Preface
In January 1883 a new sporting weekly appeared in Berlin. Wassersport set out to serve the oarsman, the sailor, the swimmer and the skater, and for the next decade and more it reported their regattas, argued about their rules and recorded their club dinners. It also did something rarer: it taught its readers how boats were built.
The years it covers were a golden age of the small boat. In Germany sailing was passing from a handful of wealthy owners on the Elbe and the Kiel fjord to clerks, students and engineers on the lakes around Berlin. Boatbuilders’ yards multiplied at Stralau, Köpenick and on the Wannsee; new clubs were founded every season. Abroad, the cutter and the centreboarder were fighting out their long quarrel, the canoe had become a sport of its own, ice yachts were racing on the Hudson and the Gulf of Kronstadt, and in 1891 a blind man’s yard in Rhode Island launched Gloriana and changed yacht design within a single summer. Wassersport followed all of it, and much of what it printed was practical: how to plank a clinker boat, how to choose an oar or a piece of oak, how to lay up a yacht for the winter, how to build a sail sledge from three planks.
This book gathers that practical material. Its sixteen chapters run roughly from the hull to the rig and from the rowing boat to the racing yacht: first how to read a set of lines and how a clinker boat is put together, then timber and its care, rowing boats and oars, light and folding boats and canoes; then the working boats of the coasts, small sailing boats, the argument over centreboard and keel, the Berlin centreboard yachts and small cruisers, and the Gloriana year; finally spars and fittings, ice yachts and model yachts. Within each chapter the articles stand in the order in which the journal printed them, so that the reader can watch ideas arrive, be argued over and be built.
The articles are translated in full wherever they bear on building; reports of races, club news and passages of pure polemic have been left out or summarised. The authors wrote for readers who knew the boats in front of them, and their German is often technical, sometimes regional and occasionally careless. I have kept their measurements and their names for things, adding an English equivalent where the original term would mislead. Where the journal’s figures do not agree with one another, or where the scan of a page could not be read with certainty, the fact is stated in a footnote rather than silently corrected. Every drawing has been redrawn from the journal’s plates as clean line work, keeping the original’s lines and leaving out the stains, show-through and broken type of a century and a half.
The men who wrote these pages — boatbuilders, naval officers, engineers, amateurs who signed themselves with initials — were working out by hand and by trial what is now taken for granted. Their boats are almost all gone. Their drawings and descriptions remain, and many of the boats could still be built from them.
— L. Dudakov



