Lesson 20 — Which Boat Should You Learn In?

The Best Beginner Boat May Be the One You Don't Own

You have decided that you want to learn to sail.

You have found a sailing club. You have met some sailors. Perhaps you have already been taken out on the water and discovered that sailing is considerably more interesting than it looks from the riverbank.

Then comes an apparently obvious question:

What boat should I learn in?

Search online and you can disappear into a bewildering world of Optimists, Toppers, Solos, Picos, Zests, Wayfarers, RS boats, Merlin Rockets, keelboats, racing dinghies and dozens of classes you have probably never heard of.

Some sailors will confidently tell you that the boat they learned in is the ideal boat.

Others will tell you that their present boat is the one everyone ought to own.

My advice to a complete beginner is much simpler:

Don't start by choosing a boat. Start by choosing somewhere to sail.

Because the best beginner's boat is very often:

the boat your club has available, in suitable conditions, with somebody competent beside you.

That brings us almost full circle to the very first article in this series.

You do not necessarily need to buy a boat to become a sailor.

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What Actually Makes a Good Training Boat?

There is no single feature that magically makes a boat suitable for beginners.

What matters is the combination.

A useful training boat should normally be reasonably stable, predictable and forgiving. Its controls should make sense, it should not become hopelessly overpowered in the conditions being used, and ideally it should allow an instructor or experienced sailor to accompany a newcomer when necessary.

But there is another requirement that is sometimes forgotten:

the boat must still respond when you do something.

If I move the tiller, ease the mainsheet or shift my weight, I want the beginner to see and feel the result.

A boat that completely disguises mistakes may feel reassuring initially, but it does not necessarily teach very much.

The ideal training boat gives feedback without frightening the person sailing it.

And different boats achieve that in very different ways.

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The Optimist — Small Boat, Serious Sailing

For many younger sailors, the Optimist — usually known as the Oppie — is one of the classic starting points.

It is small, simple and remarkably capable.

Its box-like appearance can be deceptive. The Optimist is not merely a children's toy. It is an internationally established one-design sailing dinghy with an enormous training and racing structure behind it. Its hull and rig provide a relatively stable platform for younger sailors, while still giving enough responsiveness for sailors to develop very sophisticated boat-handling skills.

For the right-sized young sailor it offers something particularly valuable:

independence.

There is nobody sitting beside you doing half the work.

The sailor steers.

The sailor controls the sail.

The sailor decides where the boat goes.

And, inevitably, the sailor occasionally gets it wrong.

That is an excellent way to learn.

However, it would obviously be ridiculous to suggest an Optimist as the universal answer for every beginner. An adult beginner is unlikely to be particularly enthusiastic when shown something resembling a small fibreglass bath and told to climb aboard.

The lesson is not that everyone should learn in an Oppie.

It is that the boat needs to suit the sailor.

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The Topper — Simple, Tough and Very Good at Teaching

The Topper occupies another important place in sailing instruction.

It is a small single-handed dinghy with a long history of training use. Its simplicity, responsiveness and durable construction have made it particularly suitable for sailing schools and clubs.

And there is something rather useful about learning alone.

When the boat speeds up, you caused it.

When it stops, you probably caused that too.

If it points in completely the wrong direction, there isn't another crew member available to blame.

That makes a small single-hander an excellent teacher.

But there is an important qualification.

Putting somebody alone into a boat should happen when their confidence, ability, weather conditions and supervision make it appropriate.

For some people, the independence is exhilarating.

For others, the thought that there is nobody else aboard is precisely what makes them nervous.

Neither reaction is wrong.

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The Single-Handed Training Dinghy — Zest, Pico and Similar Boats

There is another group of boats designed very much with training centres, clubs and recreational sailors in mind.

Boats such as the RS Zest, and the familiar Laser Pico, fall broadly into this territory.

Depending upon configuration, boats of this type can allow somebody to sail alone while still being sufficiently accommodating for another person to come aboard.

That flexibility is tremendously useful.

An instructor can initially sit beside the learner and demonstrate:

• steering;

• mainsheet control;

• tacking;

• gybing;

• stopping;

• balance;

• points of sail.

Then responsibility can gradually be transferred.

Instead of saying:

"Right, you know the theory. Off you go."

the instructor can progressively stop interfering.

First the learner takes the tiller.

Then the mainsheet.

Then begins making the decisions.

Eventually the instructor is doing remarkably little except asking awkward questions such as:

"Where is the wind coming from?"

That gradual transfer of responsibility is one of the best ways to build confidence.

And once the beginner is ready, the same general type of boat can often be sailed single-handed.

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Double-Handed Training Boats — Learning Together

Now we move into an area I particularly like for adult training.

A larger double-handed dinghy changes the experience considerably.

The boat is more substantial. There is room for an instructor or experienced sailor. Jobs can be divided between helm and crew. You can begin introducing the jib, communication, teamwork and weight distribution without asking one person to do everything simultaneously.

A traditional example would be the Wayfarer.

The Wayfarer has been used for training, racing and cruising for generations. It is a boat capable of taking somebody through the early stages of sailing and considerably beyond them.

