stood on port
tack for the black can; carried past it for a mile, and
then gybed over for the run to Oxford. Had a grand run
down the western shore, as the breeze had increased.
Washed decks and straightened up. Off Herring Bay
Merlin's balloon jib halyard parted and the big sail fell
alongside in the water; we could see them having a
terrific struggle to get it on board, and after doing so
they set balloon staysail and working jib.
IREX IN THE TRED AVON RIVER.
Off Holland Point we headed over for Sharp's Island
Light, breeze lightened, and, after entering above
Sharp's Island, we hove to until the Merlin could make up
on us. Had coffee and crackers to pass the idle time.
When the Merlins came along we persuaded them to go to
the Little Choptank instead of Oxford; so we again set
balloon jib for the run down behind Sharp's Island, and
for some time we kept side by side, and, after a council
of war, concluded to go into Slaughter Creek, but when we
reached there we were not attracted; so kept on up the
river.
Just beyond the next creek, which breaks the south
shore, we, who were leading, ran plump ashore while
traveling at a fair rate, as the breeze had shifted to
southwest and freshened. Merlin had kept more to the
north and did not touch. We quickly carried out the
kedge, and, with the aid of the windlass, were soon off
and following after Merlin. Ran close to a lumber-laden
schooner in order to get directions for entering the next
creek. The names of most of these creeks are not given on
the chart, and we did not learn them from the natives.
The instructions were of such length and so involved,
that, not being able to make out the marks, we soon
anchored. After lunch we all sailed in our longboat up to
the town marked on the chart: the name of this classic
spot we learned was Madison. Breeze gradually dying, so
the last part of the sail was slow work. Walked about the
town trying to get meat and milk, but could not get
either, so filled the milk can with green apples. On
getting back to the boat I left the others and went on to
a house on the outskirts of the town to try for chickens.
After many laughable attempts the man succeeded in
catching one, then the others became too wily; although
we needed four, concluded to take the one, and the price,
after some hesitating, was set at thirty cents, but as he
could not change a dollar and could catch no more I went
back empty-handed. A long row back to the boats kept Bob
and A.G. from getting chilled -- ther. 90°.
BUGEYE GOING TO WINDWARD WITH STAYSAIL
BUGEYE BEATING INTO A NORTHEASTER.
There not being a breath of air and great humidity, we
ate dinner on deck; this over, A.G. brought over his
phonograph, or rather the records and horn, as we carried
his machine; and music was ground out for an hour or so.
Fine moonlight night, but hot below, so I took a mattress
on deck and slept wrapped up in a sheet. Never felt the
heat so on the Chesapeake before or since.
Had early breakfast and made an early start for
Oxford, the Little Choptank having no charms for us after
the unpleasant afternoon and night; although we now have
a craving to go there some Spring or Fall and explore
this river of intricate channels, low, pine-clad shores,
and many creeks. A few minutes after leaving, as we were
running together with northwest breeze, we saw rippled
water ahead and were somewhat confused; Bob said, "It is
either very deep or very shallow," and just then we
grounded, and all doubt was driven from our minds. The
Merlin, which was heeled over more, went some distance
farther before stopping. Tried to get off by getting the
sails over to the other side, but the tide was rapidly
falling and we held fast, so carried out the anchor, but
by the time we succeeded she was some inches out of
water. Sailed around in the small boat looking for the
channel, and, with the information from some natives who
visited us later, saw that the chart was decidedly wrong,
the first time we have ever found the Chesapeake charts
to be at fault. A long bar stretched out from either
shore, overlapping, with the channel running diagonally
to the shoreline of the river. A heavily loaded bugeye
came down and was guided through by a man in her bateau.
Had a bath, being able to walk on bottom, which we found
to be sand and oyster shells packed as hard as cement.
About one-thirty, the tide being flood, we slipped off;
anchoring some distance above, and then went in the small
boat to help the Merlins who were on tighter than we had
been. Thunder had been heard for some time, and at four
o'clock we got a squall out of the northeast, heavy rain
and enough wind to cause us to drag back toward our
resting place of the morning. Put over the other anchor,
but we had drifted so near the rippled water that we did
not like to stay there all night, so we hoisted sail in
order to move, but just as the second anchor came out the
breeze fell flat and we had to let it go again. At dusk,
however, the breeze came down from northeast; the Merlins
came to help us, and we once more made sail. The breeze
turned out to be a small squall, but we beat up far
enough to be well away from that bar which seemed to
attract us like a magnet. Bed at eight-thirty.
