The Game Is Afloat: Part 1
Know Your Shit, Know Your Ship
There are a lot of reasons to put your party on a ship: adventure, exploration, raiding, saucy pirates, running into cyclopean ruins in which elder gods sleep, and just plain getting from Point A to B. Plus, the only thing stupider/more amazing than mixing boating and alcohol is mixing PCs, boating, and alcohol.
Obviously there are lots of books like Stormwrack that can give you all the mechanics you’d need, but I thought I’d outline the kinds of fundamentals that give you access to all the most exciting parts of shipboard adventuring. I want you guys to be able to have thrilling sea chases, cunning deceptions, perilous storms, sneaky attacks, and some of the goddam sexiest ships afloat. I haven’t really found a book that gives good examples of this stuff, so here I go!
(Nota Bene: the basic rule of thumb for the difference between a “boat” and a “ship” is that you can put a boat onto a ship, but not the other way around.)
There are two very important things to know about ships:
1. They make leeway. When the wind blows on a ship, it will push the ship sideways in the direction the wind is going. The deeper and sharper the bottom of your ship, the less leeway it will make. The shallower and smaller the bottom of your ship – or, rather, the less draught (UK/CA)/ draft (US) she has, the more leeway she’ll make.
2. They can’t go directly into the wind. If you try sail a ship directly into the wind, she’ll eventually just stop and begin to drift backwards. This is called being “in irons”. If a sailing ship is trying to go in the direction that the wind is blowing from, she has to zig-zag back and forth across the wind. Depending on the type of sails she has, the ship makes broader or more acute-angled zig-zags. The bigger the zig-zag, the less actual progress the ship is making towards her goal (especially with leeway in operation!).
Holding fast to your sparkly, new-found knowledge, prepare for the next thing you need to know:
There are two(-ish) types of sails.
1. Fore-and-aft sails: These are what you usually see on the average sailboat these days. They run from front to back of a ship, and their design lets a ship point closer towards the wind (i.e. where the wind is blowing from). These sails are attached to supporting poles called “booms”. If you pull in your fore-and-aft sails close to the centre line of your ship, it’s called sailing “close-hauled” or “full and by the wind”.
2. Square sails: Think Pirates of the Caribbean and Treasure Island. These sails sit roughly athwartships a.k.a. at right angles to the centre line of the ship. These sails are attached to horizontal poles known as “yards”. They are extremely effective at sailing generally downwind-ish, which is known as “sailing large”.
(3. Jibs: technically run fore-and-aft, but they don’t go on masts or booms, but rather the “stays”, which are ropes that hold masts in place so they don’t fall out. )
Fun fact: if a ship is good with both styles, you’d say that “she sails well, both by and large”. And that, shipmates, is where the expression “by and large” came from.
🌟NOW YOU KNOW.
With most tall ships (by which I mean wooden ships from the Age of Sail), you get a mix of these sails:
Also: note that, when we’re being technical, a ship in the general sense of “it r a big boat” may not be “ship-rigged. Because nautical jargon is like, 90% things being confusing.
Now, let’s boil all this down to some broad generalisations:
Big draught/draft/fat-bottomed girls ≈ makes less leeway, but can’t go in shallows.
Smaller draught/draft ≈ makes more leeway, but can zoom into rivers and shallow waters.
Fore-and-aft sails ≈ sails better going upwind.
Square sails ≈ sails better going downwind.
Big ship ≈ can carry more/bigger guns, which can shoot farther, but goes slower. Hard to row in a calm, if at all.
Little ship ≈ zippy like a bunny on crack, but smaller/fewer guns. Plus, being lower to the water, in heavy seas (storms, big swell/waves), she may not be able to open her gunports without getting her guns soaked so they can’t fire. Easier to row in a calm.
You can add magic sails that go directly into the wind. You can shape wood to change draught/draft. You can have guns that fire underwater, or can get wet. You can give a ship harpoon guns to pull the other guy in. You can make your ship fireproof. You can do anything you want, because magic.
But before you even begin to indulge in fantasy ship fantasies, you need the ship you’re going to modify.
Because you’re not just limited to the basic, Golden Age of Piracy galleon:
You can get a galleass, and row your way to ramming the other ship when they’re becalmed:
You can have a party-sized crew, and cross oceans in a Polynesian proa (feat. outrigger):
Forget putting your junk in the trunk, put your trunk in a junk (Zheng He’s junk!):
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But let’s talk pretty simple shopping, and what you can do with it:
Say you have Big Ship, which is a larger, heavy draughted/drafted mostly square-rigged ship. Playing the role of Big Ship today is a smallish frigate:
Big Ship is chasing Little Ship, a sharp-hulled but shallow-draughted/drafted, mostly fore-and-aft ship. Meet the sexy, sexy xebec [pronounced: /ˈziːbɛk/ or /zᵻˈbɛk/], feat. lateen sails, which are the hottest kind of fore-and-aft sail, IMHO, if not always practical:
There are so many ways this encounter can go, even if you don’t drop a kraken, mutinies, fires, and/or huge storms on them:
If Little Ship wants to escape and is upwind of Big Ship, she can point herself as close to the wind as possible, and her zippy fore-and-aft rig will help her escape the lumbering foe, and she can show the Big Ship her ass with a cheeky wink and a wave.
Or, if Little Ship knows there are underwater obstacles around like reefs or sandbanks, or a shallow channel between islands, Little Ship can lure Big Ship towards those obstacles and cause Big Ship to run aground. Then Little Ship can zoom around and rake Big Ship with cannonfire at her leisure until Big Ship surrenders.
However, Big Ship will be able to carry heavier guns that can shoot further away: at any moment, Big Ship could blast away one of Little Ship’s masts, and then Little Ship is seriously boned. Superior gunnery and training in aiming prevail, and the rewards of hard work are repaid with $$$.
And what if Big Ship has Little Ship downwind? What if there are very light winds, which Big Ship’s taller masts allow her to catch, since she can spread more sail? Then Little Ship is in serious fucking trouble, and will need to start throwing her guns, water, food, and possibly even (*sob) treasure! overboard to survive. And if she gets away, she will now find herself without the ability to fight, probably in the middle of the ocean, with nothing to eat or drink. This is usually about when bigass white whales and elder gods can add a little zest to your time afloat.
This is just one scenario, with two ships, no magic, no monsters, and no inclement weather.
Plus, I’ve left out my most favouritest part of sailing ships, like, ever: deception, disguise, and generally outsmarting the other guy.
Next time on Captain Doesn't Shut Up About Boats:
Luff & Bluff: The Sneaky, Lying Bastard’s Guide To Tricky Sailing and Sailing Trickery
