New York Times - 1860-02-15 page 8
Bloody Affray on the Ice at Port Ewen. - TWO MEN KILLED, ONE FATALLY WOUNDED, AND ANOTHER BADLY HURT.
Great excitement has existed in and around Port Ewen, Ulster County, during the last two or three days, in consequence of a shocking and bloody affray which occurred on the ice opposite that village on Saturday afternoon last, [Feb. 11, 1860] about 3 o’clock.

The facts are as follows: Two brothers, named RILYEA, with a friend, all residing at Esopus, Ulster County, were sailing in an ice-boat on the river on Saturday afternoon.  After amusing themselves for sometime, they fastened the boat to the dock at Port Ewen, and went into a tavern to drink.  While there, three Irishmen took possession of the boat, loosed it from the dock, and sailed to the middle of the river, where they were observed by one of the brothers, who instantly went to them demanded the boat.  The Irishmen refused to surrender it, and angry words ensued.  During the altercation, young RILYEA unfastened the tiller and threatened to drive out the occupants of the boat.

Upon this, one of the Irishmen drew knife from his pocket and stabbed the unfortunate [22 year old] youth in the heart, inflicting a fatal wound.  The remaining brother and his friend witnessed the transaction from the shore and immediately started for the scene of the affray.  Before they arrived at the boat, however, they came to the place where the elder RILYEA lay, and seeing that he was dying, rushed towards the boat to take revenge.  After a short fight, one of the Irishmen seized the tiller and struck the friend of the brother a severe blow upon the head, which felled him senseless, [cracked his scull and lead to his demise].  HIRAM RILYEA then repaired to the tavern where he procured a pistol, and returning to the boat, shot one of the Irishmen, killing him instantly.  He then turned and [despite being badly hurt,] ran for the shore in the direction of Rondout, followed by the remaining Irishmen, where he arrived in advance of them, and instantly gave himself up to the authorities.  The brothers RILYEA were 20 and 22 years of age respectively.  The one who was killed was buried on Sunday.  Both the offenders have been arrested.
 
New York Times, Feb. 17, 1860, Page 5
The Grand Jury of Ulster County, which has been for several days in session at Kingston, adjourned on Wednesday, after having disposed of about thirty cases, in various forms. The most important of them was the affair at Port Ewen, which took place on Saturday last. The case, as laid before the Grand Jury, differs essentially from the reports formerly printed, and is substantially thus:

On Saturday morning, two brothers, named HIRAM and JEREMIAH RELYEA [sic], with a friend, JOHN SLATER, while cruising down the river on the ice, with an iceboat, landed at Port Ewen, a small village, inhabited  mainly by Irish, employes of the Delaware and Hudson Canal  Company.  It seems that HIRAM RELYEA and SLATER proceeded some distance back of the village, while JEREMIAH remained to take charge of the boat.
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While thus engaged he was surrounded by a gang of ruffians of the place, was terribly beaten and obliged to flee for his life.  Thus matters stood until about 5 o'clock P. M., when Hiram and Slater returned to take the boat, when they were also attacked by the gang, and being surrounded upon all sides were obliged to fight for their lives.  At this juncture RELYEA and SLATER endeavored to take refuge between two canal boats near by, but were still more closely pursued, and RELYEA was felled to the ground by a heavy blow from MARTIN SILK.  Instantly springing to his feet, he discharged a pistol at SILK, the ball of which passed through the heart of his assailant, killing him instantly.  RELYEA immediately fled  toward Rondout, about a mile distant, pursued by a crowd of over a hundred infuriated Irishmen.  When he reached the village he was covered with blood, and his clothes nearly torn from him by the crowd.  He immediately gave himself up to the authorities. A scene of the greatest excitement prevailed in Rondout, and for a time it was with difficulty that a serious riot between the canal men and the citizens was prevented.  Both HIRAM and JEREMIAH RELYEA now lie in a critical condition.  Doubts are entertained of the recovery of the latter.  Coroner DUBOIS on Saturday proceeded to hold an inquest on the body of SILK, who, with the jury impaneled, after much opposition by the friends of deceased, found a verdict in accordance with the above facts.  The Grand Jury on Tuesday refused to find a bill against HIRAM RELYEA, on the charge of killing MARTIN SILK, admitting the ground of self-defence. Indictments were found against PATRICK KINNY, TOBIAS BUTLER, PATRICK MORAN, and some six other rioters, charged with “assault with intent to kill.”  Warrants were issued, and those named have been arrested.
 
1860-02-17 New York Daily Herald Iceboat Affray - The Tragedy on the Ice at Port Ewen.
ADDITIONAL PARTICULARS —SPEEDY JUSTICE BY THE GRAND JURY OF ULSTER COUNTY.
The Grand Jury of Ulster county, which for several days past has been in session at Kingston, adjourned on Wednesday, after having disposed of some thirty cases, the most important of which however, was the affair which took place at Port Ewen, about three miles south of Kingston, on Saturday last.  The case was laid before the Grand Jury on Tuesday, at which time the true facts in the same appeared, and are in substance as follows:

On Saturday morning last two brothers, Hiram and Jeremiah Relyea, together with a friend, John Slater, while cruising down the river on the ice in an ice boat, landed at Port Ewen, a small village, populated for the most part by Irishmen employed on the Delaware and Hudson Canal, which has its terminus at that point, and a community bearing no favorable reputation.  It seems that Jeremiah Relyea and Slater proceeded some distance back of the village, while Hiram remained to take charge of the boat.  While thus engaged he was surrounded by a crowd of ruffians—representatives of the village—and Relyea was severely beaten and driven away.  Thus matters stood until about five o'clock in the afternoon, when Jeremiah and Slater returned to take the boat, &., when they were also attacked, and, being surrounded upon all sides, were obliged to fight for their lives.  At this juncture, Relyea and Slater endeavored to take refuge between two canal boats near by, but were still closer pursued, and [Hiram] Relyea was felled to the ground by a heavy blow from Martin Silk.  Instantly springing to his feet, he discharged a pistol at Silk, which took effect, the ball passing through the heart, killing him instantly.  Relyea immediately fled towards Rondout, about a mile distant, pursued by a crowd of over a hundred infuriated Irishmen, which place he, however, reached, covered with blood and his clothes nearly torn from him by the mob.  He instantly gave himself up to the authorities.  A scene of the greatest excitement prevailed in the village, and for a time it was with difficulty that a serious riot between the Irish canal men and the citizens was prevented.  Both Hiram and Jeremiah Relyea now lay in a very critical condition, and doubts are entertained of the recovery of the latter.  Coroner Dubois on Saturday proceeded to hold an inquest on the body of Silk, who, with the jury empannelled [sic], after much opposition by the friends of deceased, found a verdict in accordance with the facts as stated.  The Grand Jury, at Kingston, on Tuesday acquitted Hiram Relyea on the charge of killing Martin Silk, upon the grounds of self defence.  It further found bills of indictment against Pat Kinney, Tobias Butler, Pat Moran and some six others on the charge of ‘‘assault with intent to kill."  Warrants were issued for their arrest, and those named are now in jail.

Editor's note: The following text was originally published in an undated published booklet  "Ice Yachting Winter Sailboats Hit More Than 100 m.p..h.. by John A. Carroll with additional information from the "New York Times" article from February 8, 1978. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. For information about current ice boating on the Hudson River go to White Wings and Black Ice here.  

​Ice yachting easily qualifies as the fastest winter sport in the world. Skiing? The ice yacht moves twice as rapidly. Bob-sledding? Nearly 25 m.p.h. faster. And ice yachts, unlike bob-sleds, do not have brakes.
 
According to Ray Ruge, president of the Eastern Ice Yachting Association, the world ice yacht speed record over a measured course with flying start stands at 144 m.p.h. At Long Branch, N.J., Commodore Elisha Price in Walter Content's "Clarel" set the mark in February 1908, by covering one mile in 25 seconds. The time was clocked by five stop watches. The speed has been exceeded unofficially on several occasions.

"From - Feb 6, 1978 - New York Times: Outdoors: Slipping Silently over the Ice by Fred Ferretti: One of the first lessons taught when you take up the speedy and somewhat dangerous sport of iceboating is to watch out for Christmas trees. Christmas trees mark thin ice or ice that has holes in it, that is rough and heavily pitted or that is overlaid with an invisible layer of water. These hazards can be disastrous to the spruce or fiberglass boats that tear across frozen rivers and lakes, sometimes at speeds of more than 100 miles an hour."
 
