The hour for the race arrived. The boys were all excited and flocked to the water's edge, whence the start was to be made. There was a goodly throng of them present, and, notwithstanding their contempt for the Scotchman, it was no doubt the desire of their hearts that some of my overweening conceit should be taken down a couple of pegs or so. Presently my rival appeared on the scene, carrying in his arms the queerest looking craft any of us had ever seen. Her hull was shaped like an Indian birch bark canoe, except that to the rounded bottom a keel was fastened. A groove was made in the keel, in which an oblong piece of slate was placed, to the bottom of which a strip of lead was secured. The rig was that of a cutter, and I noticed that her sails were well cut. She looked quite business-like, and when she was measured we found she was two inches shorter than my cutter.
There was a nice, fresh westerly wind blowing, and quite a lop of a sea running for diminutive craft such as were about to race. I had already deemed it prudent to take in a reef in the mainsail of my vessel, and set a No. 2 jib, but my Scotch friend said he thought his boat would carry whole sail without any trouble. The course was south, so the craft had to sail with the wind a-beam. The start was made, my boat being to windward, as I had won the toss. And that was all I did win. The "ballast-fin" craft beat my cutter so badly that even at this distance of time my ears tingle and I feel ashamed. While my boat was burying herself, her rival took the curling wavelets right buoyantly, standing up to her work valiantly, and moving two feet to the cutter's one. We accompanied the model yachts in row-boats, keeping well to leeward, but quite close enough to observe their movements accurately. That was my first experience of the ballast-fin. We all became converts, and shoal, round-bottomed craft, with slate fins to give stability and lateral resistance, were thenceforward the fashion. My successful rival, we afterward discovered, was the son of a naval architect of repute, and he is now practising his father's profession with a good deal of success.
Thus I have not a word to say against the ballast-fin so far as racing is concerned, but in cruising the average man who sails for pleasure wants a craft that he can haul out of the water easily to scrub, clean and paint. Now, if you put a ballast-fin boat on the mud for any one or all of these purposes she requires a "leg" on each side to keep her upright, and also supports at the bow and stern to prevent her from turning head over heels. The stationary fin always represents your true draught of water. It is always with you and is an integral portion of the boat's hull. If you happen to get stuck on a shoal—and this is a contingency that has occurred frequently to the most skillful and careful navigator—in thick weather for instance, your lot is by no means to be envied. This is particularly true if the tide is falling fast. The boat would go over on her side as soon as the water got low enough. The crew and passengers might have to wait aboard until high water, and a precious uncomfortable time they would pass I am certain. When the flood tide made it might be a moot question whether the boat would float or fill with water.