The next “fittin’s” to look to are the running lights. The old rules used to taboo the combination light. Even a green-eyed citizen, with a red nose was disallowed, but now motor boats under 26 feet overall may carry them, provided that the former white light that used to be in the middle of the combination does not show. Boats of this size are also required to show a clear white light a foot higher than the green and red combination for’d, so that your boat must have a flag-pole socket astern and a pole with halliards for the lantern by night, and presumably your ensign by day. For motorboats from 26 up to 40 feet overall (deck measurement) four lights are required; green and red starboard and port side lights, in light screens, so fixed as to show the light from dead ahead to two points abaft the beam; a white light, placed as far for’d as possible, throwing an unbroken light ten points on each side of the vessel (dead ahead to two points abaft the beam on either side); a white light aft to show all around the horizon. This is also your anchor light, which must be shown from sunset to sunrise unless you happen to be an inner boat in an anchorage whose limits are already clearly lighted. If you get run down while at anchor without a light you are liable for all damages to the other fellow, besides the Government fine. All these lanterns must have fresnel glass lenses, which are fluted, with prisms inside, so that the flame appears as a long, bright bar of light when looking at it from the water alongside. In the spitkit class under 26 feet, plain glass is allowed, but it makes a poor, discouraging, dangerous light to carry. A set of fresnel glass lanterns in polished brass will cost you about $12 for the four. Screens for side lights of motorboats above 26 feet must be 18 inches long and above 60 feet, 24 inches long. The screens are usually painted red and green inside, though the law does not expressly require it.
The running rules on which the navigation laws are based have been made into rhymes by some forgotten poetical genius, and are well worth committing to memory, for it is impossible to get them wrong, once learned that way; the meter will not jibe if you attempt to get port and starboard mixed up.
RULE I.
Meeting steamers do not dread
If you see three lights ahead.
Green to green, or red to red,
Perfect safety, go ahead!
Pretty and soothing, isn’t it? Especially the third line. Rule II covers the only dangerous situations afloat, and so it has quite a poem:
RULE II.
If to starboard red appear,
’Tis your duty to keep clear;
Port or starboard, back or stop her,
Act as judgment says is proper.
But if on your port is seen
A vessel with a light of green
There’s not so much for you to do,
The green light must keep clear of you.
The poet who wrote that was a genius. Take it apart, and I defy you to get any of it in wrong again and yet come out all right in your meter. These two rules cover about the whole subject of maneuvering at night except when overtaking another craft, in which case you must keep clear of him. Sail boats carry no white light, wherefore keep clear a single red or green light as all sailboats have the right of way. Tugs carry two white lights hanging from the top of the flag pole for ordinary tows, three for tows 600 feet long or more. You can perceive by the above that “by their lights ye shall know them”—not only what the stranger is, but which way she is going.
By day the rules of the road prescribe a corresponding set of navigation signals; wherefore you will find the law requiring you to possess in good working order: a whistle or blast of two seconds’ duration; a fog bell; and a fog horn. (They used to call for four seconds’ blast, but even the 18-inch hand-whistle would peter out in about three seconds unless blown by an expert.) As sold, you get the hand-pump in polished brass for $1.75 in the 12-inch length, and $3.50 in the 18-inch, with the whistle stuck on an elbow at the bottom of the pump. This will not do, since the whistle has to be above the cabin roof to be both ornamental and useful; so the handiest place for the pump is to screw it to the cockpit floor just under the steering wheel with a brass 3/8-inch pipe, running up the cabin panel to the roof, on which is screwed the whistle. This sailorman has no use for a chime, for the reason that three small whistles use up a good deal more air than one larger one. One bright spirit of my acquaintance has an air cylinder reservoir 2 feet long by 12 inches diameter, with a check valve on it, through which his pump fills the reservoir with compressed air. A very respectable deep-voiced tugboat whistle connects to the reservoir and every one gives him a wide berth in a fog, not guessing by the whistles that it only belongs to an 18-foot motorboat instead of an ocean-going tug. The foghorn may be an ordinary tin fish-horn from 2 to 3 feet long. Don’t blow it under way in a fog, unless your regular whistle is rusty or out of whack, for the other boats will take you for a sail craft, and it isn’t fair to give wrong impressions at sea. Your fog bell may be 6 inches across the mouth for motorboats up to 40 feet, but the 8-inch bell in polished brass is only $1.85, so by all means get it, no matter how small your craft. You’ll appreciate it some day in a thick fog! And don’t blow your horn and ring your bell at the same time, as Kipling makes his fishermen do in “Captains Courageous.” The two signals mean two different things, under way and anchored, and are sure to get you into trouble if you sound them both at once. When under way at half speed in a fog blow a “prolonged” blast (say, three seconds if the pump will let you) every minute. If anchored, ring the bell for five seconds once every minute; not oftener, as that would tell the other fellow that there are two of you, but right on the dot, timing it with your watch.
In navigating by day, one blast of your whistle means, “I’m turning to starboard,” or “Will pass you on your port.” Two blasts:—“I’m turning to port,” or “Will pass you on your starboard.” Meeting obliquely, if you have the other fellow on your port you have the right of way. He should then give one blast saying that he is turning to starboard and will pass you to port. You answer with a single blast showing that you understand. If he wishes to cross your bow he will give two blasts, meaning he will turn to port. If you assent, two blasts give him the permission; if not, do not attempt to cross-signal or contradict—blow four short toots and slow your motor until both of you come to some agreement. He should at once slow down on hearing your alarm signal. Most harbor tugs will cross your bows even when you have the right of way, and few of them ask your permission. They feel that “business is business” and you are out for pleasure, so it is not worth while getting stuffy about it. If in a dangerous predicament and you have reversed engines, give three blasts to let the other fellow know you have done so, and if you see any of his lights out at night give him the “double-two,” or two short blasts, a pause, and then two more. It is not merely a courtesy, it is your duty. And if you hear the double-two, don’t gape around like a man paralyzed, but look to both your screens, your bow light and stern lantern, at once. It may mean you!
All boats are required to carry life preservers, two sets of the harbor rules, and means for putting out gasoline fires. While the law regarding life preservers reads only for the hired launch, it worked backwards to the bonafide owner, as every hired launch immediately became “the owner and his friends,” so that in many harbors the inspectors were forced to require one life preserver to each person on all boats so as to reach the commercial launches. The sets of harbor rules are printed both in pamphlet form and as a framed document. For small boats up to 40 feet the pamphlet form, kept in the chart drawer, СКАЧАТЬ