Modern training boats take a similar idea and add newer materials and layouts.

One example particularly familiar to me is our RS Toura.

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Why I Like the RS Toura for Introducing People to Sailing

I sail our RS Toura with my son Paul, and Rosamund also crews with us, so I have seen first-hand why a larger, stable boat can be so useful.

The Toura is not trying to behave like a tiny racing dinghy.

It has space.

It has stability.

There is room for people to move without every change of position feeling as though somebody has stepped onto the edge of a dinner plate.

RS describes the Toura as suitable for training, cruising and family sailing, with a durable polyethylene hull, substantial internal space and a reefable mainsail.

For a nervous beginner, those characteristics matter.

You can put somebody on the helm without making them feel that they are suddenly responsible for everything happening aboard.

Someone experienced can remain beside them.

Another crew member can work the jib.

You can talk.

You can demonstrate.

And if something starts going wrong, somebody experienced is already there to help.

That allows a new sailor to concentrate on one skill at a time.

"Keep us sailing towards that tree."

Then:

"Now try easing the sail."

Then:

"Feel what happens when you pull it back in."

Training does not need to mean overwhelming somebody with twelve controls and a lecture on aerodynamics.

Sometimes the most effective instruction is simply allowing a person to discover that they are actually controlling the boat.

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Bigger Isn't Automatically Easier

There is a trap here.

You might assume that if stable is good, enormous and heavy must be even better.

Not necessarily.

A larger boat brings different challenges.

There may be more sails.

There may be more control lines.

Loads can become greater.

The boat has more momentum.

Launching and recovery may require more people.

And a larger boat approaching a pontoon at the wrong speed has rather more enthusiasm for continuing forwards than an Optimist does.

Every design is a compromise.

What we want is not the biggest boat.

We want a boat appropriate to the sailor, location and lesson.

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What About a Club Keelboat?

At some clubs, particularly those sailing on lakes, reservoirs, estuaries or coastal waters, you may encounter club keelboats.

A keelboat gives beginners another experience.

The weighted keel creates much greater resistance to capsizing than you would normally have in an ordinary dinghy. That can make a keelboat an excellent training platform, particularly when several people are learning together.

A modern example is the RS21.

This is a completely different proposition from an Optimist or Topper. It is a 6.67 metre keelboat designed around accessible team sailing and close racing, with space for several crew and a lifting bulb keel.

For an adult learning at a coastal or larger-water club, something of this type could be an excellent introduction.

But on a relatively narrow stretch of river, boats like these are naturally less common.

Draught, manoeuvring space, launching facilities and the nature of the water all influence what makes sense.

This is another reason that I would not begin by saying:

"What is the best training boat in Britain?"

A much better question is:

"What boats work well where I am actually going to sail?"

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And Then There Are Performance Boats...

Eventually somebody looks across the dinghy park and sees something rather more exotic.

Lots of control lines.

Large sails.

Perhaps a spinnaker.

Carbon spars.

Very experienced sailors making the whole thing look ridiculously easy.

And the beginner thinks:

"Could I learn in that?"

Technically, perhaps.

Would I recommend it?

Probably not.

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My A-Rater Is Not Where I Would Start

My A-Rater Champagne is a lovely example of why the boat you eventually want to sail is not necessarily the boat in which you should learn.

A Thames A-Rater is a remarkable river racing boat.

It is light, powerful, responsive and extremely specialised.

That is precisely what makes it interesting.

But those same characteristics mean that it is not where I would put somebody for their very first experience of steering a sailing boat.

In a forgiving training boat, a hesitant tiller movement may result in a gentle change of direction.

In a more responsive racing boat, the same movement can produce a rather more immediate answer.

The boat expects its crew to participate.

Balance matters.

Sail trim matters.

Timing matters.

Teamwork matters.

That is part of the pleasure.

You can eventually sail something like an A-Rater because you first learned the fundamentals somewhere considerably less demanding.

There is no embarrassment whatsoever in that.

Formula One drivers did not begin in Formula One cars.

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Traditional Classes — Old Does Not Mean Obsolete

It is also important not to assume that the newest boat must automatically be the best.

One of the delights of British club sailing is the enormous variety of established classes still actively sailed.

Take the Merlin Rocket.

The class dates back to the 1940s and has deliberately developed rather than remaining a strict one-design. Modern Merlin Rockets are sophisticated two-person racing boats with powerful rigs and spinnakers. The class itself describes the Merlin as a restricted class rather than a one-design, allowing boats to be tailored within class rules.

A Merlin is therefore not something I would necessarily nominate as the easiest first boat for a complete beginner.

But crewing one with an experienced helm?

That could be an excellent way of discovering another level of sailing.

You begin to understand that sailing is not merely:

pull sail in, push tiller, hope.

You begin learning about balance, communication, sail shape, tactics and teamwork.

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The Solo — Simple Idea, Considerable Skill

Then there is the Solo.

As the name rather usefully suggests, it is a single-handed dinghy.

The design dates from 1956 and remains an active racing class today.

This demonstrates another interesting point.

A boat does not have to be new to remain relevant.

And something that looks relatively straightforward can offer years of development.

There is an important difference between:

easy to sail

and

easy to sail extremely well.

Many successful sailing classes have survived for decades precisely because beginners can sail them while experienced sailors can spend years discovering how to extract another fraction of a knot from them.

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Don't Choose Your First Boat by Watching YouTube

Online videos create a slightly distorted view of sailing.

The spectacular boats naturally produce spectacular footage.

Foiling boats scream across the water.

Skiffs explode downwind under huge asymmetric spinnakers.

Racing crews perform beautifully choreographed manoeuvres.

Those videos are wonderful.

But they can accidentally suggest that this is what sailing is supposed to look like from day one.

It isn't.

Your first successful sailing session may consist of sailing 100 metres across a river, turning around and coming back.

And you know what?

That can feel fantastic.

Because you made the boat do it.

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Ask Five Questions Instead of Asking "Which Boat Is Best?"

If you are joining a sailing club and wondering what to sail, ask:

1. What training boats does the club already have?

There is little value in deciding that a particular class is the perfect training boat if the nearest one is 150 miles away.

2. What do most people at the club sail?

Local knowledge is immensely useful. Boats popular at that club are probably suited to that particular water.

3. Can I crew for somebody experienced?

This may teach you far more quickly than immediately sailing alone.

4. What suits my size, mobility and confidence?

The right answer for an eight-year-old sailor, a fit 25-year-old and somebody learning at 65 may be completely different.

5. Can I try several boats before buying anything?

This is perhaps the most important question of all.

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Please Don't Buy a Boat Too Soon

This takes us straight back to where this entire series began.

You do not need to arrive at a sailing club towing a boat behind your car.

Indeed, I would suggest that many beginners are better off not buying anything initially.

Join the club.

Borrow a buoyancy aid if the club provides them.

Use a club boat.

Crew for other sailors.

Try a single-hander.

Try a double-hander.

Try helming.

Try crewing.

See what you enjoy.

You may discover that the boat you thought you wanted is completely wrong for you.

Or you may discover an obscure 50-year-old class you had never heard of and absolutely love it.

That is one of the pleasures of club sailing.

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The Boat Matters Less Than the People Around You

After twenty lessons in this series, perhaps this is the most important lesson of all.

Learning to sail is not primarily an exercise in buying equipment.

It is an exercise in gaining experience.

A wonderfully expensive boat with nobody to teach you can be a dreadful place to begin.

A battered club training dinghy with an enthusiastic, patient and experienced sailor beside you can be one of the best boats you will ever sail.

That experienced sailor knows the local water.

They know what happens when the wind funnels around a particular building or line of trees.

They know which part of the river becomes shallow.

They know when conditions are becoming unsuitable.

And most importantly, they know when to let you make a mistake and when to intervene.

That cannot be specified on a boat manufacturer's website.

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From Your First Boat to Your Favourite Boat

Your first sailing boat probably will not be your last.

That is part of the adventure.

You might start in an Optimist.

Move into a Topper.

Crew a Wayfarer.

Helm a club training boat.

Race a Solo.

Race an OK or a Phantom.

Discover Merlin Rockets.

Try a National 14.

Move into keelboats.

Try coastal sailing.

Perhaps one day you will find yourself aboard an A-Rater wondering how something so elegant can contain quite so many ropes.

But none of that needs deciding today.

If you are standing beside a sailing club wondering which boat you need before you can begin, the answer may be wonderfully simple:

You probably don't need one at all.

Find a welcoming club.

Find somebody who knows what they are doing.

Borrow the boat they recommend.

Push away from the bank.

And start sailing.

Because the best beginner's boat is very often not the boat with the highest specification, the newest design or the most impressive sails.

It is the boat that gets you safely onto the water, gives you confidence and leaves you wanting to go sailing again next weekend.

 

Some of the Most Skilled Sailors Aren’t Holding the Tiller — Why the Crew Matters

Some of the most skilled sailors in a boat aren't holding the tiller.

One of the assumptions beginners often make is that the person sitting at the back with the tiller must be the "captain".

The helm steers the boat, so surely the helm is in charge and everybody else is simply helping?

Not necessarily.

In a well-sailed dinghy, the crew is not a passenger. The crew may be controlling one of the principal sails, helping to keep the boat balanced, looking for other boats, watching the wind, spotting tactical opportunities, moving body weight at precisely the right moment and communicating constantly with the helm.

On more complicated boats, the crew may also be dealing with a spinnaker, pole, trapeze, runners or other controls.

And on some boats there is more than one crew member.

My own sailing has reinforced this repeatedly. Much of my sailing is actually as crew rather than helm. On our RS Toura, one of my main jobs is controlling the jib.

I sometimes describe the jib as the boat's turbocharger.

It looks relatively small compared with the mainsail, but use it properly and you can very definitely feel its effect on the boat.

Then move into a boat such as an A-Rater and the division of jobs becomes more interesting again. There may be a helm, a forward crew and a midhand, with responsibilities shared between them. Depending on how the boat is organised, the midhand may have important sail-control responsibilities too.