While speed records remain a goal for winter sailors, most American ice yachtmen now center their attention on competitive racing and the annual regattas that have become an important part of the cold weather sports scene.
 
Keen spectator and participant interest in this old sport are comparatively recent developments. Ice yachting, of necessity, has a limited appeal. There are few sections in the country where cold weather and hard-frozen lakes make the sport practicable. Moreover, the high cost of constructing the large yachts popular at the turn of the century restricted the sport to the very wealthy.
 
The weather factor has remained fairly constant and ice yachting still is confined to a few choice locations - mainly in the American-Canadian border states and provinces. However, the financial requirement has undergone a radical change. The organization of the International Skeeter Association in 1939 is, to a large degree, responsible for the current boom in the sport. The "Skeeters," which are limited to 75 square feet of sail and cost as little as a few hundred dollars to build, outraced the larger boats in most of last year's major regattas. Approximately 75 per cent of all present ice boat construction follows this design.

​There are still large boats on the ice, although initial building expenses and prohibitive transportation costs have held construction to a minimum during the last few years. The two largest yachts currently in active competition are “Deuce”, owned by Clare Jacobs of Detroit and piloted by Joe Snay of the same city, and “Debutante”, owned by the Van Dyke family of Wisconsin and skippered by John Buckstaff of Oshkosh.
 
Both yachts carry 600 sq. ft. of heavy Wamsutta sail cloth, but the “Deuce” is the longer of the two. The Detroit yacht, which is a thing of picturesque beauty with its huge jib-and-mainsail rig, is 52 feet in length and carries a 52-foot high mast. Its solid, springy runner plank measures 30 feet across.

​To the non-scientist, it seems unbelievable that any craft backed only by a stiff wind, can hit 100 miles an hour or better. The secret is the reduction of surface friction to just a few inches of sharp steel runner slipping across the ice, plus the small air resistance offered by a streamlined fuselage. Once an ice boat gets underway, the friction becomes almost negligible. And the speed is created by a partial vacuum of air currents ahead of the sail which pulls the craft forward until the boat is traveling from three to six times the velocity of the wind.

​Little is known of the origin of ice boats, although it has been established that Scandinavians in the Middle Ages were using a workable craft. Chapman's "Architecture Navalis Mercatoria" of 1768 mentions the sport by describing an ice yacht with a converted hull, a cross piece and a runner at each end.

​The Poughkeepsie Ice Yacht Club, an organization leaning to men of wealth and leisure, was organized in 1861. Using large, expensive craft, the club members specialized in racing trains along the river banks. The engineer tooted the whistle and passengers cheered, as the yachtsmen accepted the challenge and a contest was on.

​At the turn of the 20th century, new and more complete organizations began to take place. In 1912, new sportsmen formed the Northwestern Ice Yachting Association at Oshkosh, Wis., to embrace clubs in 'the Illinois, Michigan and Wisconsin region. Sail expanse classifications were drawn up to promote competition. As interest in the sport drew and new boats were built in greater numbers, new classifications were established.
 
The Northwestern Association now lists the following: Class A, up to 350 square feet of sail; Class B, up to 250; Class C, up to 175; Class D, 125; Class E, 75.

Patterning itself after the Northwestern, a group of eastern ice yachting enthusiasts met in 1937 at the Larchmont (N.Y.) Yacht Club to form the Eastern Ice Yachting Association. There are, however, a few differences in classification. The eastern body calls the up-to-250 square-foot group Class X, instead of Class B, and the newer organization lists an up-to-200 square-foot sail area as Class B, a type not recognized by the Northwestern.
 
In addition to the standard classifications, the Scooter and the D.N. 60 (Detroit News, 60 square feet of canvas) attract considerable attention. The Scooter, a remarkable amphibian which sails serenely on ice or in water, is the pride and joy of the South Bay Scooter Club, a member of the Eastern Association.

​It is believed that Coast Guardsmen, tired of long winter walks across ice for supplies, developed the first Scooter. They put runners on the bottom of one of their flat-bottomed sailboats and it worked. The boat has no rudder for water sailing and no movable runner for steering on ice. Direction is controlled only by shifting weight and sail handling.
 
The D.N. 60 sprang from that Detroit newspaper's hobby shop, as an economical boys' sailing craft. It has turned out to be another case of the parents playing with their kids' electric trains. Adults love them. Their surprising speed and easy construction resulted in the building of almost 100 in the Detroit area alone. And the News now sponsors annual competitions on Lake St. Clair for their popular “baby.”

​The skeleton of an ice yacht is T-shaped, with the fuselage forming the long part, and a cross-piece or "runner plank" the horizontal. There are three runners or skates. The ones at each end of the runner plank are fixed. The steering runner, at the end of the fuselage, is moveable. 

​Originally, all yachts were stern steerers. The runner plank was forward, the steering skate in the rear, behind the yachtsman's seat. Stern steerers have one pleasant advantage: boats using this design do not capsize easily.

But the winter sailors wanted speed, and in the 1920's the Meyer brothers of Wisconsin began experimenting with bow-steering. Boats with bow-steering have the runner plank crossing the rear seat. The steering runner is at the front end of the fuselage. The bow steerer is faster - much faster. And sufficient pressure is kept on the steering runner to afford traction and maneuverability. But to counteract these advantages, the bow steerer spills more readily.
 
Championship regattas of both the Northwestern and Eastern Associations are run in three-heat series to determine the champion of each class. The Northwestern winds up with a Free-for-All in which all classes are eligible. The Eastern concludes with an Open Championship limited to class titlists.
With the present pre-eminence of the Skeeter, the International Skeeter Association Championship Regatta now is widely regarded as the "World Series" of the sport. The I.S.A. runs a five-heat series, weather permitting. The international character of the organization stems from the fact that it has member clubs in both the United States and Canada. Winners are determined on a point basis.
 
Ice yachting's man of the year for 1947 probably was Jim Kimberly of Chicago, formerly of Neenah, Wis. Kimberly, who took his first ice boat ride at the age of five, won last year's International Skeeter Association title and the Northwestern Free-for-All. The 40-year-old executive is seeking additional titles this season in his 22-foot Skeeter, “Flying Phantom III”, one of several boats he owns.

​In racing, all boats are staggered at the starting line to give each entry unbroken wind. Lots are drawn for post positions and the order is reversed in successive heats. Races begin from a standing position, and here the yachtsman discovers the importance of a good pair of legs. At the crack of the gun he must take off like a sprinter for 25 to 50 feet, pushing his yacht to get "way" on her.

​Once underway, he needs all his skill to keep the boat moving. Inept handling stops the boat and the runners take a freezing grip on the ice. Then, out steps the yachtsman to give another starting push. This, of course, means a tremendous loss of face for the winter sailor.
 
The sport is dangerous and thrilling. The most exciting moments come at the turning markers around which racers try to cut as sharply as possible. When one yacht overtakes another at this point, the leader is required to leave "stake room" (sufficient space) for the overtaking yacht to pass between him and the marker.

Sometimes the cry is not heard, or a racer figures he has left sufficient room. Then the spectator sees two strong-willed ice yachtsmen tacking toward the stake at 90 miles an hour on sheer ice with no brakes to soften any possible collision. To make matters worse from the yachtsmen's point of view, the slightest touch of craft to marker means automatic disqualification from the race.
 
Even pleasure cruising has its hazards. Good natural ice surfaces of sufficient size are rare. And these are subject to pressure ridges, weak ice and stretches of open water caused by currents and thaws.
 
A quick plunge into icy water in the middle of winter with the nearest helping hand miles distant, is a sobering consideration for any frost-bitten sailor.
 
The Detroit Ice Yachting Club has fostered one of the more exclusive organizations in the world - the Hell Divers. To be eligible, a yachtsman merely has to take the plunge and survive to tell the story.
 
While the Skeeter pilots crow about their superiority over the larger boats, they frankly admit that the speed record probably will remain in the hands of Class A men. Speed runs are made over a straight measured course, under ideal wind and ice conditions and from a flying start. It is under the varying conditions of ice and wind in competitive racing - where maneuverability is at a premium - that the big boats are left behind. THE END

Editor's Note: A future History Blog will discuss the Hell Divers.

