A handbook ought to be right, and mine went out wrong in a number of small particulars I cannot let stand. None of them will sink your boat, but one or two will lay her on her ear, and I'd sooner you heard it from me than from the water. Strike these through in ink and read as corrected. With my apologies and my thanks for your patience. (Tap a line once you've set it right — the count in the corner keeps me honest.)
two ouncesread
two pounds.The keel-weight figures right through Chapter III were transposed when I cut the stencil; wherever a ballast weight is given in ounces, read pounds. A boat trimmed to the printed figure carries no sail at all, and three of you have written to say as much, very kindly.1
lignum vitaeread
yellow pine.I overstated the case here. Yellow pine carves truer for a first hull, holds an edge under the gouge, and costs a tenth as much. Save the lignum for the keel shoe if you must have it.
Give way always to the boat on the starboard tack…) is printed here a second time, having already had its say on Page 8. The duplicator is half to blame and I am the other half. One telling is plenty; the courtesy holds none the less for being said but once.2
sixpence the pairread
a shilling the pair.The chandler has put his brass deck-cleats up since I priced them. Not my error so much as the world's, but a correction is a correction.
starboardread
PORT.This is the one fix I beg you make before you next sail. As printed, the right-of-way note would send two free-sailing boats straight at one another on opposite tacks. Mark it in red ink at once. I have lost sleep over this line.3
halyardread
forestay.A small thing, but the rope I there call the halyard does no hoisting at all; it stays the mast forward. Call a stay a stay and your boat will understand you better than my prose did.
the rudder hung a little inboard of the sternpost.I have left it exactly as it stood. That is how my own boat steers, and she has never once griped her helm in four seasons. With every respect to him, this was never an error and I will not call it one.
a thimbleful of beeswaxread
a thimbleful of tallow.Beeswax goes hard and tacky in the cold; tallow keeps the sheet-eyelets running sweet on a frosty Saturday morning.
three suits of sailread
two suits of sail.I was showing off. A working suit and a light suit will see the weekend skipper through every wind the park is likely to give him.
Mere closes at duskread
the keeper locks the boat-house at dusk; the water is yours as long as the light is.A point of fact, and a happier one.
the chandler has put his brass deck-cleats upread
cleats.I had typed
celats,and the duplicator, faithful as ever, ran off forty of my mistake. A correction with a misprint in it is a poor sort of correction.
lignum vitaeas it first stood. I was right the first time and ought to have trusted myself. The book is hereby un-corrected on this point.
And one line more. In withdrawing Correction 2 just above I wrote a second hull split on me.
It was the third. I should not like even my errors miscounted.
plumber's lead.It is more properly milled sheet lead, such as the roofers use, which melts cleaner and with less dross. I leave the homelier name in the text above for those who, like me, learned the word at the plumber's counter before ever they learned it from a book.