Shortly after four o'clock, next morning, we saw the
captain of the lumber schooner being rowed aboard, so we
hurried in order to follow him out, as he was evidently
bound for Baltimore; but, much to our dismay and
confusion, he did not head for the regular channel but
went out a slue about which yesterday's visitors had told
us and through which we had blunderingly come the day we
came in. As we were somewhat panic-stricken after our
late unpleasant episodes, I went ahead in the small boat
to pick out the channel, while the Merlin and Irex
followed under easy sail; found three to five fathoms.
But we did not feel safe, after having been so deceived
by the chart, until past Hill's Point, and we were glad
to shake the water of the Little Choptank from our keels.
Merlin slowly drew ahead in the light air and kept
gradually increasing the lead all the time. Off Cook's
Point we were disturbed by the rumbles of thunder and the
breeze falling flat; then, what appeared to be a tide
eddy, although no swirling of the water could be seen,
caused us to turn a complete circle. Off the red buoy the
flood tide helped us, and a light breeze aft pushed us
slowly toward Benoni Point; set spinnaker, and enjoyed
the sail. Passed to the north of the light and anchored
above the steamboat wharf at four-forty-five. Dimphel
boarded us almost before the anchor was down and insisted
upon our going over to his place, but as we had mail to
send and were in need of ice we stayed where we were.
Next morning we scoured the village for provender;
meat and vegetables very scarce. Had another visit from
Dimphel just before lunch, and in the afternoon we
touched up the topsides. In the evening we went ashore
again for preengaged chickens, and plucked them by
moonlight on the schoolhouse green.
Up at five o'clock this morning as Bob wanted to go to
Easton to look at a semi-yacht skipjack which we heard
was for sale cheap. Scurried around to get breakfast, and
just as he was about to leave he looked at his watch and
found that the cabin clock was twenty minutes slow, so he
had to abandon the trip. We often wonder what would have
happened if our clock had been right. Another boat on our
hands? But instead of a train ride for him alone, we both
enjoyed a fine sail in the longboat, running abeam to a
moderate southwest breeze to the other side of the river,
where we landed in front of a small deserted house;
walked around, peeped in the windows, rested on the
porch, admired the beautiful view down the Tred Avon and
across the Choptank, lifted the bucket from the well,
went into the barn, where we saw a pair of antique fire
tongs, the latter we concluded to give a kind home, as
they were apparently unappreciated where they were.
On getting back on board we finished doing the
topsides, and then went to the shipyard, making photos
there, and also of the "Strand," as the shore drive is
called. The afternoon was used up with a few odd jobs on
board, and then, as the old Merlin was too fat and the
young one too small to reeve a new jib topsail halyard, I
went over and shinnied to the topmast head for them. A
phonograph concert in the evening was greatly appreciated
by the natives who gathered in numerous bateaux.
IREX RUNNING DOWN THE CHOPTANK RIVER.
THE HEIR HANDS THE STAYSAIL ON MERLIN.
Thursday, up at six o'clock, straightened up and then
set mizzen and jib for the run over to Dimphel's before a
southwest breeze, which kept gradually hauling until,
just as we reached the mouth of the creek, it came
butt-end first from the northwest, dead ahead, so we
anchored, but in a few minutes our host came out with his
whaleboat launch to tow us in, and took us so far that we
grounded. He then went back for the Merlin, but the
breeze had become so heavy that the little launch could
not make headway with her. Filled our tanks from his
rainwater cisterns and then went to his house where,
before lunch, we examined his numerous models of boats,
built and to be built; every time we have visited him he
has had some fresh design about which he was exceedingly
enthusiastic. About three o'clock we prepared to leave,
and had considerable difficulty in getting out of the
tight place into which he had put us between his boat and
wharf. We were now off the ground and had to turn around
in a narrow space and then run sharp under the stern of
his boat or we would have run into the bank. Managed it
all right, and were soon at our old anchorage again. Ice
and provisions were laid in as we expected to start early
the next morning. Merlin came over about an hour after
us, the skipper having fallen in the fore hatch and
bruised his leg to such an extent that in a few days it
looked like a tattooed savage's.
IREX, PANOLA, AND MERLIN IN DIMPHEL'S COVE.
PLAINDEALING CREEK.
Beautifully clear morning with good northerly breeze,
and although we were up at five o'clock it was nine
before we got off, as we waited for the Merlins, and as
usual they were like the cow's tail. Set big jib topsail,
and after rounding Benoni Point set the little one as a
fisherman's staysail. Breeze gradually dying out, and
before reaching Sharp's Island we were in the midst of a
fierce Irishman's hurricane. Rolled around until two
o'clock, when the northerly came again, and we commenced
a tiresome beat up the Bay, Merlin gradually working
ahead. Tacked about every three-quarters of an hour,
making very little each time on account of the strong
ebb, but vessels bound south slipped out of sight in no
time, while we could not get any apparent distance from
Sharp's Island Light. Had dinner of fried chicken on
deck, and as the sun set the breeze went down.
