I was invited by Eric Cornish to sail his Yngling in the North Americans at Alpena. I am sure that he felt that my experience in racing a Soling for the past 30 years would be quickly applicable to sailing an Yngling, but—because they are so different—it took me longer than either of us expected. Only in the last few races were we as fast or faster than the competition. However, I enjoyed racing an Yngling so much that I went out and bought one. I intend to keep it in the water at my dock as a day sailor, but I am hopeful that I will be able to learn more about what makes it go and that I will be able to apply that understanding to future opportunities to race in the class.
It is said that Jan Linge designed the Yngling to look like a small Soling, to be a trainer for Soling sailors, and to be suitable to younger, lighter, less-experienced crews. He succeeded—the Yngling not only looks like a Soling, but it has trained many of the world's best Soling sailors—including Infanta Cristina winner Neville Wittey, and European Champion Terje Wang—and it can be raced effectively by younger, lighter, less-experienced crews. But about there the similarity ends.
Smaller editions—the Luders 16 is an example—never behave like their big sisters. The Yngling feels and acts like a dinghy. It is tossed about by wind and wave like a centerboarder. It does not track like a keelboat; steering requires constant attention. Steering a Soling is not easy, but the helmsman can look around occasionally. The Yngling demands an experienced crew who can look around and tell the helmsman what is going on . The Yngling, like a dinghy, is extremely sensitive to lateral crew weight distribution; with every variation in wind strength (even up to 18 knots) some member of the crew has to move—in or out, onto or off the deck, to leeward or to windward in the cockpit. In a Soling in light air the little variations can usually be managed by shifts in the helmsman s position alone and above 12 knots, with the crew fully hiked, no movement is useful.
The biggest difference is in the yawing moment. In the early days of Soling development everything possible was done to correct the leeward yawing moment: the mast was moved as far aft as permitted and the rudder as far forward, mainsails were made fuller, jibs flatter, and larger and larger crews were employed. The Yngling has an excessive windward yawing moment. Unless the crew stays over the windward rail (even when the main is let go by the run), it can be very difficult in a breeze to get the boat to bear off around the weather mark. When reaching in strong winds the boat wants to round up whenever it buries its bow. And the jib must be kept extremely full and tight leeched and the main flat and open to obtain speed to windward.
Having learned in a Soling that one must keep the jib's upper leech open (at least 15 degrees off the centerline) and never, never, never stall the upper leech telltale, I was amazed (after the first three races at Alpena) by Bruce Chafee's admonition to bring the upper jib batten parallel to the centerline. Now I soon learned that it cannot be brought parallel to the centerline—but not until it was almost there did I get the boat to go! I did find that the upper jib leech position—and the jib lead position/jib sheet tension that controls it—is the most important consideration on the boat (as it is in the Soling)—and that the jib leech must be constantly adjusted for every variation in wind and wave. But I also discovered that the range of positioning averages at least 10 degrees tighter on the Yngling—probably reflecting the development of a relatively more powerful jib as a solution to the greater windward yawing moment.
The other major difference in the two boats is the jibstay control. Jibstay tension—because it so dramatically alters jib shape—fullness, distribution of draft, angle of incidence of the leading edge—is a critical control on all boats. On the Soling it is controlled directly by tensioning the jibstay and/or the backstay and by modifying the mast stiffness through movement of the upper shroud cars (operating to bring the athwartships spreaders forward or aft). On the Yngling in under 6 knots of wind speed it is controlled entirely by the upper shroud tension—which in very light air can usefully be diminished to increase jibstay sag; between 6 and 10 knots by a combination of upper shroud tension and jib halyard tension; and above ten knots (when the jibstay itself goes slack) by a combination of upper shroud tension, jib halyard tension, and backstay tension. In strong winds the backstay tension becomes most important. I hope that with more experience in the Yngling I can learn more about this critical set of controls. (I do know that at Alpena measuring jibstay/jib halyard tension with a Loos strain gauge was very helpful in assessing the effects of these adjustments.)