​The New York Times, Sunday, January 28, 1973, By Woody N. Klose
It is because of Franklin Delano Roosevelt's abiding love for the river and its winter ice that a slice of Hudson Valley history could be reconstructed last year in an 80‐foot‐long basement in a house high on a bill overlooking Newburgh.
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There, in the house of contractor, Robert R. Lawrence, a band of devoted valley men reconstructed the legendary gaff‐rigged ice yacht "Jack Frost".  Had it not been for Roosevelt, the "Jack Frost" would long ago have become just another part of the rich valley earth.

Commodore Archibald Rogers of Hyde Park owned the original Jack Frost, an iceboat of staggering dimensions. Built in 1883, the original "Jack Frost" carried 760 square feet of sail and measured 49½ feet from bow to stern along the backbone.

In 1938 when the boathouse in which the "Jack Frost" was stored was destroyed by a hurricane, Roosevelt, concerned about the future of iceboating, gave the huge boat to Richard Aldrich of Barrytown. Aldrich had done much to keep alive the spirit of iceboating and, in the process, had amassed a sizable collection of antique ice yachts of Hudson River design, with the steering runner in the stern.
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Unfortunately, the original backbone, cockpit and runnerplank of the "Jack Frost" had been left in the open, near the remains of the boathouse, where they disintegrated and disappeared. But the hollow spars and much of the hardware were saved, and using dimensions on file in the archives of the Roosevelt Library, the "Jack Frost" was born again.

Under the supervision of Ray Ruge, a foremost ice yacht expert, and Lawrence, the "Jack. Frost" was reconstructed, incorporating the pieces of the original boat. However, the craftsmen did not reconstruct the original "Jack Frost", designed and built in 1883 but refashioned the one of 1900, a slightly different model.
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As was the custom then, during all the modifications she never lost her name. While the owner might have a new backbone constructed or alter the size of sails or runners, he would not change the name of his prize boat. So the name, "Jack Frost", was transferred from boat to boat over two decades and down through half a century as the ice‐yacht was created, modified, almost destroyed and eventually reconstructed.

It was a problem, locating and buying timbers large enough to reconstruct her. The Hudson River Ice Yacht Club procured 10 pieces of Sitka spruce from the West Coast. Sitka spruce grows only in Alaska and British Columbia and is especially prized for its uniform character and long, straight grain. The club paid $1,000 for this valuable wood.

The racing history of the "Jack Frost" is as unusual as the craft itself. Sailing for the Poughkeepsie Ice Yacht Club in 1883, her maiden year, she won the Ice Yacht Challenge Pennant of America, beating sailors and boats from North Shrewsbury, N.J. She won again in 1887, under the colors of the Hudson River Ice Yacht Club.

In 1893, she took on the Orange Lake Ice Yacht Club for the pennant, and the result was the same. There were two races for the pennant in 1902 and "Jack Frost" sailed home with the trophy both times.

Since then, the race for the challenge pennant and even the "Jack Frost" have almost become forgotten. They began to be “things that can wait till next year.” By World War I, ice yachting on the Hudson had all but vanished.

Thanks to the leadership of Ruge, Lawrence, Aldrich's son, Ricky, and many others, iceboating on the Hudson River is coming back strong.

Hudson Register Star, January 17, 1976    
Historic Ice Yacht Glides Down Hudson River Again
“Jack Frost”, four-time winner of the ice yacht Challenge Pennant …  was taken off the ice for many years. It was launched on Orange Lake in 1973 after the Hudson River Ice Sailing Club spent three years restoring it. In was put back on the Hudson (River) in January 1976 off Croton. In February it was trucked to Barrytown when the ice off Croton began to break up.  It needs at least six inches of ice to support its 2,500 pound weight.
 
Robert Bard of Red Hook, a Hudson River Ice Sailing Club member, said the restoration was completed by the combined effort of many persons who often met Tuesday evening after work to lavish attention on the boat.
 
Reid Bielenberg of Red Hook assisted with the rigging, and Bard helped mix adhesive. Other local men who helped in different stages were Dick Suggat of Rhinebeck, Earl A’Brial of Red Hook, Bob Fennel of Barrytown and Rick Aldrich of Barrytown.
 
Bard said the craft was launched at Barrytown with some difficulty, because of its weight and size. Its mast is more than 30 feet tall and seven inches in diameter. The boom is 33 feet long, and its main runners are 28 feet long.

Editor's Note: This article was originally written by Anthony P. Musso and published in the November 1, 2017 issue of the Poughkeepsie (NY) Journal. For information about current ice boating on the Hudson River go to White Wings and Black Ice here.  ​

HYDE PARK - On the east bank of the Hudson River along River Point Road in Hyde Park is a long, wood-frame structure that once served as a boathouse for John Aspinwall Roosevelt, uncle of former U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt. The parcel of land the building sits on was once part of an estate named Rosedale, which was owned by the late president's grandfather, Isaac.
     
Beginning in the mid- to late-18th century, wealthy families from New York City started to acquire large tracts of land to establish estates, many in Hyde Park. Names such as Bard, Roosevelt, Rogers, Langdon, Astor, Vanderbilt and Mills were among the most prominent.
     
A popular pastime for many of them became ice-yacht racing along the Hudson River. While it proved to be an exciting spectator sport for residents in the area, the activity was quickly dubbed a “rich man’s hobby.”
     
​Following the death of Isaac Roosevelt in 1863, his son John inherited Rosedale and had the boathouse erected to house his vessel, named Icicle. A champion ice yacht racer, Roosevelt's boat — at 68 feet, 10 inches long and boasting a sail spread of 1,070 square feet — was the largest ice boat in the world at the time. 

“Icicle is now owned by the New York State Museum {Editor Note: "Icicle is on loan from the National Park Service Home of Franklin Delano Roosevelt] and is currently on loan to the [Hudson River] Maritime Museum in Kingston,” said Jeffrey Urbin, education specialist at the FDR Presidential Library and Museum. The boathouse featured six casement windows, a paneled wooden door and a board and batten-hinged door. The lower portion of its northern end was constructed of stone. The design of the boathouse was crafted specifically to store Roosevelt's ice yacht fleet while the space available above was occupied by sails.
 
The building’s double-pitched roof provided additional space in the loft, in his younger years, FDR stored his 28-foot ice yacht, named Hawk, in the structure; the boat was a Christmas gift from his mother, Sara, in 1901.

In 1861, at 21 years old, John Roosevelt founded and became the commodore of the Poughkeepsie Ice Yacht Club and, in 1885, he founded and held the same position with the Hudson River Ice Yacht Club. Both organizations still exist today.

The area the boathouse occupies became known as Roosevelt Point and, during the latter part of the 19th and early 20th centuries, was used as the starting point for many world-class races held along the river. With a smaller version of the original Icicle — this one spanning 50 feet with a 750-square-foot sail area — John Roosevelt won the Ice Yacht Challenge Pennant of America in 1888, '89, ‘92 and ‘99. 

An additional structure that no longer exists at the site but once sat just south of the boathouse was known as the Roosevelt Point Cottage. Built in the 1850s as a tenant dwelling on the estate, records indicate that, from 1877 through 1886, it was occupied by Rosedale's gardener, Robert Gibson,
     
The cottage maintained a front room that featured a stove, in which ice yacht enthusiasts could find warmth while waiting for a favorable wind to take their vessels on the river.
     
“Ice yachting went into decline after 1912 as other pursuits, such as the automobile and airplane, captured the fascination of the public,” said John Sperr, of the Hudson River Ice Yacht Club. “World events were also a factor in the demise of ice yachting on the Hudson, as the onset of World War II found it necessary to keep the river open in winter so the large munitions and war material produced in Troy, Watervliet and Schenectady could be readily put into service.”
     
​The land the boathouse occupies was separated from Rosedale during the 1950s, when single-family homes were built on the former estate. Today, along with Isaac Roosevelt's house (located closer to Route 9), the boathouse remains vacant but an original remnant of the thriving 19th-century estate. 

Editor's Note: This article was by Raymond A. Ruge and originally published in the February 10, 1945 issue of "The Saturday Evening Post".  The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. For information about current ice boating on the Hudson River go to White Wings and Black Ice here.  ​

Once a rich man's game, iceboating today is a sport for anyone who has seventy-five dollars, a craving for speed—and plenty of ice.

ICE on the Shrewsbury! After half a dozen mild winters, the freeze-up of 1940 had clamped a ten-  inch layer of glassy ice over the shallow, brackish river. As if by magic, iceboats appeared from barns, garages, cellars and woodsheds, for this is real ice-boating country, where the sport's traditions run back nearly 100 years. And now the Eastern Ice Yachting Association had voted to hold its annual championship regatta on the famous New Jersey course. 