Suddenly the idea that the person holding the tiller is doing everything becomes rather difficult to sustain.

The Helm Steers — But Sailing the Boat Is a Team Job

The tiller is visually obvious.

Move it and the boat changes direction.

That makes it easy for a newcomer to assume that steering is the most important job aboard.

But steering is only one part of keeping a sailing boat moving efficiently.

Imagine a helm trying to sail upwind while:

• the jib is badly set;

• the crew is sitting on the wrong side;

• nobody is watching for another boat approaching;

• nobody notices a gust coming down the river;

• the crew moves at the wrong moment during a tack;

• and nobody communicates.

The helm may have perfect control of the rudder and the boat can still be slow, unbalanced or unsafe.

Good sailing comes from several actions happening together.

The best crews often perform them so smoothly that an observer hardly notices.

Jib Control — Much More Than Pulling a Rope

The first obvious crew responsibility in many dinghies is the jib.

The jib is the smaller sail set forward of the mast.

A beginner can easily think:

"Pull it in until it looks tight."

Unfortunately, sail trim does not work quite like that.

The jib needs continually adjusting according to the direction in which the boat is sailing and the strength of the wind.

Sailing close-hauled, it will usually be sheeted relatively firmly.

As the boat bears away from the wind, it needs easing.

Sail onto the opposite tack and the old jib sheet must be released while the new one is brought in.

That sounds straightforward when written down.

Doing it smoothly while the boat is moving, the helm is turning, the boom is crossing and your own body needs to change sides is rather different.

Why I Think of the Jib as the Turbocharger

On the RS Toura, I particularly notice the difference good jib trim makes.

Get it badly wrong and the boat still sails.

Get it right and the entire boat seems to wake up.

The important thing is that the jib does not work independently of the mainsail.

Together, the two sails form an aerodynamic system.

The airflow around one affects the airflow around the other.

The gap between the jib and mainsail — often called the slot — therefore matters.

Pull the jib too tightly and you can restrict the airflow.

Leave it too loose and the sail loses its effective shape.

Trim it correctly and the sails begin working together.

That is why I like the turbocharger comparison.

The jib is not simply a little extra piece of cloth at the front.

Used properly, it contributes to the whole aerodynamic performance of the boat.

Watch the Tell-Tales

Many jibs have small pieces of wool, ribbon or other material attached to them.

These are tell-tales.

They give the crew an extraordinarily useful view of what the air is doing.

Rather than simply asking:

"Does the sail look right?"

you can look at the airflow.

If the windward and leeward tell-tales are streaming sensibly, the sail is probably working effectively.

If one begins lifting or behaving erratically, something needs changing.

That might mean adjusting the sheet.

But it can also tell you something about the boat's direction.

A good crew can therefore feed information back to the helm:

"You're pinching slightly."

"Come up a little."

"Ease away."

"That's good."

The crew has become part of the boat's feedback system.

The Crew Helps Balance the Boat

Sailing boats respond enormously to weight.

Where people sit matters.

If the wind increases and the boat begins heeling, crew weight can be moved outwards to help keep the boat flatter.

In lighter conditions, everybody may need to move inboard.

Move too far forward and the bow may be pushed unnecessarily into the water.

Move too far aft and the stern may drag.

In very light winds, surprisingly small movements can make a noticeable difference.

This is something beginners sometimes overlook because the rudder and sails seem to be the "controls".

Your body is a control too.

Why Keeping the Boat Flat Matters

A dinghy normally works best within a sensible range of heel.

Allow it to lean excessively and several things begin changing at once.

The shape presented by the sails changes.

The underwater shape changes.

The rudder becomes less efficient.

The helm may become heavier.

And eventually, of course, the boat may capsize.

The crew therefore has an important job helping control heel.

You are effectively using body weight to counter the turning effect created by the wind on the sails.

In stronger conditions, this can become quite physical.

On boats equipped with toe straps, you may hike your body further out.

On trapeze boats, the crew can go considerably further, effectively hanging outside the boat from a wire.

The principle, however, remains the same.

Use crew weight to help keep the boat in the attitude in which it sails best.

Moving at the Right Time

There is another important word here:

timing.

Moving your weight is useful.

Moving your weight at exactly the wrong moment can be surprisingly unhelpful.

During a tack, for example, both helm and crew must change sides.

Do it too early and you may interfere with the turn.

Do it too late and the boat may heel awkwardly on the new tack.

Good crews gradually develop an instinct for the rhythm of the boat.

Turn.

Release the old sheet.

Move.

Take the new sheet.

Balance.

Trim.

Settle.

Eventually, what initially felt like six separate jobs becomes one smooth movement.

The Crew Is Also a Lookout

There is another very important advantage to having more than one person aboard.

The helm cannot conveniently look everywhere at once.

The helm may be concentrating on:

• direction;

• sail trim;

• the next mark;

• the river bank;

• maintaining speed;

• or manoeuvring.

The crew can provide another pair of eyes.

That matters for both safety and racing.

