Knot of the Week: The Bowline – The King of Knots

If there is one knot every sailor should know, it is the bowline. It is often called “the king of knots”, and for good reason. Once tied, it forms a strong fixed loop that will not slip or tighten under load, yet it can still be untied easily afterwards — even after taking a heavy strain.

That makes the bowline incredibly useful on a sailing boat. Whether you are attaching a rope to a ring, forming a loop around a post, or securing a line quickly, the bowline is reliable, simple, and trusted by sailors for centuries.

When learning to sail at the Upper Thames Sailing Club, this is one of the knots that quickly becomes second nature. In fact, after tying it a few dozen times while rigging boats or securing lines, your hands almost begin to tie it automatically.

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How to Tie a Bowline

Sailors traditionally remember the steps using a little story:

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

Make a small loop in the rope (this is the “rabbit hole”).

Pass the working end up through the loop.

Take it around the standing part of the rope (the “tree”).

Pass it back down through the loop.

Pull everything tight.

The result is a secure loop that will not tighten when the rope is pulled.

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Why Sailors Love the Bowline

The bowline has several properties that make it ideal for sailing:

• Creates a fixed loop that does not slip

• Strong and reliable under load

• Easy to untie after being heavily loaded

• Quick to tie once practiced

These qualities explain why the bowline appears everywhere in sailing — from dinghies to tall ships.

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Common Uses on a Sailing Boat

You will often see a bowline used to:

• Tie a mooring line to a ring or post

• Attach a sheet to a sail

• Create a temporary loop in a rope

• Secure a boat to a pontoon or jetty

On small dinghies, it is often used when attaching ropes that need a permanent loop.

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A Tip From the River Thames

When sailing on a river such as the Thames, things often need to happen quickly — especially when approaching a jetty or mooring in a current. Having a bowline already tied in the end of a rope makes it very easy to drop the loop over a post or cleat in seconds.

It is one of those small sailing skills that quietly makes life on the water much easier.

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Final Thought

Many sailors say:

“If you don’t know how to tie a knot, tie a lot.”

And the bowline is a perfect place to start.

Tie it a few dozen times while watching television, and before long it will become second nature — just like it does for sailors everywhere.

Why Thames A-Raters are the fastest dinghies on the River Thames (and why I want one)

 

Why Thames A-Raters are the fastest dinghies on the River Thames (and why I want one)

If you’ve ever been bimbling along on the Thames, feeling rather pleased with yourself because the boat is upright and nobody has fallen out, and then a Thames A-Rater goes past… you’ll know the sensation.

It’s a bit like being overtaken by a grand piano on rollerskates.

So what is an A-Rater, why are they so ridiculously quick on a river?

1) The “rule” that accidentally created a monster

A-Raters come from an old “rating rule” approach to racing, where the boat’s rating was basically calculated from waterline length and sail area—and that was largely it. Designers were given loads of freedom everywhere else.

Freedom + competitive sailors + the Thames = boats that are optimised like racing greyhounds.

Modern class rules still bake in the key performance ingredients: a maximum sail area (excluding spinnaker) of 350 sq ft, and on the Thames no spinnaker—because the river is narrow, twisty, and lined with things that enjoy eating rigs.
And the class parameters often quoted include a maximum mast height around 43 ft and a minimum weight around 750 lb (340 kg).

Translation: big rig, long boat, light enough to fly, built to go fast in the conditions we actually sail in.

2) Long waterline = fast “easy speed”

Even before the planing party starts, length matters. A longer waterline tends to mean a higher potential hull speed (and generally better speed through lulls). On the river, where you’re constantly dealing with shifting pressure, headers, and the occasional wind that appears to be coming from the direction of Slough, that “easy speed” is gold.

A-Raters are commonly described as around 27 ft long with towering rigs.
So while the rest of us are busy negotiating with physics, the A-Rater is already halfway to the next bend looking smug.

3) Sail area that looks slightly illegal (but isn’t)

Put simply: they carry a lot of sail for their weight.
That means acceleration—proper, shove-you-in-the-back acceleration.

On a river, acceleration matters more than people think, because you’re constantly changing mode:

• accelerating out of a tack

• punching through a lull

• dodging a hole behind trees

• then accelerating again because the wind has decided to move house

A-Raters are basically built for that stop-start, bendy-river reality.

4) Hull shape made for river sailing (and occasional flight)

These boats have a specialist Thames heritage and a design lineage tied to the conditions at places like Thames Sailing Club and Upper Thames.
They’re often described as scow-hulled with a metal centreplate, and famously quick—able to plane readily, but also technically demanding when it’s breezy.