Two week ends of hard racing had all but completed the program. The pick of the fleets of twelve member clubs had fought for five class championships—an iceboat's class is based on sail area alone—from the tiny Class E Skeeters, with their pocket-handkerchief sails of only seventy-five square feet, to the big, powerful Class A racers, prides of the Shrewsbury, spreading 350 feet of creamy canvas. Between these came the champions of Class D, Class C and Class B, at 125, 175 and 200 square feet. There was just one race to go, the Open Championship, in which all these class champions fight it out without handicap to pick the year's undisputed king of the Eastern ice ways.
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Since early morning, the northwest gale had roared, driving the furred and helmeted skippers to shelter round the clubhouse stove. At the rear of the long room steamed a huge chowder bowl, brimful of tangy, salty brew, concocted from good home-grown Jersey clams by the master hand of the old salt who now pridefully dispensed it. For chowder's "on the house" at Red Bank when the ice is right.

Around the crackling stove, half a dozen younger skippers were tangled in argument with the veterans.

"Why, I can remember the Rocket—eight hunderd an' fifty foot of sail, she had! And you call those little things iceboats!"

"Okay, okay! Just wait till this race gets started—if it ever does!" 

Down the long side of the room was a workbench, where a pair of grimy characters filed away at long v-edged runners held in special blocks at just the proper angle. After filing the blades, they dressed them with light emery cloth and oil until they shone like polished silver.

"There. That ought to hold 'em," grunted one of the workers, as he straightened up and tossed aside his black oily gloves. "Only dirty job in this sport, but you can't get far without doing it, and you sure can't hire anybody to do it for you. How's for some chowder?"

"I'm your man," said his companion. "By the way, who's got a five-sixteenths drill?"

​"Look in my box—that green one under the bench," volunteered one of the men around the stove. 'Clearly, here was a gang who knew and respected one another. They swapped ideas, tools and equipment like sailors swapping telephone numbers after a six months' cruise—apparently with perfect confidence that all favors would be returned in kind whenever possible. The iceboaters are like that. Most of them build their own boats. They have a mutual love for a fast, hard sport—one which automatically weeds out all but the regular guys by the sheer discomfort and disappointments that are part of the game. 

Outside, halyards slapped a tattoo against shivering spars, taut rigging whistled and moaned, and canvas covers whipped viciously, as the fleet stood by, five champions waiting eagerly for the first lull that would permit starting of the Open. Finally, it came.
"Start at 3:15!" flashed the committee. Chowder was forgotten, the stove abandoned, as flying suits were pulled on and helmets buckled down. Shouldering runners, which are always removed at nightfall to prevent rusting, and toting sail bags, the crews lunged out into the gale. Canvas covers were stripped from gleaming mahogany and spruce. Lead weights were strapped to runner planks, runners and rigging given a last check-over before sails were hoisted for the jolting, grinding punishment to come.

"Course shortened to ten miles! Leave all marks to starboard! Skippers and crews ready! Spectators keep back!"
​
And there were plenty of spectators, for this was the race that Red Bank had been waiting for. The Class A yachts of time-honored stern-steering design had been undisputed speed kings of the ice for a quarter of a century. Then in the early 1930's, in Wisconsin, where iceboating flourishes under the sponsorship of the Northwestern Ice Yachting Association, a few daring pioneers tried a boat that reversed the usual arrangement, and steered from a single runner up front, something like Sister Susie's tricycle. They gave it a boxlike fuselage for a hull, so the pilot could sit upright and see where he was going—surely desirable at seventy miles an hour. He also was seated down inside the hull, so he could stay aboard without having to be an acrobat as well as a sailor. The traditional jib-and-mainsail rig gave way to the simpler cat, with its single sail. And, surprisingly, the new reverse-English jobs began trimming the pants off the older-style boats. By 1940, several had been brought East, and here they were at Red Bank, daring to tackle the old-style boats of nearly five times their sail area. Even the boldest of the young folks had to admit that the little eighteen-foot Western-built Skeeter, with its one-man crew, looked like a toy out there beside the thirty-five-foot Class A entry boast-ing both a skipper and a sheet tender.

The roar of the cannon sent them away. As the boats leaped away down-river, the big A left the others far behind. Turning the lower mark, she started across the lower river on the outer leg of the triangular course and was nearly a quarter mile ahead.

The old-timers chuckled. "See what we told you? Those little mahogany cracker boxes can't stay with a real ice-boat. Look where they are already!"

Up the river now, they crisscrossed as they tacked their way into the teeth of the gale toward the home stake. Three of the five starters were already far behind, but the little boat was moving up! This was going to be a race, after all. As the mighty Goliath of the river roared up and around the mark to start the second lap, right on her heels, not 100 yards behind, was that pesky little cracker box, the smallest boat in the race. Down the river again, lost in the flying snow. Across the outer leg and back up that wicked zigzag leg to windward. This time the Skeeter was even closer—a hornet chasing an eagle.

 At the end of the third lap, they were even. One to go, and it was anybody's race. Downstream they went, down and across the outer leg, the eagle still ahead, but the hornet right on her tail. The last leg would tell the story. Up they came tacking, turning, fighting for every inch. Then the tiny Skeeter slipped past the big boat not a quarter mile from the finish, and went on to win by fifteen seconds.
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The victory emphasized the fact that iceboating had switched from a rich man's game, with an outlay of $2500 or more for a top-flight racer, to a sport for the average man. The Skeeter that won the 1940 Open cost $350, complete—about as much as a single set of runners for the big yacht she had so neatly trimmed. Annual maintenance on a Skeeter runs in the neighborhood of a ten-dollar bill. By building their own boats, many fans cut the initial cost be-low the $200 mark. For transportation, a car-top carrier or a small two-wheeled trailer does the trick. 

Iceboating had found a level where al-most anyone who wanted to could enjoy it. New clubs sprang up wherever there was ice enough to sail the boats. Be-tween 1931 and 1941, the number of ice-boats in active use was just about quadrupled. Allowing the usual quota of one owner—the skipper—and at least two or three enthusiastic pals per boat, the number of iceboaters was multiplied by twelve to sixteen. More accurate figures are impossible to get. Although organized iceboating was discontinued for the duration, after the regattas of 1942, informal sailing is today going on as usual.

Whenever the conversation gets around to iceboating, there are certain questions that always turn up. The first one, of course, goes: "Well, all kidding aside, how fast do they really go?" And right off the bat we run into the mystery of "faster than the wind." Actually, ice-boats do sail faster than the wind—a whole lot faster, in fact—but only when they're sailing across the wind, not running along with it. An iceboat moves so easily on her polished metal runners that a half-ton boat, once under way, can be pushed along by any ten-year-old, and there's practically no increase in ice friction as the speed increases. At the same time, the sharp V edges of the runners completely eliminate sideslip, so that every ounce of power developed by the sail goes into forward motion. As a result, when the boat is sailed directly across the wind stream, so the wind tries to push her sideways, her runners say "Nothing doing," and she has to slip ahead out of this squeeze play like a watermelon seed popping out from between your fingers.

Furthermore, the forward movement of the boat immediately brings into action a second air flow, equal to the speed of the boat, and coming from dead ahead. Her sails don't feel it, but they don't feel the same breeze as a person standing still, either. What they get and what actually drives the boat is a combination of the true wind and the air current caused by the boat's motion. This combined breeze is known as the "apparent wind," and because iceboats move so easily, they soon build up their apparent wind to a velocity far higher than that of the real wind. They can keep on working the squeeze play and the wind build-up until they get up to about four times the original wind speed. Then the apparent wind is coming from so nearly dead ahead that they can't build it up any more. But four times the speed of the wind is enough for anybody.

​Now you can begin to understand how Long Branch's famous Commodore Price broke every speed record on the books by sailing the Clarel 140 miles an hour one winter day in 1908. He didn't have a hurricane—just a typical winter westerly, with puffs hitting forty or forty-five, and he got the old girl going at just the right angle. Debutante III, of Oshkosh, claims 119 in a race on Gull Lake, Michigan. Flying Dutchman, of the same club, is credited with 124. Both these records are to the credit of the famous skipper, John Buckstaff, of Oshkosh. 

Iceboats, however, don't always go tearing around four times as fast as the wind. Most of the time their speed is closer to twice the wind speed, and because they have to tack to get to wind-ward, they cover a greater distance than the measured course in every race. The real test of a boat's ability is what she can do around a course from a standing start. A comparison of old records with new will show what streamlining and modern rigs have done for speed. In 1892, the famous Jack Frost-720 square feet—set a record by sailing a twenty-mile race on the Hudson River at an average speed of 38.3 miles per hour. Actual distance: 31.4 miles; time: 49 minutes, 30 seconds. Almost a half century later, Charette II, carrying 125 square feet of sail, covered a ten-mile course in 11 minutes, 33 seconds at an average speed of 51.9 miles an hour to win the Eastern Open Championship for 1941.

Having been convinced that iceboats really do make time, our questioner in-variably follows up with this one: "At speeds like that, how do you ever stop the darned things?" Stopping is actually a cinch, provided the skipper hasn't made that basic error known to the trade as "running out of ice." Iceboats will stop in a surprisingly short distance, if they are headed straight into the wind.

"Isn't it dangerous?" In the hands of a fool or a show-off, yes. But properly handled—and it's easy—iceboats are a lot safer than automobiles. For one thing, there's no lurking ditch, nor is there a line of fence posts and a stream of opposing traffic. There's plenty of room; collisions are practically unheard of. Furthermore, with her sharp runners, an iceboat can be steered within a fraction of an inch of where her skipper wants to send her, with one exception. The older type of boat, with stern rudder, some-times will take matters into her own hands, kick up her heels and do a whirling dervish, spinning around two or three times as if trying to shake off both skipper and crew. And sometimes she succeeds.

In 1931, Starke Meyer, of Milwaukee, did some experimenting with models he hoped would lick the spin problem. He decided to reverse the traditional design and give the bow steerer a try. In the next few seasons he built several, all named Paula. The bow steerer turned out to be tremendously fast. Even more encouraging, she proved to be spin-proof. Paula's offspring can be numbered in the thousands. Most numerous are the ubiquitous Skeeters.

In fairness, however, it should be pointed out that, while the bow steerer won't spin and toss you off, she's a dangerous lady in a capsize. She lifts her crew high in the air as she rears, and if she goes over, they may be tossed out from a height of eight or ten feet or, even worse, have the whole works fall with them, in case the mast breaks. A few bad spills of this type occurred when bow steerers were younger and not so well understood. In recent years, skippers have learned always to carry the main sheet—the rope that controls the sail—so that it can be slipped a bit if the boat tries to hike more than a few inches. They have found that the boat makes better speed if she is kept down on the ice than when one runner is reaching for the sky, the way you see them in the newsreels. Since there is no profit and there is real danger in carrying a hike too far, capsizes these days are rare indeed. When they do occur, you may be sure that they are the result of just plain bad driving.

We can just about ignore the old question, "Isn't it terribly cold?" 'Sure it's cold. But everybody gets outdoors in the winter nowadays, and all you have to do is dress for it. For coldest days, ice-boaters smear their faces with camphor ice, petroleum jelly or cold cream, and their lips with pomade—don't laugh, brother; a split lip is no joke—as do skiers, fliers, mountain climbers and lots of other outdoor sportsmen.
​
And so we get to the key questions: "Isn't it expensive?" and "How do I get started?" The Skeeter, professionally built at $350, home-built for $75 to $200, has pretty well settled the financial matter, for a good Skeeter is just as fast as anything else, and a lot less trouble. In the old days, when speed was more or less proportional to size, enormous yachts were built, at costs running into the thousands. Largest of all was the Icicle, owned by President Roosevelt's uncle, Commodore John E. Roosevelt, of the Hudson River Ice Yacht Club at Hyde Park. Originally built in 1869, she was enlarged and remodeled until she reached the amazing length of sixty-nine feet and lugged a thousand-square-foot spread of canvas. 

She has been carefully preserved, and now rests in the Roosevelt museum at Hyde Park. By 1890, she was being consistently beaten by much smaller but more efficient craft, and the big boats gradually dropped into the discard.

The largest yacht still sailing is the Debutante III, owned by Douglas and Camp van Dyke, of Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Carrying 618 square feet of sail in a towering rig that completely dwarfs every other boat in sight, she has seen both the Hearst and the Stuart cups, iceboating's premier trophies, lifted from her by smaller boats. The Hearst Cup now rests at Madison, jealously guarded by the 350-square-footer Fritz, owned by Fritz Jungbluth and sailed by Carl Bernard. The Stuart Cup is in Detroit, won and held by Rex Jacobs' fine 350-square-footer Ferdinand, under the able handling of George Hendrie. And even these super-racers have now and again been beaten by little bow steerers carrying 175 square feet or less, which means that a $350 Skeeter will put you right up there with the best of them.

Of real importance is the ease with which these little boats can be transported. In the East, for example, the Skeeter crowd has actually stretched the season from a former average of two months to the present one of nearer four. Opening the season on the earliest ice, up in the hills around Kent, Connecticut, they move down into Southern New York to Orange and Greenwood lakes, or into Northern Jersey to Lakes Hopatcong and Musconetcong. If it's a really hard winter, like that of 1940, the lakes will be snowed under. But there's bound to be ice on the Shrewsbury. So south-ward they go, for a Skeeter can be knocked down ready for the road in half an hour. As the winter wears along, the trek is reversed, until the last days of March find them back in Connecticut, winding up the season in glorious spring sunshine. In Massachusetts, New Hampshire and Maine, most of the large lakes sport a few boats, and there are several clubs of considerable size. If you're a Midwesterner, Lake St. Clair, at Detroit, Gull Lake, near Kalamazoo, Fox Lake, northwest of Chicago, Lakes Geneva, Mendota, Pewaukee and Winnebago in Wisconsin, or White Bear and Minnetonka in Minnesota, are the hot spots. There are lots of others, and it's a safe bet you live within an hour's drive of iceboating if you're in those latitudes.

And don't think it's all racing. Not by a long shot. Many an enthusiastic ice-boater never races. He probably likes to use tools, and he likes to get outdoors in the wintertime with a group of con-genial spirits. He gets a tremendous kick out of iceboating, even though race day finds him serving on the committee instead of clipping buoys.

The best way to get started is to go where the boats are and get talking to the people who sail them. You'll find them more than friendly, glad to give you a ride, and ready to welcome you heartily if you really get the bug and decide to acquire a boat. Even if you are a fine craftsman and are pretty sure you know just what you want to build, it is far wiser to buy your first iceboat, preferably secondhand. You'll learn a lot about what makes a good one good after you've sailed, rigged and played with one for a couple of seasons. Then is the time to build that superboat for yourself. And many's the fellow who's done it. Fritz, the boat we met a few lines back, winner in 1934 of the Hearst Cup, Stuart Cup, Northwestern Class A and Free-for-All Championships; Elizabeth R., owned and sailed by Rube White, of Red Bank, holder of the North American Class A Pennant; Scout, last winner-1922—of the Ice Yacht Challenge Pennant of America, sailed by Capt. Frank Drake, of New Hamburg, who still sails every winter, though shading seventy; my own, Charette II, four times Eastern Class C Champion and twice winner of the Eastern Open—all are home-built boats.
​
Iceboating flourished in Northeastern Europe for many years. Stockholm, Riga and Berlin boasted many clubs and active fleets of yachts. Just before the war, the nations around the Baltic Sea banded together into the Europiiischen Eissegel Union, and sailed annual inter-national championships in several sail-area classes. It may well be that the next winter Olympics will see the inauguration of truly international ice yachting. Steps toward this end were under way when war broke out. Once it's over, you can look for more and faster iceboating wherever Jack Frost hangs his hat.

                                              ICE YACHTING AT POUGHKEEPSIE.
           