The crew may spot:

• an approaching sailing boat;

• a powered vessel;

• a paddleboard;

• a swimmer;

• an obstruction;

• a shallow area;

• a gust;

• a mark;

• or something happening behind the boat.

A simple warning such as:

"Boat coming up behind us."

or

"Powerboat approaching from starboard."

can be enormously useful.

Good crews do not merely notice things.

They communicate useful information early enough for the helm to do something about it.

Communication — Neither Silence Nor Constant Commentary

Crew communication is an interesting skill in itself.

Too little information is a problem.

Too much information can be just as distracting.

Imagine somebody continuously saying:

"There's a boat there."

"Another boat over there."

"The wind looks different."

"There's somebody on the bank."

"We're getting close to that buoy."

Eventually the useful information disappears into the noise.

Good communication is concise and relevant.

For example:

"Gust coming in ten seconds."

That gives the helm time to prepare.

"Boat to leeward."

Useful positional information.

"Clear to tack."

Extremely useful if the helm cannot see everything behind the sail.

"Two boat lengths to the mark."

Useful in racing.

The crew becomes another source of information rather than another source of distraction.

The Crew Can See Wind the Helm Hasn't Reached Yet

One of the fascinating stages in learning to sail comes when you stop simply reacting to what the boat is doing and begin watching what is about to happen.

On inland water in particular, the wind can be variable.

Look across the surface and you may see darker patches of disturbed water.

A stronger patch of wind is approaching.

The crew may see it before the helm does.

"Gust coming."

Now both people can prepare.

The helm might adjust course or mainsheet.

The crew gets ready to move weight.

The jib may need adjustment.

Instead of being surprised by the gust, the boat sails through it deliberately.

That is one of the differences between merely being aboard a sailing dinghy and actually sailing it.

Tactical Eyes

Once you begin racing, the crew's observational role becomes even more important.

The helm cannot spend the entire race looking backwards and sideways.

The crew can.

You might watch:

• which side of the course appears windier;

• where other boats are gaining;

• whether a rival boat is approaching;

• whether you are likely to cross another boat;

• where the next mark is;

• whether the wind has shifted;

• whether there is clearer air elsewhere.

This does not mean the crew continuously tells the helm what to do.

A successful partnership develops a shared understanding.

The crew provides information.

The helm combines that information with what they are feeling through the boat.

Decisions are then made together.

"Can We Cross Them?"

Here is a good racing example.

You are sailing upwind on one tack.

Another boat is approaching on the opposite tack.

The helm is concentrating on keeping your boat fast.

The crew has a better view of the approaching boat.

The question becomes:

Are we going to cross ahead of them?

A good crew is watching the relative movement well before the two boats get close.

If the answer is obviously no, the helm has time to consider the alternatives.

Tack early?

Pass behind?

Alter the tactical plan?

That is much better than discovering the problem when the boats are suddenly only a few metres apart.

Again, the crew is not merely pulling the jib sheet.

The crew is helping sail the race.

More People Can Mean More Specialisation

Moving from something such as an RS Toura into a larger or more specialised racing dinghy makes this division of labour particularly interesting.

My experience with our A-Rater, Champagne, has made this increasingly apparent.

There is another crew position: the midhand.

Now the work can be divided further.

Rather than one person trying to deal with everything that is not the tiller, different people can concentrate on particular areas of boat performance.

In some arrangements, the midhand may have significant responsibility for the mainsail.

Another crew member may concentrate on forward controls.

The helm concentrates more heavily on steering, positioning and feeling what the boat is doing.

The important point for a beginner is not to memorise who pulls which rope on an A-Rater.

It is to recognise the principle:

As boats become more sophisticated, teamwork becomes more sophisticated too.

A Good Helm Relies on a Good Crew

There is sometimes a temptation to regard helming as progression.

Perhaps somebody starts as crew and thinks:

"Eventually I will be good enough to become the helm."

But that can completely misunderstand the nature of sailing.

Some people become exceptionally skilled crews.

They understand sail shape.

They anticipate manoeuvres.

They read the wind.

They communicate brilliantly.

They move effortlessly around the boat.

They make spinnaker handling look easy.

They can tell whether the boat is accelerating or slowing almost instinctively.

That is not an inferior level of sailing.

It is a different specialism.

Indeed, put an inexperienced crew alongside an excellent helm and the difference in performance can be dramatic.

And Then There Is the Spinnaker...

So far we have been discussing the jib.

Eventually, depending on the boat, another sail may appear.

The spinnaker.

Now things become considerably more entertaining.

The crew may need to:

• hoist it;

• control its sheets;

• manage a pole;

• keep it filled;

• adjust it continuously;

• prepare for a gybe;

• change sides;

• and eventually retrieve the whole lot again.

On an asymmetric-spinnaker boat there may also be a bowsprit and retrieval system.

On other boats there are conventional poles and separate controls.

Spinnaker work can look intimidating to somebody watching for the first time.

Like most sailing skills, however, it becomes manageable when divided into a sequence.

And that is a subject worth giving its own article later in this series.

A Practical Exercise for New Crews

If you are learning to crew, try one sailing session in which you deliberately concentrate on only four things.

