Dick and I discuss sailing our small boats into the wind

I sail. I sail a small wooden boat I built in my garage. People who sail always make a muddle out of explaining how to do it. My friend Dick Bell noticed that his boat sails into the wind better than with the wind pushing from behind. He asked if that was normal. He doesn't think it makes any sense. I answered, “Yes, Dick, most boats don’t sail downwind well, small or large. I’ve never been on a boat that sailed more effectively with the wind from behind. Many people will agree that a larger boat, 22’-40,’ is sluggish and unresponsive when sailing with a following wind.” Dick replied, “Go on.”

I know it seems surprising but sailing downwind, on a run, is the least efficient way of moving over water under sail power. I’ve never read a good explanation of why, so I’ll attempt to write one. Someone, please let me know how good of a job I do. When I explained this to Dick he responded, “I’ve never heard someone make so much sense in such a short amount of time.” But my friend Dick possesses a sarcastic proclivity.

Here it goes: When you sail with the wind from behind the wind pushes the boat forward and the sail is close to perpendicular in relation to the hull. So, while the wind fills the sail and moves the boat forward, at the same time the entire area of the wind filled sail pushes forward, creating resistance and slowing the actual onward progress.

When sailing with the wind coming over the side of the boat, the sail is close to parallel to the overall length of the hull. This is called a beam reach. In that instance, the wind is actually pushing the boat sideways. So you might ask, then why do I move forward?

The reason is the centerboard. It’s a thin piece of wood or fiberglass extending into the water two to three feet below the bottom of the center of the boat. If you kept the sail parallel to the length of the hull and lifted up your centerboard you would move sideways rather than forward. If we were on a barstool I’d draw a picture on a napkin.

The reason your boat moves forward when the wind is coming over the side is because the centerboard digs into the water. With the submerged centerboard your boat is no longer simply resting on the surface of the water. You’ve got like three feet of resistance below the surface of the water. This resistance transfers the sideways motion of the wind into forward motion.

The centerboard alone won’t move you forward; you need a rudder to extend almost as deep as the leeboard. While the leeboard digs into the water and helps the boat move forward, the wind still does move the boat sideways, just not as dramatically. The rudder keeps the boat steering into the wind and maintains the delicate wind, sail, hull moving forward balance. You’ll notice when you’re sailing with the wind coming over the left (port) side the tiller, stick that you steer the rudder with, is never aligned with the middle of the boat if you want to sail straight. Rather the tiller will be pushed toward the right (starboard) side, which means you’re steering back towards the left to compensate for the sideways pushing of your boat. The same principal applies when the wind comes from the starboard side. You’ll also notice that you’re never holding the tiller and sheet, rope that moves the sail, in the same location. There’s a constant fiddling that keeps everything working well and the boat moving where you want her to go.

What I’ve written above holds true for sailing when the wind is from any other direction other than directly behind. When the wind is coming from directly behind (which we agreed isn’t the best way to sail) you don’t even need the leeboard. You can lift it up and rely on the rudder alone to steer and keep you moving straight. I’ve done it for kicks. If you had a GPS device you’d see a slight increase in speed, but who cares when you’re me and sail to kill time and not distance.

As further proof of all I’ve written above, when you’re on a run with the wind directly behind you, the centerboard almost pops out of the water. You can hear it vibrate a little when you’re on a run. The centerboard is not doing anything. Just give the board a tug and it floats right up.

Conversely, when sailing with the wind from any other direction, the centerboard won’t budge unless you struggle with it because there is so much sideways force acting upon the submerged leeboard pinching it into place.

I learned about this pinching effect the hard way last fall when returning to shore on a small lake with a bid wind.

What I do when launching is get out a few feet and quickly drop the centerboard and rudder. When returning I pull up the board and rudder at the last minute and slide onto the tiny sandy launch area on either side of the concrete boat ramp. I could row. Rowing would eliminate some problems, but that’s lame.

I guess the first few times I returned the wind was at my back. But this time, the wind was directly at the beam and I was cruising for shore with a great big smile on my face. God, I love to sail. There exists a very small window to get this right: if you pull too early you lose the momentum and have to come about and start all over again. Or row. But rowing a sailboat is lame. Pull too late and you crash.

So I’m cruising into shore, wind over the side, loving life, and at that critical point I yank the centerboard and it doesn’t move. I yank again. It’s still stuck and while both hands pulled on the board there came that dreadful sound wood makes when splintering. Too late.

If it wasn’t for crashing my boat into the shore, I don’t know that I would have ever figured out the physics of sailing.