That “scow + big rig” combination is a lovely cheat code:

• powerful in light to medium airs

• stable enough to carry that sail plan

• and when the breeze is on, they can pick up and go properly fast

5) The Thames factor: narrow, shifty, and full of surprises

If you designed a boat purely for steady sea breeze and open water, it might be brilliant… somewhere else.

But on the Thames:

• the wind bends around trees, houses, bridges, and moored boats

• the course can be tight, tactical, and full of rapid manoeuvres

• and you need boats that can keep moving through chaos

A-Raters were born in exactly this environment and refined over generations. That’s why they look like they belong in a sepia photograph… right up until they light up and leave everything else looking parked.

6) Why I want one (the honest bit)

There are sensible reasons, and there are the real reasons.

Sensible reasons:

• They’re a living piece of Thames sailing history (and still actively raced).

• They are, genuinely, among the most exciting boats you’ll see on the river—fast, elegant, and technical.

• There’s a proper community around them, with sailing at places close to me (including Upper Thames Sailing Club).

Real reasons:

• They look magnificent. Not “nice boat” magnificent. More “Victorian engineering meets modern adrenaline problem” magnificent.

• I like learning things that are hard. And A-Raters are described as technically highly challenging when it’s above moderate wind.

• Deep down, I want to experience that moment when you get it right—trim set, plate set, balance right—and the boat just… releases and goes.

Also, let’s be honest: if you’ve spent any time at Upper Thames watching A-Raters, at some point you start thinking:
“I could do that.”
This is the exact same thought process that leads people to buy paddleboards, telescopes, and bread makers.

7) The “small print” (aka: why this is a long-term dream)

A-Raters are not “buy one and go for a casual potter” boats. They’re typically sailed with a crew of three, and they demand teamwork and practice.
They also have serious rigs, serious loads, and serious consequences if you treat them casually.

So yes, I want one. But I also want to earn one:

• more river racing experience

• more boat handling time in breeze

• more time understanding what makes fast boats fast (and what makes them suddenly not)

In other words: I’m not in a rush. I’m just… planning. Constantly. Loudly. In public.

8) If you want to fall down the A-Rater rabbit hole

I’ve gathered more background, history, and boat info here:https://pmrsailing.uk/Raters/Rater-Boat-Info.html
And if you want the broader class/association side (including “try a rater” days), the Thames A-Rater Association is the place to start or come to the Upper Thames Open Days where you can go out in a Rater and see for yourself.

AYRS: Today’s “experimental” boats… tomorrow’s standard kit

One of the original Experimental boats - Vagabond, first with a trapeeze.

AYRS: Today’s “experimental” boats… tomorrow’s standard kit

If you ever want proof that sailing’s future is built by people who refuse to leave “well enough alone”, allow me to introduce the Amateur Yacht Research Society (AYRS) — proudly flying the flag for practical tinkering and slightly bonkers ideas that (annoyingly) keep turning out to be right. Their website strapline is basically “where the ideas are”, which is both inspiring and faintly dangerous to anyone who owns a toolbox and has access to epoxy.

What I love is the AYRS attitude: experimental doesn’t mean “daft”. It means testable. Measurable. Arguable over a cup of tea (or something stronger) with diagrams on the back of an envelope. And history keeps repeating itself: the things that look odd at first—new hull shapes, foils, rigs, control systems—have a habit of turning up a few years later as “best practice”… and then ten minutes after that as “class rules”. (If you listen carefully, you can hear the sound of older sailors muttering, “I told you so,” across the boat park.)

The AYRS homepage has a glorious snapshot from Weymouth Speed Week 2022, where the “boats” were back—real boats, not just boards and wings—and the line-up reads like a sci-fi casting call. SailRocket on the hardstanding, Icarus (James Grogono’s pioneering foiling catamaran) back on the water and sailing nicely on her foils, plus Kyle Stoneham’s Vampire Project boat described as very fast—even beating the board sailors on a light-wind day. And then there’s “Vari-Scari”, because of course there is.

Here’s the bit that matters for the rest of us mere mortals pottering about on rivers and club waters: the trickle-down is real. Today’s speed-week oddity becomes tomorrow’s “why wouldn’t you?” fitting. Hydrofoils? Once experimental, now mainstream in whole corners of the sport. Rigs and sail aero? The sort of thing you’d once expect from an America’s Cup shed… now discussed in ordinary sailing circles with alarming confidence. That’s what AYRS does well: it gathers the experiments, publishes the thinking, and makes it easier for good ideas to spread without everyone having to reinvent the same wheel (or foil) from scratch.