Sir,—I thought I would send you a little account of the sport an old subscriber of yours is enjoying at present.  My profession — that of a civil engineer — carries me into all parts of the country, and sometimes I am fortunate enough to run across good sport of one kind or another, fishing and duck shooting being my general pastime; but at present I am located at the head-quarters of a sport less common, viz., ice boating, which beats everything I ever engaged in in this country.  You cannot credit the amount of speed these boats gather until you have ridden in one with a good stiff breeze blowing off shore.  The frames of the boats are mere skeletons.  The chief timbers are placed in the form of a T; the centre timber, including bowsprit, is generally about 50ft. in length, and the cross piece or runner plank about 20ft.  The commonest rig is jib and mainsail; the cat rig is sometimes used, and this season the lateen rig is coming into favour.  A boat this size can be built for £100.  The sailing is very simple; she wears without gybing, and tacks without trimming sails, which are always trimmed flat aft, unless the wind is very strong on her beam, then the sheet is allowed to go off a foot or so.  A mile a minute is common speed, and is often beaten.   Here are some records: The Snowflake made nine miles from here to New Hamburgh in seven minutes; the Haze made the same time, at one part of the run doing two miles in one minute.  In 1879 the Comet, Phantom, Zephyr, and Magic together sailed ten miles in ten minutes; most of the time the wind blew so hard that their windward runners were elevated at an angle of 46°.  There is very little friction on the runners, but the boats never make any leeway except with a very high wind and smooth ice.

If any of your subscribers should happen to be in this country this time next season, they could not enjoy themselves better than by coming up here, where they will find a good hotel, and will be very well received by the members of the club.  This is the height of the season, the afternoon sun melting the snow, and the night frost making a hard smooth surface for morning. To-day, if there is any wind, the champion pennant is to be sailed for. — Edwr. T. N. MACDOUGALL. Poughkeepsie, N.Y., Feb. 14. — Field. The Cumberland Mercury (Parramatta, NSW, June 4, 1887. 1887-06-04 -- The Cumberland Mercury (Parramatta, NSW)

It is a quiet, cold evening in December 1918. Spread-eagled on the extreme end of our dock, I am fascinated by watching the lake start to freeze. First the surface stops moving, becomes smooth and still - then, suddenly, it wrinkles up into sheets of frozen surface-film, with long crystals spreading out all over. In a few minutes, the frozen film is actually thick enough to lift - very carefully - but of course it is delicate and fragile.

Suddenly my mother's voice calls down from the house, and I have to abandon my scientific research into how ice really forms - but I had seen enough so I have never forgotten it. The entire experience of growing up by the side of a beautiful lake which provided swimming, fishing, sailing, skating and eventually iceboating colored my life from then on - I was eight when we moved there, and twenty-seven when we were forced to abandon the place by the implacable march of the Great Depression.

Of all the activities that Lake Mahopac offered, those I loved the most were those of Winter. Both my parents were excellent skaters - I recall at the age of five I was equipped with a proper pair of single-runner skates firmly attached to shoes, taken to a rink in New York, given a little push and told to "Skate!"

Of course it took a few minutes to get the hang of it - but by mid-afternoon I was waddling around the rink on my own - no holding of parental hands. The folks knew, of course, that double-runner skates are an abomination, and that holding someone's hand is really no help either until after one reaches puberty! Then the motivation is quite another story.

So here is a ten-year-old, excited about winter and all it has I to offer up there in the country, and also an avid reader. I found a book by Ralph Henry Barbour entitled Iceboat Number One in the school library. Clearly this was my undoing - or doing, which ever way you look at it. The story was a typical boy's book - the hero built his own boat, and finally beat the rich boy who had a fancy professionally-built boat, but didn't know how to sail it very well. It didn't take me long to identify with the local hero - but how to begin? 

Right here is where my father's support became what made it all happen. First he bought us a litte book - as it turned out, one of the best books on the subject that existed at that time - about 1920. The title was simply “Ice Boating”, but the contents included articles by most of the leading sportsmen of the time, including the famous Archibald Rogers, owner of “Jack Frost”, last winner of the Ice Yacht Challenge Pennant of America. Mr. Rogers' reminiscences of sailing and racing on the Hudson opened our eyes to a really terrific sport - plagued by the vagaries of weather, as always, but truly terrific when it could be done.

Our immediate problem, now that our appetite was whetted, was what sort of boat could we build, with our limited resources and complete lack of facilities to enable us to even dream of a craft like “Jack Frost”, or even a miniature of her. We did have the rig of my father's sailing canoe - strictly Old Town, vintage 1913. We decided to put together something to carry that rig, and see what we could do.

This had to be built of material at hand - planks, framing lumber remaining from the building of our house a year or two earlier. What emerged was a triangular platform with 2x8 planks on edge surrounding it - to keep us from falling out The mast was stepped in a wooden block, and stayed with odd pieces of wire - probably wire clothes line. Three little turnbuckles served to keep this in some sort of order, and the sail hung well enough exactly as it had on the canoe.

Of course, here we were ready to set forth, but on what? What do we do for runners? We had learned enough from our little book to understand that runners had to be sharpened to a V-edge, must have some slight rocker rather than be dead straight on the bottom, and so forth. It was clearly time for Dad to step in again. After all, he was an engineer, he understood the problem, and as it turned out, he knew where to go for help - Naylor's Foundry, in Peekskill. He made some sketches and after a few days, the word came that our runners were ready. They were cut from 313" steel plate, sharpened to a V on the bottom, and hung between pairs of angle irons on a single bolt, so they could rock. The rudder-post and tiller were a little more complex, but they worked OK, which was the main purpose.

It was easy enough to mount these steel parts on our little platform - we were ready to launch! Imagine the excitement by all hands - Mother included (after all, she had learned to skate on the Hudson River and had often hooked a ride behind the local iceboats). To our delight, the little rig sailed fine. As it turned out, the real beneficiaries of this craft were my folks, who sailed it by daylight and by moonlight, while I was away at school playing hockey and getting myself ready for college.

During my college years - 1925-1931 - a fellow-sailor from the Lake who had some remains of a big Hudson River iceboat that had been allowed to lie outdoors in the summer time (the "kiss of death" for any wooden boat not properly covered) - decided to use the rig of his one-design sailboat and build a simple 24-foot boat to carry it. He was lucky to have those fine Hudson River runners - with the good spars and sails he also had, from the summer-sailing class on the Lake, the rest was easy enough. His boat sailed very well - so well that I resolved to go and do likewise - since I too had a sailing rig from the summer boat.

The obvious gap in my equipment was runners, rudder-post and tiller. I resolved to go to New Jersey - Red Bank and Long Branch - where there were lots of iceboats. I finally salvaged a set of runners from a marsh where they had been thrown when the shed where the boat was stored had burned down. This meant the owner no longer had a boat, and had about given up on iceboating. He sold me the lot for a ten-dollar bill. I had my work cut out for me - the shoes were terribly rusty and pitted, and even the oak tops had started to rot. But persistence and plenty of sweat resulted in a fine set of runners, when they were finally finished. The iron was excellent, which I surely did not realize when I found them. Admittedly, I was lucky (and persistent).

This boat sailed very well - in fact, with her good runners and sails, she had a head start on most of the others that were around at that time.

By now, I was an avid iceboater, and the Depression provided me with opportunities for working on boats and sailing them which would never have existed in more prosperous times. At that time (1935-6-7) I was running a small resort hotel, and in the winter, there wasn't much going on during the week. So I tinkered with boats and sailed them whenever possible.
​
In the January 1935 issue of “The Sportsman” magazine, there appeared an article about the great mid-western breakthrough in iceboat design - the advent of the front-steering boat, in Wisconsin. These first bow-steerers were large, like their stern-steering predecessors in the more successful racing classes. But a series of very serious capsizes nearly caused the whole idea of bow-steering to be abandoned while yet really untried. The problem was not with bow-steering per se, but with lack of understanding of the proper size, weight and design of a successful boat that steered from the bow. 

The way to go turned out to be small, rather than large. A man named Walter Beauvais built what he called the “Beau-Skeeter”, only about twelve feet long with an eight-foot cross-plank. Because it was small and light, it could be sailed on the ragged edge of a capsize without fear or danger - if it went over, the pilot fell only a few feet, and by "starting" the sheet, he often kept it right-side-up anyway. The fact that the driver always went up when a bow-steerer "hiked", carried with it the message of possible trouble, and resulted in many improvements in the “Beau-Skeeter” design.

The Palmer Boat Company of Fontana, Wisconsin on Lake Geneva, brought out some very fast single-and-two-seater skeeters that opened my eyes rudely the first time I encountered them on Greenwood Lake. I had won a race the day before with the boat that carried my Lake Mahopac one-design sloop rig, and I thought she was at the least, a pretty good iceboat for the time. We set up a little scrub race between my boat and two of these Palmer skeeters, and they sailed three laps to my two. That was convincing enough -clearly the bow-steerer was the faster type, regardless of size or sail area.