1. Watch the jib

Look at its shape and tell-tales.

See what happens when you ease it.

See what happens when you sheet it harder.

2. Watch the boat's balance

Notice when the boat heels.

Move your weight and feel the effect.

3. Look outside the boat

Every few seconds, deliberately scan the water around you rather than staring at the ropes.

4. Talk to the helm

Mention genuinely useful things:

"Gust coming."

"Clear behind."

"Boat approaching."

"Jib looks good."

You will very quickly discover that you are not simply travelling in somebody else's boat.

You are helping sail it.

Learning to Crew May Actually Make You a Better Helm

There is another reason I think everybody should spend time crewing.

It teaches you what the other person needs.

If you have experienced trying to trim the jib while a helm makes an unexpected turn, you become rather better at warning your own crew before manoeuvring.

If you have struggled across the boat because a tack was badly timed, you begin to understand how important smooth steering is.

If you have been the person calling gusts, you appreciate how valuable that information is when you eventually take the tiller.

The best sailors understand more than their own position in the boat.

They understand how the entire team works.

Don't Rush to the Tiller

So if you visit a sailing club and somebody says:

"Would you like to come out as crew?"

don't think you have been offered the less important seat.

You may actually have been offered one of the best places from which to learn.

Watch the sails.

Feel the changes in pressure.

Notice what happens when you move your weight.

Look for gusts.

Watch the other boats.

Listen to the helm.

Ask questions.

And gradually you will discover something that experienced sailors already know:

The helm does not sail the boat alone.

The best boats are sailed by teams.

The person holding the tiller may decide where the boat points.

But the person beside them may be controlling its power, balance, awareness and speed.

And once a spinnaker appears, the helm may suddenly be very grateful indeed that somebody else knows what all those ropes are for.

Some of the most skilled sailors in a boat aren't holding the tiller.

Sometimes, they are the people making the person holding it look very good.

My name is Philip. I started sailing when I was 65. 

I joined a club and because my son had already been part of a club for many years - borrowing all types of boat. He knew what we needed and the type of boat I would require. 

So we did by an RS Toura - a virtually unsinkable dinghy which has given me the confidence to experiment and learn and take my RYA exams and become a competent sailor and then to move up to the boat of my dreams - the A-Rater.

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Coming Next in the Beginner Sailing Series

We turn full Circle. Which is the best boat to learn to sail in?

Optimist? Topper? Zest? Wayfarer? RS Toura? Keelboat?

Often, none of those answers matters as much as this:

The best beginner boat is the one your club has available, with someone competent beside you.

Return to https://pmrsailing.uk/Lessons.html

 

Your First Sailing Knots — Only Learn the Ones You Actually Need

You don't need to become a Victorian deckhand before you're allowed to sail.

Mention sailing to somebody who has never been in a dinghy and one of the things they often imagine is a bewildering collection of ropes, knots and mysterious nautical terminology.

They picture an experienced sailor producing an elaborate knot with one hand while casually saying something incomprehensible about a halyard, a shackle and the leeward runner.

It can make sailing appear much more complicated than it really is.

The good news is that when you first start sailing, you do not need to learn twenty knots.

You certainly do not need to sit at home memorising decorative knots from a book.

You need a handful of useful knots that solve real problems.

Start with these five:

• figure-eight;

• bowline;

• sheet bend;

• round turn and two half hitches;

• cleat hitch.

Learn what each one is for, practise each until your hands begin to remember it, and you will have covered a surprisingly large proportion of the knot-tying that a beginner actually needs.

First: A Rope Is Not Just a Rope

Before looking at the knots, there is one piece of sailing language worth understanding.

On a boat, ropes are usually named according to the job they are doing.

A rope used to control a sail may be called a sheet.

A rope used to raise a sail is generally a halyard.

There may also be control lines adjusting sail shape, centreboards, kickers, cunninghams and many other things as you move into more sophisticated boats.

But don't let the vocabulary put you off.

At the beginning, think:

What am I trying to achieve with this piece of rope?

Do I want to stop the end disappearing through a fitting?

Do I want a secure loop?

Do I want to join two ropes?

Do I want to attach a rope to something?

Do I want to secure it to a cleat?

Once you think about knots in terms of jobs rather than names, the whole subject becomes much easier.

1. The Figure-Eight — The Knot That Stops the Rope Disappearing

The figure-eight is probably one of the simplest useful knots you can learn.

Its main job is to act as a stopper knot.

Imagine a sheet running through a fairlead or block. If the end of that sheet is pulled all the way through, retrieving it may become inconvenient — particularly when you are already sailing.

Put a figure-eight in the end and the knot is too large to pass through.

That is its job.

Simple.

Where Might You Use It?

A common beginner example is the end of a jib sheet.

You do not necessarily want the sheet escaping completely through its fittings when somebody lets go of it.

A stopper knot can prevent that.

It is also useful on many control lines where there is a danger of the free end vanishing through a hole, block or fairlead.

Why a Figure-Eight Rather Than Just Any Knot?

You could tie an ordinary overhand knot.

