Inside Practical Sailor

The more controversial-in my mind-element of open-source software is how our navigation data is used. The success of open-source software depends on the willingness of sailors to share data via the cloud. Were told, of course, that this is anonymous meta-data (the sort of non-identifying data with that the National Security Administration scrapes from phone records), and that the user can control which data he shares. Most of us are already sharing all kinds of information with various smart-phone apps, so this is nothing new. Still, I worry.

I loathe thee for your lovely teak decks, prone to leaking, hot to touch in the tropics, and forever accumulating dirt. I loathe thee for thy alluring bowsprit, a precarious perch where no man with two hip replacements should ever be. I loathe thee for thy water tank sloshing in the bow, turning thee into a teeter-totter when the mildest swell rolls into the bay.

Freshwater fouling organisms are no weaklings. One of the most notorious, the zebra mussel, introduced by the ballast water of voyaging ships, can wreak havoc with power-plant cooling systems. For sweetwater sailors who have but the summer to sail, the most common threat to the hull is algae. In fact, algae (aka slime) actually tends to grow much faster in fresh water than it does in salt water.

In my view, having a foolproof hank-on sail ahead of the mast is not a bad thing. On your average cruising boat, the staysail is usually small, and stay itself is far enough aft that dousing or setting it doesn't put the crew in jeopardy. The nice thing about this approach is that it greatly reduces the cost of retrofitting a sloop with an inner forestay and sail to set on it.

An important question that comes up in our upcoming report on stainless-steel swivels for anchors is where the shackle should be introduced to the rode. A common approach is to attach the swivel at the end of the chain rode directly to the anchor, in lieu of a common anchor shackle.

Although anyone headed offshore will benefit from 'The Art of Seamanship,' it is aimed squarely at the sailor. Its not a book for the novice tying his first bowline, or the yachtsman interested in flag etiquette. The topics, particularly those dealing with weather, anchoring, sail-handling, and navigation, are examined with a depth and insight that only come through years of experience.

As part of an upcoming article that revisits this topic in more detail, Practical Sailor publisher Tim Cole has put together a two-part video illustrating the steps of removing paint and raising the waterline on his Bristol 35.5, First Light.

Whether youre a cruiser or a racer, a man or a woman, an armchair captain or a PHRF vet-Im betting you felt at least an inkling of pride and swelling happiness for Team SCA when the all-women crew won the penultimate Leg 8 of the Volvo Ocean Race last week.

If you tear up root, branch, and all to go sailing, the return to the dirt-dwelling life is troublesome business. Youre accustomed to peace and solitude. Endless waterfront views. A procession of sunrises and sunsets. You can pick your neighbors and move on quickly if you choose. But for me, the most interesting transformation that the cruising sailor undergoes is our relationship with stuff. The most successful long-term sailors I know always seem to be paring down what they have, eliminating all but a few choice needs. For them, its all about quality not quantity.

Being blessed with product testers who are passionate about their areas of expertise can be a double-edged sword. Their intense interest means they'll be particularly thorough in their research and testing; but their testing can spiral out of control as fascinating minutiae piques their curiosity. As it turns out, the best cure for a PS tester trapped in this downward "more-research-is-needed" spiral is the imminent approach of sailing season. Spring, therefore, is harvest time for the editors at Practical Sailor-and this spring has been particularly fruitful. Here's a glimpse of what's ahead: