John and Susan had done plenty of sailing, but there is always something to learn about a boat that you have not sailed before. They stepped the mast the wrong way round, but that was set right in a moment.
“She doesn’t seem to have a forestay,” said John. “And there isn’t a place to lead the halyard to in the bows to make it do instead.”
“Let me have a look,” said Queen Elizabeth. “These little boats often do without stays at all. Is there a cleat under the thwart where the mast is stepped?”
“Two,” said John, feeling. The mast fitted in a hole in the forward thwart, the seat near the bows of the boat. It had a square foot, which rested in a slot cut to fit it in the kelson.
“Get the sail ready and hoist it, and make fast there and see how she does,” said Queen Elizabeth.
“I wonder whether the real Queen Elizabeth knew much about ships,” said Titty.
“That Queen Elizabeth was not brought up close to Sydney Harbour,” said mother.
Susan had got the sail ready. On the gaff there was a strop (which is really a loop), that hooked on a hook on one side of an iron ring called the traveller, because it moved up and down the mast. The halyard ran from the traveller up to the top of the mast, through a sheave (which is a hole with a little wheel in it), and then down again. John hooked the strop on the traveller and hauled away on the halyard. Up went the brown sail until the traveller was nearly at the top of the mast. Then John made the halyard fast on the cleats, which were simply pegs, underneath the thwart which served to hold the mast up.
“That looks all right,” said Queen Elizabeth from the jetty. “But to make the sail set properly you must pull the boom down. That’ll take those