Bruce Kirby: Flexing hull, Leaking toilet

Bruce Kirby has earned a significant place in sailing history, as a yacht designer, three-time Olympian and honored sportsman who has reshaped the sport of sailing. His story is now captured in the book, The Bruce Kirby Story: From the River to the Sea.

Beginning in Ottawa, Canada and progressing to the world stage, the memoir weaves through a remarkable life of adventure, artistry, powerful storms, nasty business, sweet success, memorable characters and family. Here is an excerpt:

I can’t remember ever being frightened on a sailboat, but there have been times when the word “apprehensive” could have been used. One of those was in the SORC Lauderdale Race while struggling to weather in The Magic Twanger, a Doug Peterson 36-footer very similar to his first boat, Ganbare.

The Magic Twanger was built by Carl Eichenlaub in San Diego and was strip-planked with red cedar. Strip construction is not the same as cold or hot molding, but a somewhat quick and dirty way to put a hull together. It consists of strips of wood, in this case about an inch thick and maybe 1.5 inches wide. The strips are glued and edge-nailed to form a reasonably sturdy vessel. The hull would then have been coated with fiberglass and would have had sturdy bulkheads and several frames.

The Gulf Stream was living up to its reputation with the banging and slamming and launching us into space and crashing. Off watch Jim Linville and I were in the upper and lower windward pipe berths with our bodies craving sleep and our minds conceding “no way dude.”

Then Jim noticed a source of entertainment. When we dropped off a wave and landed in the trough the cabin sides would twist just enough to be obvious when you were lying directly below them. Then we realized the whole boat was flexing, but we assured ourselves, not dangerously.

A light wooden boat of that construction had to flex to relieve the stress in the structure. If it didn’t flex it would probably break – rather like a long aircraft wing that we’ve all watched in horror when going through severe air turbulence.

The humor of the situation increased when we fell of a really big one and the lid flew off the chemical toilet in the forepeak. Soon the slimy green chemical used to cut down on the odor, and make the Porta Potti a viable alternative to pipes and valves and a holding tank for a light racing machine, was strewn all over the forepeak, including over all the nearby sails.

This led to immediate constipation throughout the crew, and prayers that the finish line was only a few hours away.

For more information on the book, click here.