If you fancy a deep dive, AYRS also has a huge back-catalogue of downloadable booklets covering things like catamarans, hydrofoils, sails & aerofoils, dinghy design, sailboat testing, yacht wind tunnels, and more—proper rabbit-hole material for anyone who enjoys going to bed thinking about lift/drag ratios and waking up wondering if their boat could benefit from “just one small modification”. (Famous last words.)

So yes: today’s experimental boats really can be the standard for tomorrow’s boats. And whether you’re racing, cruising, or learning on the Thames like me, it’s a reassuring thought: sailing doesn’t stand still—it simply gets tested, argued about, improved, and then quietly copied. If you want a peek at what might be coming next, AYRS is a very good place to start. 

Where to sail in the early spring Rivers, sea or lakes.

 Early spring sailing is brilliant… and slightly masochistic. The winds can be punchy, the sunshine is optimistic rather than reliable, and the water is often at its coldest—which is why “I’ll just hop in and sort it out” is a terrible life choice. The RYA notes cold water shock is a serious risk in water below about 15°C, and spring water temps are often at their lowest.

Rivers (good if you want shelter and lots of “practice”)

Best for: dinghies and small boats, short sessions, skills (tacking, river tactics, boat handling).
Why spring works: the banks take the edge off the wind and you can sail even when the sea is a bit grim.

But… spring rivers can be lively. On the Thames, stream conditions can change quickly, and the Environment Agency uses warning boards advising unpowered boats not to navigate in stronger flows—plus weirs/sluices are hazardous.
So rivers are great when conditions are normal, and “character building” when the stream is up.

Spring river win: sheltered, familiar waters, quick bail-out options (tea in the clubhouse).
Spring river risk: strong stream, debris, cold water, and the temptation to cut corners near weirs (don’t).

Sea (best for big skies… pick sheltered water first)

Best for: keelboats/yachts, more confident dinghy sailors, anyone wanting longer passages.
In early spring, the smart move is sheltered coastal sailing: harbours, estuaries, and inshore waters where you can tuck in if it turns spicy.

Examples that suit early season “let’s ease back in” sailing:

• Chichester Harbour: naturally sheltered, plenty of water to explore, but it’s tidal—so passage planning matters.

• Other rivers/estuaries can be superb early season cruising grounds because they’re more protected than open sea coasts.

Spring sea win: consistent wind, proper sailing miles, glorious light for photos.
Spring sea risk: colder water, bigger consequences, tides/currents, and the “one more reach” that becomes a 3-hour epic.

Lakes & reservoirs (the early-season sweet spot for clubs and training)

Best for: club sailing, racing, training sessions, family sailing, predictable logistics.
This is where a lot of UK sailing really gets going in spring—clubs run early-season open meetings and you’ve got rescue cover, hot showers, and a café that understands you.

Think Grafham Water / Rutland Water / similar big reservoirs: plenty of room, organised sailing, and you’re not fighting a tide. (You may still fight the wind and your own rigging decisions.)

Spring lake win: controlled environment, safety boat cover, easy “one more lap”.
Spring lake risk: gusts funneling across open water, and water that is still absolutely freezing.

Quick rule-of-thumb for early spring

• Newer sailor / rusty skills? → Lake/reservoir first, river second, sea once you’ve got your systems back.

• Confident crew + good kit + good forecast? → Sheltered sea/estuary is a joy.

• If the river’s on strong stream boards → choose a lake (or the pub, which is also sheltered).

Kit & safety (the boring bit that keeps you alive)

• Dress for immersion (cold water shock is the early danger, not “getting a bit chilly later”).

• Check local river condition boards / notices if you’re on the Thames system.

• Tell someone your plan, keep sessions shorter, and keep the “capsize plan” simple.

 

Race scoring at the club: pen-and-paper or iPads and phones?

There’s a special kind of romance to race scoring with a clipboard: the wind flaps the paper, the pencil refuses to write because it’s damp, and someone shouts “SAIL NUMBER 42!” while you’re busy trying to stop the results sheet making a bid for freedom. It’s traditional. It’s character-building. It’s also the reason half of us have handwriting that looks like a seismograph during an earthquake.

So… should we keep the clipboard and carbon paper, or move to iPads/phones and let the gadgets do the heavy lifting?

