I’ve had a letter in defence of jargon published in the Financial Times today.

Michael Skapinker wrote a piece talking about the role of jargon. I pointed out that when sailing, jargon has its place: it enables experienced sailors to communicate clearly, succinctly and with no danger of misunderstanding. It is offputting to novices, but that is not the point - in the long run, everyone is safer at sea when communication is clear, especially in an emergency.

 The full text of the article is below. You can also check out the Sail in Mallorca handy guide to sailing terms.

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From Mr Nicholas Lovell.

Sir, I am a regular sailor, and I think that sailing is an exemplar of Michael Skapinke’s issues with jargon (“The plain and simple truth about jargon”, July 1). On the one hand, new hands on board ship are confused (and sometimes angry) at the use of strange words for everyday things (galley for kitchen, heads for loo, sole for floor).

They then normally turn their ire to the ropes, none of which is called a rope. On even the smallest sailing boat there are sheets, halyards, warps, kicking straps, outhauls and more.

“Why can’t you just say ‘the blue rope’?” they ask.

The answer is clear. Every rope on the boat has a name based on the function it performs. Bring another sailor on board, shout at him to loosen the mainsail halyard and he will instantly know what the skipper wants him to do, even if he has never been on board this particular boat before.

When sailing with novice crew, I am very lax about using words that everyone understands (it’s perfectly OK to say ” I’m going to the kitchen, does anyone want a cup of tea?”). But I work hard to teach people the jargon that would matter in an emergency.

Nicholas Lovell,
London SW1V 1JF, UK

I have had my first article accepted by Practical Boat Owner. The good news is that it showcases Tripitaka, Mallorca and the wonderful sailing to be had there.

 The bad news is that it is a story about lack of seamanship (my seamanship) leading to going aground on a lee shore.

 Still, it makes a good tale, and will appear in news-stands in early August.

First trip of the year tomorrow. Spending a week with a mostly novice crew, probably spending most of our time on the south coast of Mallorca.

Should be fun. Can’t wait.

Sail in Mallorca has been through a massive overhaul. New sections on sailing terms, itineraries and an updated information page on chartering my yacht Tripitaka.

And overall, I’m quite pleased with the mashups squeezed into the site :-).

I’ve been reading the blog of Kalessin, a 33ft Westerly that has been travelling around the Med for a while, and spent most of 2007 in the Balearics.

They’re committed bloggers - even on Christmas Day. It’s worth checking out.

I stumbled across this youtube clip of the cello solo that Paul Bettany plays on board the HMS Surprise in the film version of Master and Commander. It’s so beautiful I had to post it.

I was in Cowes today, taking the fast Red Funnel jet from Southampton. It’s very early in the season, and I’ve rarely been there like this before: no sailing boat in the marina, no stores to buy, few other boat crews in because it was a midweek lunchtime andthey were out on the water.

It was pleasantly empty and quiet, apart from a pushy racist saleswoman at Pascall Atkey, the yacht chandlers. (Unfortunately, I suspect she was the owner from the way she behaved.)

Still, I felt a little out of place. It’s a place for sailors. I wasn’t a sailor, and I felt slightly lost. At sea, you might say.

Patrick O’Brian discusses the lure of the sea extensively in his Aubrey/Maturin novels, putting most of the reflection in Stephen Maturin’s inner thoughts.

He particularly identifies the lure of the now. Sailors have little time for regret when afloat: what’s done is done and the boat, weather, tide and circumstances have changed. With unpredictable weather and fickle winds, there is little point in worrying about the future more than a day or two hence.

So a sailor lives in the now, in a moving band of time that is rarely more than 24 hours long. Not a time of irresponsibility, to be sure, but a time where long term worries have no place.

 What a delightful contrast to shore-based life, and one of the many, many joys of sailing.

I have just started reading Master and Commander by Patrick O’Brian again, prompted by the film on the television at the weekend. The film, while excellent, bears no resemblance to the book, which is set in Jack Aubrey’s favourite cruising grounds of Mallorca and the east coast of Spain.

Menorca was a British possession for much of the nineteenth century, and there is a wonderful frisson of recognition as Jack Aubrey hears of shipmates falling down Pigtail Steps in Mahon, or searching for the John B Christopher in the lee of Isla Dragonera.

If you are thinking of cruising in the Balearics, have just booked a charter holiday or have ever sailed there before, I strongly recommend a copy.

Given that I sail in the Mediterrean where spending the night at anchor remains a common occurrence, I found the Anchor Watch sessions at the London Boat Show incredibly useful.

Put together by John Goode’s Southern sailing school (www.southern.co.uk), the Anchor Watch team built a long sandpit and a travelling trolley to simulate the foredeck of a sailing yacht. There were several really interesting ideas I had not seen before:

• When coming stern-to a quayside (like in a Greek village), instead of dropping the bower anchor and using the electric windlass to lower the chain, use the manual handle to release the clutch on the windlass. This will allow the chain to run freely and at any time you can tighten the clutch to dig the anchor in or control the speed of the boat.
• Using an anchor chum (or “angel”) such as a spare anchor or any heavy weight attached to the anchor chain with a free-sliding shackle and lowered down towards the seabed on a spare warp effectively increases the scope of the chain for holding purposes, because it keeps the chain parallel to the seabead and helps the anchor dig in.
• Sleeping at anchor can be challenging, particularly in the forecabin, when the anchor chain jangles all night over the stemhead roller. By tying a length of rope to the chain with a rolling hitch and then letting out more chain, you can make the rope take the strain over the bow roller, which is much quieter.

Very interesting, and I have already used it to update my advice on anchoring in the Mediterranean..