This had continued to be true - the only interest that today exists among the older stern-steerers is confined to racing within their own classes in the Eastern Ice Yachting Association, and competing for certain trophies that are restricted to the classic type. They are entirely different in action and in speed, but they require enough skill to present a challenge -as long as you don't have to be the fastest boat out there.

In the meantime, over the past half-century, the so-called “Skeeter”, which started at 12 ft. long x 8 ft wide, has grown to 24 to 26 ft long and 16 to 18 ft wide, still carrying (theoretically) the original 75 square feet of sail. By taking full advantage of a loophole in the sail-area rule which permits a 12-inch "roach" or projection outside of the straight chord of the sail's leech, with 24 to 26-foot masts, giving a long leech, the actual sail area now being carried is closer to 90 sq. ft. Speeds have jumped into the unbelievable regions - there is even a story from Wisconsin (the hotbed of the big Skeeters) of a boat reputed to have been "clocked" by a State Policeman's radar at over 150 miles per hour.

There are many reasons why this is possible - suffice it to say here that the big, long, "lean and mean" skeeter is the fastest thing on the ice today.
​
Back in the 1936-1937 days, I got involved in building the very best boat I could, following the overall setup of the big Palmer boat that looked to be unreachable. Surely as to finish and fittings she was far out of my reach - but it turned out some of the basic design decisions I had made were correct, and I beat her on every occasion we raced. That is another story - suffice it to say that my 1937 boat, named “Charette II” reposes today in the New York State Museum in Albany, contemplating her medals and past trophies. It has been a nice wind-up to a lengthy career. Ray Ruge. 

After a trial of all the sports of all the year, from running foamy rapids in your own canoe to sailing over the earth on the wings of an airplane, the honest critic will award the palm to Ice Boating for its unrivaled excitement, its unapproached speed and its glorious intoxication. No man ever believed that he had been nipped by the frost while he was making his first trip in an ice yacht; his fast beating heart was pumping too much red blood through his delighted body to permit any such thing!
           
Ninety miles an hour is credibly reported as the occasional speed of the ice yacht. The greatest authority on the subject is of the opinion that no real limit can be set for the speed of the craft, since ideal conditions of wind and weather and ice, and ideal construction of the craft for utilizing these conditions have never been combined and probably never will be. It is known beyond the shadow of a doubt, however, that the ice yacht can and does sail faster than the wind which is blowing at the time, strange as this statement may appear to the uninformed. For the absolute beauty of motion, with least sensation of striving after speed, with smallest appreciable evidence of friction, and almost utter absence of that noise which is the general accompaniment of all fast traveling, the ice yacht is absolutely unique and unsurpassed. An initiation trip of a few miles will furnish sensations so novel and so fascinating as to be incomparable with any other sport the winter lover has tested; he will be a hardened and blasé soul if then and there he does not vow further acquaintance with the thrilling pastime.
           
The ice yacht is a development of the ice boat, which was a square box set on steel runners and propelled by a sail. It may be said that for purposes of easy definition the only differences now existing between an ice boat and an ice yacht are differences of cost; like the “pole” of the country boy angler and the “rod” of  the city angler, both the ice boat and the ice yacht have the same uses and furnish the same sport. If the craft is simple and perhaps home-made it will probably be an ice boat; if it is made by professionals, with due reference to the “center of effort” in the placing of sails, has red velvet cushions and that sort of thing, you are privileged to call it an ice yacht. Either one will give all the sport any reasonable man is entitled to in this wicked world.
           
Ice yachts cost between $500 and $5,000, although there is said to be at least one which cost over this latter figure. Ice boats cost from $5 up, depending largely upon who does the work of making them. Along the lower reaches of the Hudson River there are any number of successful ice boats which cost less than $25 apiece, and they furnish magnificent sport. Any small boy with a knack for mechanical work can make himself an ice boat that will serve every purpose and teach him the rudiments of steering and managing the craft; and he will find many surprises in learning the new sport, even though he may be a clever small boat sailor on water.
           
​The handsomest and finest ice yachts in the world are found along the Hudson River in New York State, near the city of Poughkeepsie. There are also many fine ice yachts used on the Shrewsbury River in New Jersey, on Orange Lake, Newburgh, N.Y., on Lakes George and Champlain, and a very considerable interest in the sport among the winter-loving sportsmen of the northwestern United States, especially Wisconsin, Michigan and Minnesota. With that daring characteristic of the western folks, the ice yachts of the Northwest seem to be planned more with reference to general use under all conditions of smooth, rough or snowy ice than some of the more highly perfected eastern craft which are seldom used unless conditions are perfect. Thus the westerner gets a much larger amount of sport out of the season than the easterner; fourteen days of good sport is all that some of the eastern yacht enthusiasts expect during a full season.

While there are several interesting designs of ice yachts in general use among the experts of the sport, and any number of “freak” designs, some of which have demonstrated their ability to walk away with handsome prizes, there has come to be comparative uniformity as to the general lines of construction. And from these lines it would be best for the ice yacht builder not to deviate too much, although minor constructive details still leave considerable room for experiment and originality.
           
The generally accepted design of the fastest and best ice yachts is that of a cross, in which the center timber, also sometimes called the backbone or the hull, running fore and aft, is crossed, just a little forward of half its length, by the runner plank. A successful western design consists of two center timbers spread apart several feet in the center of the craft and joined at the forward end, or bowsprit, and at the extreme stern, where the rudder is located, The best material for the backbone or center timber is either basswood or butternut. Oak is generally used for the runner plank; clear spruce for the mast and spars. The cockpit or seat is merely a place for the steersman and guests to half lie or half sit, and is generally provided with a combing and rails. Cushions of hair, cork, moss, or hay are provided. All running gear, except the main sheet rope, is of plow steel rope or flexible wire. Sails are of cross-cut pattern used in racing water yachts.
           
The most important items of the ice yacht, after the frame, are the runners and the rudder. Here great care should be exercised to get the right thing. Certain fixed standards of material, design and hang are almost universal. The runners and the rudder, which are almost identical in shape, are of V-shaped castings; the very best grade of cast iron seems to be the most preferred. The fact that, after a few weeks of sailing, these runners have to be sharpened, and that the friction and heat developed in their use gives them a dense hardening which it takes considerable filing to penetrate, warrants the use of runner material not too hard at the start. Tool steel, Norway iron, phosphor bronze and even brass have been used; the best results seem to come from good quality castings. There is difference of opinion whether there should be rock to the runner or considerable flat area, but the consensus of opinion favors a slight rock to the runners and less to the rudder. Between the rudder and the bottom of the cockpit a large rubber block is inserted to take some of the jar and vibration. The runners are permanently fastened to the runner plank, allowing play up and down, while the rudder is set in a rudder post which has a Y at the lower end, allowing the rudder vertical motion. The tiller should be a long iron bar wrapped with cord, lest some thoughtless guest, with perspired hand, comes to grief. Cockpit rails should be similarly wrapped.
           
The craft to which reference has so far been made is of the general Hudson River pattern. No dimensions have been given, but for the further information of the interested reader planning to enter the sport, the following dimensions of a successful ice yacht of this type are here appended. The figures will be useful to those planning smaller craft if the same proportions are observed, although the size, known as the Two Hundred and Fifty Square Foot Area Design, has proven itself especially useful as an all-around fast ice yacht for the largest number of days. Backbone, 30 feet over all, 4 1/2 inches thick, 11 inches wide at runner plank; nose, 3 1/2 inches; heel, 4 3/4 inches; runner plank over all, 16 feet 8 inches; cut of runners, 16 feet; length of cockpit, 7 feet 6 inches; width, 3 feet 7 inches. Mast stepped 9 feet 6 inches aft of backbone tip. The rig is jib and mainsail; dimensions of jib, on stay, 12 feet; leech, 9 feet 9 inches; foot, 7 feet 3 inches; mainsail, hoist, 12 feet; gaff, 10 feet 3 inches; leech, 24 feet; boom, 18 feet. Sail area, 248.60. Such a craft as this can be built for about $200.
           