What pen-and-paper still does brilliantly

1) It always works. No Wi-Fi. No battery. No “app update required”.
2) It’s fast for the basics. If you’re recording simple finish order for a small fleet, a decent results sheet and a competent scribe is hard to beat.
3) It’s transparent. Anyone can see what was written down, when, and by whom.

But paper has two enemies: water and humans. Water turns your ink into modern art; humans transpose sail numbers, miss a boat, forget a code (DNF/DNS/OCS), or drop a sheet overboard at the precise moment you finally got it right.

What phones and tablets do brilliantly

Used well, digital scoring is less “fancy tech” and more “fewer late-night re-checks”.

1) Fewer transcription errors. You enter once, not twice (on the water → then again into a computer later).
2) Results can appear immediately. Some systems publish online as soon as you hit “save”, which is great for keen racers and even better for impatient ones. HalSail, for example, is designed for entering results on any device and seeing them online straight away.
3) Handy scoring rules. Proper race-scoring software handles series scoring, discards, codes, ties, and multiple scoring systems without needing someone who “knows Excel”. Sailwave explicitly supports configurable scoring systems and is self-contained (no Excel required).

The hidden gotchas with going digital

Digital isn’t automatically better; it’s better when the system is set up for real race-day life:

• Screen + sunlight + wet fingers can be a comedy trio.

• Battery anxiety is real (especially on cold days).

• One person who knows the system is a single point of failure.

• Connectivity can be patchy (committee boat / far end of the river).

If you choose an online-first tool, look for an approach that still works sensibly when signal is weak (or have a paper fallback).

A very sensible middle way (my favourite): “Belt-and-braces scoring”

For most clubs, the sweet spot is:

On the water: record finish order/times on paper and enter into a phone/tablet if practical.
Ashore: publish from the digital system, but keep the paper sheet as the audit trail.

This gives you:

• resilience (paper backup),

• speed (digital publishing),

• and fewer “we’ll fix it later” moments.

Practical tool options that clubs actually use

Here are three common “levels”, from simplest to more feature-rich:

1) Start simple (desktop/laptop after racing): Sailwave
Great if you’re happy entering results ashore and want robust series scoring and publishing support. Sailwave is designed as dedicated scoring software and doesn’t require Excel.

2) Online scoring and quick publishing: HalSail
Designed to run in a browser on phones/tablets/laptops, with immediate online results and even “on the water” entry options.

3) Free Windows program (offline): Hal’s Race Results
A downloadable Windows option if you want to keep everything local/offline, with the online option available separately via HalSail.

A quick decision guide for your club

Choose paper-first if:

• small fleets, informal racing, minimal series complexity,

• lots of volunteers rotating through duty,

• you want maximum robustness with minimum training.

Choose digital-first if:

• multiple fleets, pursuit races, handicap maths, discards, championships,

• you regularly publish results and want them quickly,

• you’re tired of retyping everything after racing.

Choose hybrid if:

• you want speed and certainty,

• you often have new volunteers on duty,

• you race in conditions where screens and signal are… optimistic.

A tiny checklist if you do go digital

• One device is dedicated to scoring (not also taking photos of “that capsize”).

• Power bank + charging cable live in the race box.

• Waterproof case or zip pouch.

• A printed “how to” sheet for the scoring workflow.

• Paper backup sheet always on hand (because sailing)

 

Using pulleys to change rope tensions (without growing biceps the size of fenders)

There’s a moment in every sailor’s life when you pull on a rope with all your dignity, and the boat replies by doing… absolutely nothing. That’s when you discover the ancient maritime truth:

If you can’t pull harder, add a pulley.
(Preferably two. Or six. Sailors love pulleys the way photographers love lenses.)

Pulleys on boats are usually called blocks. And the reason we use them is simple: they let you trade pulling force for pulling distance. You don’t get something for nothing — unless you’re counting friction, which you absolutely are, because friction always turns up uninvited.

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The core idea: mechanical advantage (a.k.a. “purchase”)

When you rig a rope through blocks, you can make a system where your pulling force is multiplied.

• A 2:1 purchase means: you pull with half the force, but twice the rope.

• A 4:1 purchase means: quarter the force, four times the rope.

It’s like gearing on a bike. Easy gear = more pedalling, less pain.

Rule of thumb:
✅ Mechanical advantage ≈ number of rope parts supporting the moving block
(If you’re staring at a spaghetti rig and muttering “how many bits of rope are holding that thing up?”, you’re doing it correctly.)