At dusk we could just make out the red buoy off Poplar
Island, while the Merlin appeared to be abreast if not a
little beyond it. Suddenly a breeze, which rapidly
freshened, came from the southwest, and we were soon
slipping along at a good rate, but not so fast that
Merlin had to lower her peak to allow us to catch up to
her. Had intended when we started in the morning to go to
St. Michael's, but in the dark and with the rapidly
increasing breeze we were afraid to try Eastern Bay and
the Miles River, so decided to make for Annapolis. While
running from Bloody Point over to Thomas Point, where we
almost hit the black can, which is just below the light,
we passed through quite a fleet of Bay steamers bound out
from Baltimore. Ran up the edge of the red sector of
Thomas Point Light and hung a lantern in the mizzen
rigging in order to show the Merlin when we should turn
in on the Severn River course. Just before we were in a
position to do so the band came off the head of the
spinnaker pole, allowing the end of the spar to drop
overboard, and it soon broke at the rigging. Anchored in
the usual place at eleven thirty with everyone ready for
bed.
Saturday we were late in getting up, and, after a
palaver, it was decided to go to Magothy tomorrow instead
of back to Eastern Bay; so more provisions and ice were
brought aboard in the morning, and in the afternoon,
while the others loafed, I obtained from a builder of
small boats a yellow-pine spar, the only one of suitable
length, which I turned into a spinnaker pole, and
although somewhat heavy, it served the purpose. In the
evening sailed in the longboat, but turned in early.
Sunday, both feeling sickly from tomatoes and milk the
day before, but we were off with the Merlin at nine
fifteen. Light southerly breeze into which we beat until
abreast the red can just outside Greenberry Light, then
we eased sheets and headed for the black channel can off
Hackett's Point. Annapolis looked particularly attractive
in the bright sunshine this morning, and we were loth to
leave. When halfway to Sandy Point Light set balloon jib,
and shortly before reaching the light changed it to
spinnaker. Both running together, and we decided, as the
breeze looked very favorable, to run up to Worton's Cove,
leaving out the Magothy. After passing the light we
gradually drew ahead of the Merlin as she did not set her
spinnaker. Off Patapsco passed close to a bugeye
thrashing into it under all sail, a very exhilarating
sight; one man at the wheel, while two others were seated
on deck at a small table, busy with lunch. As usual we
did not see the red buoy off Swan Point, and the balance
of the run up to the cove was uneventful. Lowered
mainsail outside, but the Merlin did not, so she anchored
above the steamboat wharf some little time before we did,
which was about three o'clock. Straightened up and had a
swim before supper and afterward sailed up the creek, all
in our small boat, to the house of an acquaintance, where
we stayed awhile, returning on board in the bright
moonlight; a dash of phonograph and then to bed.
For next morning we had planned a boat expedition to
Fairlee Creek, but the young Merlin backed out, as a
thrasher at the farm and some boys were more to his
taste. Only three of us, therefore, started off in the
long boat, but when halfway there, while beating into a
light southerly breeze, Bob began to feel chilly, so he
took to the oars, and although he rowed at a terrible
rate his teeth continued to chatter. Finally reached the
mouth of the creek, where we landed, and, while Bob
tramped in an effort to get rid of his chill, A.G. and I
watched a seine being hauled, but as Bob was extremely
uncomfortable we were soon in the boat and on our way
back home. On reaching the boat Bob went to bed, and
after a time he fell into a sleep, which lasted nearly
all afternoon. I had a quiet time on board, and later on
sailed with A.G. up the creek, making soundings as far as
the farm landing, where we inspected the thrasher and
loitered until dinner time. Bob in a fever, but somewhat
better by evening.
INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS ON THE IREX.
This morning the occupant of the sickbay was much
better, but decided to spend the day at ease. So I made
some small repairs, while the Merlins took their boat
ashore to finish putting on a rope fender which they had
started at Oxford. A trip to the farm was made in the
afternoon for ice and chickens, but as the latter had not
been caught the evening before another journey was
necessary. A small squall appeared in the southwest, so
took in awning and paid out more chain. Three fishermen,
a bugeye, and two pungys, who had stayed in the harbor
all day on account of the Bay being too rough to permit
fishing, got up anchor and sailed up into the creek. This
made us somewhat anxious, and we became more so when one
of them as he passed said there would be lots of wind. It
did not last long, only about half an hour, and, although
we dragged a little and put over the second anchor, it
was nothing to what we had been led to expect by the
actions of the natives; however, one can never tell what
a squall will amount to. After dinner we became
completely panic-stricken when another bugeye loaded with
wheat, which had not moved for the afternoon squall,
began to get up his anchor, and, with a very light air,
move into the creek; so we held a consultation, but
decided to stay where we were. At dusk I sailed to a
house situated on a bluff on the north shore for milk,
while the Merlins went up the creek for the chickens. Had
to wait for the milk to be coaxed from the cow, but had a
pleasant beat back in a freshening southerly breeze. When
the Merlins came with the chickens they also brought the
news that all on board the trading vessels were of the
opinion that there would be a bad night. Sat on the
counter and picked the chickens. Fine moonlight and no
signs of bad weather.