The ice yacht sailor will learn many things about sailing which he never learned from handling water craft. The sails are trimmed flat all the time in ice yacht sailing. There is no such thing as “going before the wind” with free sheet, in the manner familiar to water yachtsmen, for the excellent reason that no ice yacht will hold its direction sailing in this fashion, in wind of any considerable speed. The marvelous ease with which the craft is steered will amaze every yachtsman, especially those familiar with the hard helm of the average catboat. Many a beginner at the Ice Yachting game turns his tiller too sharply and finds himself flung off and sailing away over the smooth ice while his craft spins on her center. The ordinary way to stop the craft is to run up into the wind; sometimes the rudder is turned square across the direction after this position is attained, and a quick stop can thus be made, but it is a severe strain on the craft. Ice yachts are “anchored” by heading them into the wind, loosening the jib sheets and turning the rudder crosswise. Frequently passengers or crew are carried on the extreme cuter edges of the runner plank, and the sensation when this runner gradually rises in the air is thrilling indeed. It is not generally regarded as good sailing, however, to have the runners leave the ice much. It is much better and much safer for the amateur at the sport to learn something of the handling of the craft from experienced friends before he ventures abroad alone; there are immense boulders away up on the dry land of the Hudson’s shores which have been the lodging places of some fine new ice yachts that the tyro sailors could not even steer, much less stop.
 
The most interesting novelty in ice-yachting seen in recent years is the invention of Mr. William H. Stanbrough of Newburgh, N.Y., and consists of a cockpit which can be made to swing from side to side of the yacht, according to the point of sailing, etc. The cockpit rests on the runner plank and on a track, and is provided with wheels which permit it to run easily back and forth. The center of the cockpit is well forward, providing better distribution of weight and, by means of drums and cables, the steering is managed from a tiller post, much as the steering of the sailing canoe is done. The shifting of weight makes it possible to either keep the craft on three runners or to lift the windward runner in the air at will. The device has been tested for several seasons and is enthusiastically praised by those who have adopted it.
           
The greatest authority on ice yachting in America is the noted sportsman, Mr. Archibald Rogers, of Hyde Park, N.Y., whose interest in the sport is not confined to the handling of his famous ice yachts, among which the “Jack Frost” ranks first, but includes as well scientific researches as to materials for construction of the ice yacht, and whose amateur workshop and ice yacht house is a storehouse of information on the sport. The most successful builder of ice yachts is George Buckhout, Poughkeepsie, N.Y., builder of the famous successes, “Jack Frost,” owned by Mr. Archibald Rogers, and “Icicle,” Mr. John Roosevelt, owner, and many Western ice yachts.
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                                   THE GREAT SOUTH BAY “SCOOTER”
Valuable as is the ice yacht as a gift of America to the sport of the world, it is probable that the craft known as the “Scooter,” which originated on the waters of the Great South Bay, Long Island, N.Y., excels it in value, for already this unique inventions been taken up not merely by the sportsmen of the world but by hundreds of others whose requirements for sport and work the odd craft seems exactly to fill. Many lives have already been saved by the “scooter,” and its growing popularity wherever open water, which wholly or partly freezes, is found, indicates that it has an important future. The “scooter” may be properly classed among ice yachts, since it truly sails successfully over ice. But it does much more than this, for it will also sail in water, safely go from ice to open water and back again from open water to ice. There is no craft or machine, so far devised by man, so nearly similar to the amphibious wild duck, and the simplicity of the construction of the craft, as well as its ease handling, renders it more than ordinarily interesting and valuable to seekers after novelties in sport that are worth while.
           
The “scooter” is an evolution. It is a cross between the round-nosed spoon bottomed ducking boat rigged with sails and the old pioneer ice boat which was nothing more than a square box on iron runners. Some of the best “scooters” now in use on the Great South Bay were built by men who never did a stroke of boat building before. Some were built by boys. Anybody can build one, and the completed craft, sails and all, ought not to cost over $100. They are the safest, the most compact, the easiest stowed, the most durable, and the greatest sports furnishing toys for their cost and size which the winter loving folks of the world have so far been introduced to. Let’s get acquainted with them. 
 
Imagine the bowls of two wooden spoons 15 feet long, with a width, or beam, of 4 to 5 feet. The upper wooden shell, which is the deck of the craft, is curved over from bow to stern and from one side to the other like the back of a turtle. The lower wooden shell is almost a duplicate of the upper one, which makes the craft almost flat bottomed. There is no keel or centerboard or opening of any kind on the bottom. There is a cockpit about 5 feet long and about 2 feet wide, around which runs a heavy combing 3 inches high and very solidly built. The runners of the craft are 20 inches apart, along 10 feet of the bottom, are slightly rocked, 1 inch wide and 1 1/2 inch high. They are of steel or brass, the latter allowing of quick sharpening for races or hard ice.
           
The mast, set well aft, is about 10 feet in height, and the handiest rig is jib and mainsail, the latter either with boom and gaff or sprit. A small boom for the foot of the jib is customary, and in the handling of this jib is the whole secret of steering and managing the craft. The bowsprit should be large and project about 3 feet beyond the hull. In many “scooters” the bowsprit is made removable so that larger ones may be substituted for changes in weather. The spread of sail in a “scooter” is lateral rather than high, and must be well astern since the canvas of the craft is all that is used to steer her, no rudder of any kind being used. A “scooter” of 10 foot mast will carry a mainsail having an 8 foot gaff and a 15 foot boom, with a leech of about 15 feet. The foot of the jib will be 7 feet and the leech the same, or slightly more.

The material used for the making of the “scooter” is generally pine and oak. Additional items of the equipment consist of a pike pole having sharpened ends and a pair of oars. Steering is done by a combination use of the jib, change in the location of the skipper or crew, and occasionally by the manipulation of the mainsail. By paying out the jib sheet and hauling in on the mainsheet, the “scooter” will come up into the wind like a fin keel water yacht; she will do this even more prettily if the weight of the skipper or crew is moved slightly forward, throwing weight on the forward part of the runners. Like an ice yacht, the “scooter” does not sail well before the wind; one must tack before the wind as well as into it. Two is the customary crew, although three are sometimes carried.

Open water must be dived into exactly straight or an upset will occur. Manipulation of the mainsail and jib is most important at this critical point of sailing. To climb up from the open water onto ice again is easier for the “scooter” than one would believe who has not seen it. The weight of the crew is shifted aft, there is a bit of helping with the sharp crook of the pike pole and off she goes over the smooth ice again.
           
The headquarters of the “scooter” interest is found in the vicinity of Patchogue, Long Island, N.Y., and the picturesque events run off there every winter draw thousands of New Yorkers. The most noted designer and builder of “scooters” is Henry V. Watkins of Bellport, N.Y., on the Great South Bay, and the patron saint of the quaint new sport is the noted sportsman, raconteur and host, Captain Bill Graham, of The Anchorage, Blue Point, Long Island. The seeker after something novel in winter entertainment is strongly urged to make the acquaintance of the new sport of “Scootering” as practiced here in Great South Bay, where the sport was born.

Today's Media Monday treat is all about ice boating! This short film, produced for British Pathe, shows ice boats speeding around Greenwood Lake, which is on the border between New York and New Jersey. Great footage of how the ice boats operated. 

The film was produced by British Pathe for the LNER (London North Eastern Railway) line in Britain, which had a cinema car on its trains designed to show short newsreels like this one for the entertainment of passengers. Yes, Greenwood Lake iceboats were being viewed in London! 

If you'd like to learn more about ice boats, be sure to visit the Hudson River Maritime Museum, which has two ice boats on display. You can also read and watch more by exploring the Ice Boats category on the history blog. 

To learn more about railroad cinema cars, check out "Inside the Cinema Train: Britain, Empire, and Modernity in the Twentieth Century" by Rebecca Harrison for Film History (2014), available on JSTOR. 

Last week we saw footage of the beautiful stern-steerer Vixen. This week we travel not to the Hudson River, but to Michigan for this fascinating footage of a 1930s Chevrolet racing one of those rocket-style iceboats than began replacing the wooden old stern-steerers. 

Ice boats were at one time the fastest vehicles on earth - able to race trains and win. Automobiles were just starting to push the limits of speed, and this film was part of an advertising campaign by Chevrolet to illustrate just how fast their new vehicles were. 

Front-steering iceboats like this one were popular in the Hudson Valley in the 1930s, '40s, and '50s as well. Streamlined and looking more like rocketships than boats, they pushed the limits of speed on ice. 

​Ray Ruge, who in 1964 helped revive the Hudson River Ice Yacht Club to save the old-style wooden stern-steerers, was in the 1940s and '50s racing more modern ice boats. In 1940 he won the Championship Race of the Eastern Ice Boat Pennant of America, held at Orange Lake, NY.

Although not as popular as the old wooden stern-steerers, you still see wooden or, more commonly, fiberglass "rocket" iceboats on the Hudson River. 

If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​