But a figure-eight produces a larger stopper and is normally easier to untie afterwards, particularly if the rope has been loaded.

That is an important principle in sailing knots.

A good knot is not simply one that stays tied.

Often it must also be possible to untie it later.

Beginner Practice

Take a short piece of rope.

Tie ten figure-eights.

Untie them.

Then try again without looking at your hands all the time.

The aim is not speed.

The aim is familiarity.

Eventually your fingers begin to recognise the movement.

2. The Bowline — A Fixed Loop That Doesn't Tighten Around the Object

If there is one sailing knot almost everybody has heard of, it is probably the bowline.

Its purpose is to make a fixed loop in the end of a rope.

The important word is fixed.

Pull on the rope and the loop should not simply close tighter and tighter like a noose.

That makes the bowline enormously useful.

The Famous Rabbit Story

Many people learn the bowline with some variation of:

The rabbit comes out of the hole, goes around the tree and goes back down the hole.

The "rabbit" is the working end.

The "hole" is the small loop you form.

The "tree" is the standing part of the rope.

It sounds slightly childish.

It also works remarkably well as a memory aid.

Eventually you stop thinking about rabbits altogether and simply tie the knot.

Where Might You Use a Bowline?

A bowline can be useful whenever you need a secure loop around something.

For example, you might need to attach a line to a fitting, create a loop for temporary use, or secure something without the loop continually tightening.

Exactly how it is used depends upon the boat.

The important beginner lesson is to recognise the problem:

I need a loop that stays approximately the same size.

That should make you think:

Bowline.

The Beginner's Bowline Problem

One of the great things about a bowline is that, once understood, it becomes remarkably easy to tie.

Before that point it can seem completely baffling.

The most common problem is constructing the first small loop incorrectly.

Make the initial loop the wrong way round and everything that follows looks almost right — but isn't.

This is where learning from another sailor is much better than simply looking at a diagram.

Ask somebody at the club to show you.

Then immediately tie it yourself.

Then undo it and tie it again.

Watching somebody tie ten bowlines will not teach your fingers how to tie one.

3. The Sheet Bend — Joining Two Ropes Together

Sometimes the problem is not attaching a rope to a boat.

It is attaching one rope to another rope.

That is where the sheet bend becomes useful.

It is particularly valuable when the ropes are not exactly the same diameter.

Why Not Simply Tie Any Two Knots Together?

Because different knots behave differently when loaded.

Some jam.

Some slip.

Some are much less secure when the ropes are of different thicknesses.

The sheet bend is designed for joining two lines.

The name is another reminder that knots developed because sailors repeatedly encountered particular practical problems.

A Useful Way to Recognise It

One rope forms a bight — essentially a U-shaped bend.

The other rope comes through the bight, around the back and then tucks beneath itself.

When finished correctly, the two short ends should normally emerge on the same side of the knot.

That final check is useful when learning.

A Practical Example

Suppose you have a short line that does not quite reach where you need it.

You have another length of rope available, but it is slightly thinner.

Joining them with a sheet bend may solve the immediate problem.

You may not use a sheet bend every five minutes when dinghy sailing.

That does not make it obscure.

It is one of those knots worth knowing because, when you need to join two lines, you immediately have the correct tool available.

4. Round Turn and Two Half Hitches — Securing a Boat to Something Solid

Now imagine coming alongside a pontoon or needing to secure a line around a post, ring or similar fixed object.

A very useful knot for this job is the round turn and two half hitches.

The name also describes what you do.

First make a round turn around the object.

Then secure the line with two half hitches.

Why the Round Turn Matters

The round turn is doing more than simply going around the object.

It helps take some of the load.

That can make the remaining part of the knot easier to control and secure.

This becomes particularly obvious when there is already some tension on the rope.

Instead of trying to tie a knot while fighting the entire pull of the boat, the turn around the post helps you manage that force.

Where Might You Use It?

It can be useful when attaching a line to:

• a post;

• a ring;

• a rail;

• a mooring point;

• another suitable fixed object.

It is straightforward, strong for many everyday sailing jobs and relatively easy to understand.

A Very Good Practice Exercise

You do not need a boat.

Use:

• a chair leg;

• a railing;

• a broom handle held securely;

• a suitable post in the garden.

Tie the knot.

Undo it.

Tie it again.

Then imagine there is tension on the rope and notice how the round turn helps you control it.

That little experiment teaches more than simply memorising the pattern.

5. The Cleat Hitch — One You Will Use Again and Again

If you are going sailing, learn how to use a cleat properly.

Cleats appear everywhere on boats and pontoons.

They are designed to allow a line to be secured quickly and released again relatively easily.

But there is a correct way of doing it.

The Basic Pattern

Bring the rope around the base of the cleat.

Cross diagonally over it.

Continue around to form the familiar figure-of-eight pattern.

Finish with a locking turn.

The exact appearance becomes obvious once somebody demonstrates it on a real cleat.

The Mountain of Rope Problem

One beginner reaction to a cleat is understandable:

More turns must make it more secure.

So they wrap the rope around it.

Then around it again.

Then again.

Eventually the cleat disappears beneath a small mountain of rope.

This is not better.

A properly tied cleat hitch needs relatively few turns.

The aim is secure, neat and easy to release.

Not sculpture.

Practise on a Real Cleat

This is one knot where having an actual cleat makes learning much easier.

If your sailing club has training boats, practise tying and releasing the line while the boat is stationary.

Notice how quickly an experienced sailor does it.

There is no frantic knot tying.

The rope simply follows the correct path.

That fluency comes from repetition.

Don't Try to Learn Them All in One Sitting

This is perhaps the most important lesson.

You don't need to learn five knots on Monday and be examined on them on Tuesday.

Learn them as you encounter the need for them.

A useful progression might be:

Figure-eight → cleat hitch → bowline → round turn and two half hitches → sheet bend

The exact order does not matter very much.

What matters is connecting the knot to a real purpose.

If somebody simply tells you:

"Learn a bowline."

you are trying to remember a collection of movements.

If somebody says:

"We need a fixed loop here, so we're going to use a bowline."

you are learning both the knot and the reason it exists.

That knowledge tends to stick.

Learn the Shape of a Correct Knot

Beginners quite reasonably concentrate on the sequence of movements.

But there is another skill worth developing:

Learn what the finished knot should look like.

Then inspect it.

Does your bowline actually resemble the bowline you were shown?

Are both parts of the sheet bend sitting correctly?

Is the cleat hitch neat?

Is the figure-eight properly formed?

Experienced sailors often recognise an incorrectly tied knot at a glance.

That visual checking is worth developing from the beginning.

Practise with Proper Rope

You can practise with almost anything, but a short length of reasonably soft rope makes the process far more pleasant.

Keep perhaps a metre or two somewhere convenient.

While watching television, having a cup of tea or sitting at a desk, practise one knot several times.

You do not need a complicated training board.

Although, if you enjoy making things, a small board with a cleat, ring and short post makes an excellent home knot-practice station.

The important thing is repetition.

Don't Worry About Speed

There is no prize for producing the world's fastest bowline during your first sailing lesson.

Tie it slowly.

Understand where the rope goes.

Check the finished knot.

Then do it again.

Speed appears naturally.

The real breakthrough occurs when you stop thinking:

"Now I make this loop, then put this through here..."

and simply tie the knot.

Your hands have begun to learn it.

Knots Make Much More Sense on a Real Boat

I think this is one reason newcomers are sometimes unnecessarily intimidated by knots.

Taken out of context, knot tying can look like a collection of puzzles.

Put the same knot onto a sailing boat and suddenly there is a reason for it.

The sheet must not disappear through the fairlead.

Figure-eight.

You need a fixed loop.

Bowline.

Two pieces of rope need joining.

Sheet bend.

The boat needs securing to a suitable post or ring.

Round turn and two half hitches.

A line needs securing to a cleat.

Cleat hitch.

The mystery disappears.

You are simply choosing the right tool for the job.

Ask Sailors to Show You

One of the advantages of learning through a sailing club is that you are surrounded by people who already know these things.

If you forget a bowline, ask somebody.

If your cleat hitch looks suspicious, ask somebody to check it.

Nobody started sailing already knowing how to do this.

And most experienced sailors would much rather have a beginner say:

"Can you check this knot?"

than quietly hope that an incorrectly tied knot holds.

That is part of learning to sail.

Five Knots Are Enough to Get Started

There are hundreds of knots.

There are entire books devoted to them.

You may eventually enjoy learning rolling hitches, reef knots, clove hitches, anchor bends, splices and all sorts of other ropework.

Some sailors become genuinely fascinated by it.

But that comes later.

For your first sailing adventures, concentrate on five:

Figure-eight — stops the end of the rope disappearing.

Bowline — creates a fixed loop.

Sheet bend — joins two ropes.

Round turn and two half hitches — secures a rope around something.

Cleat hitch — secures a rope to a cleat.

More importantly, learn why you are using each one.

That is the difference between memorising knots and becoming a sailor.

You don't need to become a Victorian deckhand before you're allowed to sail.

You just need enough ropework to solve the problems immediately in front of you.

And, like almost everything else in sailing, the best way to learn is not to read about it endlessly.

Get hold of a piece of rope.

Find somebody who knows what they are doing.

And start tying.

Five useful knots. Five simple jobs. That's more than enough to begin.

My name is Philip. I started sailing when I was 65. 

I joined a club and because my son had already been part of a club for many years - borrowing all types of boat. He knew what we needed and the type of boat I would require. 

So we did by an RS Toura - a virtually unsinkable dinghy which has given me the confidence to experiment and learn and take my RYA exams and become a competent sailor and then to move up to the boat of my dreams - the A-Rater.

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Coming Next in the Beginner Sailing Series

Beginners often assume the person holding the tiller is "the captain".

But the crew may be trimming the jib, balancing the boat, spotting gusts, watching traffic, calling tactics — and later controlling the spinnaker.

Some of the most skilled sailors aboard aren't holding the tiller.

Return to https://pmrsailing.uk/Lessons.html