Windswept_ The Story of Wind and Weather - Marq de Villiers [120]
This kind of loss is still poignantly felt around here. Among the many sleek and beautiful vessels turned out of Lunenburg shipyards was the legendary Bluenose, under its even more legendary skipper, Angus Walters. For decades the Bluenose raced against the best and fastest that New Englanders from Gloucester and Boston could throw against her, and though she lost a few races, even the Gloucestermen, albeit grudgingly, called her Queen of the Atlantic. But in the end, the internal combustion engine was not resistible. They tried packing a motor into the Bluenose, but she wasn't meant for diesel, and was sluggish underway. Eventually she foundered on a reef off Haiti with a cargo of coal, and was lost. That was in 1946. That really was the end.
Unless, unless . . . Don Barr, the former skipper of the tall ship Bluenose II, believes that anyone with a fifty-foot schooner could make a good living today, in the early years of the millennium, the cost of freight—the cost of oil, he means—being what it is. Never mind what the burning of oil is doing to the environment; its uncertain supply and spiking cost, he believes, may make sail once more competitive, not just for feel-good do-gooders, but for businessmen trying to cut their costs. And the experimentation goes on, for humans really can't resist tinkering to make things just that little bit better . . . and the wind is always a challenge.
In September 2004 a curious flotilla gathered off Rhode Island. The boats were all what is called C-class catamarans. They were all oddly shaped, with protrusions and struts and ailerons and peculiar sails that only occasionally looked functional. This was the International Catamaran Challenge Trophy, also known as the Little America's Cup, the world's most high-tech regatta. What attracted the high-techies was that the regatta's relaxed rules meant the designers could try almost anything as long as they didn't exceed the maximum dimensions and permitted sail area. It was the first time the race had been run since 1996, when Duncan MacLane of the United States skippered Cogito to victory over the Australians. Going in, the favorite was a British vessel called Invictus; designed by aerospace engineers and sailed by John Downey, a retired Concorde pilot. In trial runs Invictus had reached the astounding speed of 30 knots (34 miles an hour) in a 15-knot wind—the real America's Cup yachts would be lucky to reach 10 knots under the same conditions. In the end, though, Invictus had to scratch after an accident in the setup races, and Cogito won again, beating its boathouse-mate Patient Lady in the finals.
The most interesting things about both Invictus and Cogito were their sails—a rigid wing that looked as though a real aircraft wing had somehow been chopped off and stuck upright on the hull. The wing sail works the same way an aircraft wing does, using lift provided through Bernoulli's principle, except that the lift is forward and not up, just as it is in a pitcher's curveball. This forward lift drives the vessel forward because the sail is held upright at an angle to the wind. The rigid sail is more efficient than canvas partly because it doesn't have to waste time finding its shape before propulsion happens, and the whole sail can be at the correct angle, not just the core of it. Also, its carefully designed shape produces lift at a much smaller angle to the wind than a fabric one. And finally, a rigid sail supports itself, which means less