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A quick tour: 1:1, 2:1, 3:1, 4:1 (and why sailors keep going)

1:1 (no advantage)

You pull. The sail moves. You feel strong. The boat giggles.

2:1 (the “ohhh, that’s better” setup)

One moving block attached to the thing you’re hauling (boom, sail, etc.). Rope goes from a fixed point → around the moving block → to your hand.

You pull 2 metres of rope to move the load 1 metre, but it feels about half as heavy (minus friction).

3:1 (when you want more help but still want to rig it before tea)

Often used in cunning ways (hello, cunningham and kicker/vang systems). It’s a common “enough power without needing a degree in macramé” setup.

4:1 (dinghy control lines’ comfort zone)

Very common on mainsheet systems, kickers, outhauls, and downhauls on modern dinghies — especially when you’d rather adjust sail shape than do a deadlift.

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“But why doesn’t my 4:1 feel like 4:1?”

Because friction is the taxman of sailing systems.

Every time the rope:

• bends around a sheave,

• rubs on a cheek block,

• goes through a cleat,

• or runs at a weird angle…

…you lose efficiency. A theoretical 4:1 might feel like 3:1 (or 2.5:1 on a tired, salty Tuesday).

How to reduce friction:

• Use decent ball-bearing blocks where it matters

• Keep leads fair (straight-ish)

• Use the right rope diameter for the sheaves

• Replace furry, flattened lines (yes, it’s emotionally difficult)

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Distance vs force: the trade you’re making

If you rig more purchase:

• ✅ Easier to pull

• ❌ More rope to pull in

• ❌ More rope in the cockpit (also known as “tripwire collection”)

• ❌ More blocks, more friction, more things to rattle and mock you

So the “best” system is usually the one that’s:

• powerful enough to adjust under load,

• simple enough to rig when it’s cold,

• tidy enough that you don’t accidentally tie yourself to the boat.

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Real boat examples (where you’ll actually meet these systems)

• Mainsheet: often 3:1 to 6:1 in dinghies (higher in bigger boats), sometimes with ratchet blocks to reduce hand load.

• Kicker/Vang: commonly 4:1 to 12:1 (often cascaded) so you can control leech tension without turning into a gym membership.

• Cunningham/Downhaul: frequently 2:1 to 6:1 because sail cloth doesn’t care about your feelings.

• Outhaul: 4:1 is common on modern rigs.

• Jib sheets: usually 1:1 (you need speed), but sometimes assisted by winches on bigger boats.

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Bonus: cascades (when you want power without a tower of blocks)

A cascade is basically purchases stacked together, like:

• a 2:1 pulling a 4:1 to make 8:1 overall.

It keeps things compact and can reduce the number of blocks travelling up and down the boat like a lift system in a shopping centre.

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A tiny practical “spot the purchase” trick

If you’re on the bank (or in the boat) and want to estimate the purchase:

1. Find the moving part (the block attached to the boom/sail/control).

2. Count how many rope segments are pulling that moving bit.

3. That’s roughly your mechanical advantage.

Then subtract a bit for friction and optimism.

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The sensible conclusion (and a mildly heroic one)

Pulleys don’t create free energy — they create options. They let you adjust sail controls precisely, repeatedly, and without needing to ask your crew to “just hang on a sec while I grunt at this rope.”

And if anyone tells you adding another block is cheating, remind them that sailing is 90% applied physics and 10% trying not to drop things in the river.

 

Sailing Term: Downhaul (the “make the sail behave” rope)

If your sail looks like it’s trying to cosplay as a baggy bedsheet, the downhaul is one of the controls that helps you restore dignity.

Definition (plain English):
A downhaul is a line (sometimes a simple rope, sometimes a fancy little purchase system) used to adjust tension along the luff — the leading edge of the sail. On many dinghies it’s doing the same job people often call the cunningham: tightening the front of the sail to change its shape.

What it actually does on the water:

• Pull it on (more tension): flattens the sail, moves the draft forward, and helps in stronger winds (less drag, less heeling, fewer “why are we lying down?” moments).

• Ease it (less tension): allows a fuller sail shape for lighter winds (more power when the breeze is feeling shy).

Where it matters most:

• Upwind: when sail shape is everything and boatspeed is a jealous god.

• Reefing (mainsail): helps pull the sail down and keep things tidy when you reduce sail area.

https://pmrsailing.uk/sailing-lessons/sailing-terms-list/Downhaul.html