The fin consists of a plate of iron or steel to the base of which is affixed a bulb of lead, which, being in the best possible place, insures stability. The fin proper gives lateral resistance in an almost perfect form, for there is no deadwood either forward or aft and the least possible amount of wetted surface. I remember when a little boy in a fishing village on the bank of a land-locked arm of the sea, where the water was always smooth, how we youngsters came to appreciate fully the worth of an improvised ballast-fin. We used to enjoy the diversion of model yacht sailing and the delights of many regattas. I owned one of the smartest models in the village. She was rigged as a cutter with outside lead, self-steering gear and all the latest maritime improvements, and she generally came out a winner. I tell you I used to put on a great many airs on this account, and as a natural result was duly hated and envied by my playmates, who owned more or less tubby craft that could scarcely get out of their own way.
But the day arrived when my pride was destined to have a fall. A shrewd youth of Scottish extraction came to our village for the summer with his father. He had the keenest, greenest eye you ever saw, and one of those money-making noses that are unmistakable. His whole physiognomy and form indicated shrewdness. He mingled with us for some time on the beach, mudlarked with the boys and watched our model yacht matches with undisguised interest. We all got the notion that he was an inland landlubber, though it is only fair to him to acknowledge that he never told us so in so many words.
One Saturday afternoon, after my little cutter had surpassed herself by distancing all her opponents, I indulged in some unusually tall talk, and challenged each and every one of my rivals to a race across the "creek," as the sheet of water was called, offering to give them four minutes' start, the distance being half a mile.
To my surprise, our green-eyed friend came along and accepted the challenge, saying that on the following Saturday he would produce a craft that would knock spots out of my cutter without any time allowance whatever, and without the aid of a longer hull or larger sailspread. He also remarked that he had a month's pocket money saved up, and was willing to wager it on the result. I accepted his offer without superfluous parleying, and in my mind's eye was already investing that pocket money of his in various little treasures for which I hankered. But, for all that, I made every preparation for the fray, using very fine sandpaper and pot lead till my boat's bottom was beautifully burnished, and seeing that her sails and gear were in tip top racing condition. All the boys wondered what sort of a craft my opponent would bring out. He had never been seen with a boat of any description. We laughed in our sleeves and whispered it about that he would probably produce one of those showy vessels that one sees in the city toy store, and that generally sail on their beam ends.