Up at four o'clock next morning. Breeze northwest,
bright and clear. Got away right after breakfast; Merlin
took the ground for an instant on going about close to
the south shore. After several tacks we made the red can
off the point, and then eased the sheets a trifle as we
stood for Turkey Point.
Breeze freshened rapidly until we had almost as hard a
northwester as we ever have in the summer time in these
parts. Met several schooners bound down, one large,
two-masted vessel, looked fine as she passed well heeled
over. After passing Turkey Point the Elk hills kept off
some of the breeze, and we had a more comfortable sail up
to the anchorage at the mouth of Back Creek, where we let
go at noon. Immediately after lunch Bob, the young
Merlin, and I sailed in the small boat to Chesapeake City
for ice and butcher's meat; as the wind was fair we made
good time, and were fortunate to catch the afternoon tow
down. Dinner and early to bed.
As we were not to move today we did not get up until
hunger made sleep impossible, which was not very late in
the early morning. Bob and the young Merlin sailed in the
ducker while I housecleaned and put two blocks of oak
over each of the bibs as the shrouds had stretched so
that the turnbuckles were chock up. This necessitated the
slacking up of all the rigging, and by noon I had not
quite finished. A southwester had been gaining strength
all morning, until by two o'clock it was blustering, and
the Merlins, who wanted to go to Betterton for mail, had
a terrible struggle rowing the two miles in the face of
it to Town Point Wharf. A large tow came down about three
o'clock, and five or six schooners, some with reefed
mainsails, made a pretty sight as they worked down the
narrow river. Naps by Bob and tinkering by myself passed
the time until dinner. A beautiful, peaceful, moonlight
night was a pleasant successor to the turbulent day.
Merlins not expected until very late, so we turned in
about nine o'clock.
MERLIN: OFF LOVE POINT.
In the morning we were up about six o'clock, and saw
by their yawlboat that the Merlins had returned, so
shouted to get them up, but no signs of life, then rang
the bell fiercely, but all was peaceful as a deserted
boat, and as a last resort fired the cannon, which
brought the sleepy head of the old Merlin to the hatch,
but the young Merlin never moved. Today, instead of
having too much wind, there was none at all, but about
half-past eight o'clock we all got into our longboat to
drift up the river. After going about a mile we came to a
very large sloop, named Carrie, loading grain from
a flatboat. On boarding her found that at one time she
had been a yacht, and it looked rather odd to see grain
in bulk in cabins finished in white and gold. From her we
went ashore, where an old Delaware River "strikemaster"
sloop somewhat over forty years old was having new
timbers and new planking fastened to her old keel. A
ramble over the hills in search of milk gave us exercise,
but none of the desired fluid, and, as it was becoming
very warm, we were glad once more to get on board, then
overboard. A sewing circle and phonograph concert after
lunch were brought to a sudden stop by the rapid approach
of a squall from the northeast, which passed over with
moderate wind and very little rain, then came a more
modest one from the northwest, and finally a parting one
from the southwest. Very vivid lightning brought out the
lightning rod -- a piece of wire dropped overboard from
the topmast shroud. Quite cool in the evening, which we
spent below listening to music from the young Merlin, who
performed on the phonograph.
THE OLD DELAWARE RIVER STRIKEMASTER.
Turned out at three-thirty, so as to get breakfast
before the tug should come, as we intended to leave for
home. Shortly before five o'clock the tug appeared, and,
after picking up a pungy which had arrived during the
night, he came for us, and we were in the canal and ready
for the mules at six-thirty. After an uneventful trip
locked out at eleven o'clock, just in time to catch the
very last of the flood tide, but it did not carry us far,
and by six o'clock we had made only ten miles.
Anchored for supper, and by the time we had finished
the tide turned, so we once more made sail. A draft into
a squall gave us about five miles of good sailing, but we
finally ended up at the club at ten-thirty, going stern
first. A good cruise, but the Merlins were awful hard to
get started in the mornings, being addicted to much
sleep.
..
© 2000 Craig
O'Donnell, editor &
general factotum.
May not be reproduced without my permission. Go scan
your own damn article.