Making Waves: the story of Jeckells Sails
The old adage that we learn by our mistakes certainly proved true (and profitable) in the case of a humble fisherman from Great Yarmouth in Norfolk. Almost two centuries ago he inadvertently revolutionised the ways sails were made.
Short of money and unable to buy a new suit of sails the poor fisherman was compelled to make his own: as good luck would have it this turned his fortunes around. All of a sudden, as much to his surprise as the rest of the fishing fleet, the fisherman regularly became the first rather than the last fishing smack (boat) back to shore each day. This was a much prized slot because the first, and therefore the freshest, catch landed commanded the highest prices.
Intrigued as to how this could be, his fellow fishermen took a close interest in his boat and rigging which is how his mistake was discovered. The sails he had so carefully made were incorrect: the panels of fabric had been sewn together running in the opposite direction to everyone else’s. Unbeknown to Chris Jeckells this difference used the warp and weft of the fabric to its best advantage: by having the stronger of the two running sideways rather than up and down, the fabric was prevented from stretching quite so badly. This meant less wind was ‘spilled’ and the boat was able to travel faster.
Although this fact wasn’t appreciated at the time this new design was soon copied by fishermen impressed by the improved performance. It wasn’t long afterwards that the fisherman in question took the view that sail making – even in a draughty shed – was a safer way of earning a living than fishing in the inclement waters of the North Sea.
So in 1832 Jeckells set himself up in a sail loft in Lowestoft. Although nothing quite so dramatic was to happen again in sail making in his lifetime he established a thriving business which today has his great, great, great, great, great grandson, Chris Jeckells at the helm. In the last 50 years or so sail making has been transformed once again.
Originally sails were made from flax, the toughest fabric around because they were designed for durability. They worked hard for a living on trade vessels and were expected to withstand hard labour and constant repairs. The colours of the sails were also defined by their trade: the sails on fishing vessels were rusty red in colour to hide the stains from fish guts; the sails on the Norfolk Broads coal wherrys were dyed black. All the sails were hand made from start to finish and each sail maker had his own way of stitching which was as good as a trademark. Chris Jeckells recalls hearing someone remark as recently as the late 1950s: ‘oh that’s Henry’s work, that’s the way he always stitched. He always put a twist on the 5th stitch.’
Others might have used a zig zag or gone back on themselves or used one more stitch than was usual in some part of the process. Whatever their style, the sewing was always immaculate. “There is a wonderful example of a sail at the Museum of the Broads dating from about 1888/9 where the stitching is more even and more evenly tensioned than that achieved by machine. It’s an absolute work of art,” Chris relates in a reverential tone.
As the fishing smacks started to decline in the 1900s and pleasure cruising on the Norfolk Broads became fashionable, sails began to be made out of cotton which was lighter and easier to handle. There was little innovation except slight tweaks, such as false seams sewn into the panels to further reduce the stretch, and sewing machines were used for the first time.
To capitalise on the Broads business Jeckells opened a workshop in Wroxham
and carried out repairs for the hire boats. Later, they also played an active role in World War II. With their reputation as people who could sew anything Jeckells were enlisted to make camouflage netting, gun covers and latrine screens for the services. It was after the war, as with many trades, that things really moved forwards when in the 1950s sailing became more of a popular recreation as opposed to way of life.
The most noticeable change, apart from an explosion of new dinghy designs and new fabrics, was the introduction of coloured sails away from the traditional tan. Again this seems to have been a happy accident. “A boat designer Jack Holt came up with a design for a dinghy called an Enterprise and he asked me to make sails for it,” recounts Chris Jeckells. “I had some sky blue fabric left over from the war going cheap and we made him some sails out of that.” The press went wild for it. Pale blue sails become the signature of the Enterprise dinghy.
Picking up on the zeitgeist the Daily Mirror newspaper sponsored a new design of dingy eponymously named the Mirror and insisted on red sails to match their company logo. Jeckells have made over 67,000 suits of Mirror Dinghy sails since then and these have become one of the most distinctive and instantly recognisable boats on the water as a result.
As racing became popular and technology improved so sail making continued on its quest to reduce the stretch and optimise performance. “In the 1960s sails started to be made from polyester, a more closely woven fabric with less give in it so it is less stretchy and was also easier to handle,” explains Chris. In the 1980s laminates such as melinex film, similar to a Mars Bar wrapper, were glued to a base fabric making the sails almost rigid and more fin like. Although effective for the main sails this approach was not suitable for downwind (spinnakers) and light air sails because they need to be stowed in small spaces on board: for these particular sails, nylon is used.
During this time, Jeckells continued to be innovators. “My father became the first UK sail maker to successfully fit a window into a sail which was a great help as he was a keen racer and it stopped him from hitting people. He also designed the first Lazybones Crusing Chute,” says Chris with a hint of pride. “We were also one of the first sail lofts in the country to have a computer controlled laser cutter. We went to see the tests for the first laser used in manufacturing, which cut regular sized holes in the teats for baby’s bottles. Our initial thoughts were for using the laser not to just cut sails but to stitch sails instead of using thread - but the resultant molten sailcloth was too brittle. Our laser cutter was a great advance. It cut to 0.01 of a mm and heat sealed each cut to prevent fraying. It also reduced the amount of space required to make a sail.”
These days the sails are all cut out by lasers, largely sewn by machine and come in rainbow colours. Not everything has changed, though: the sail makers still work in a sail loft and still carry out techniques with arcane names like benching, which derives from the days the workers literally sat on a bench to carry out a particular task. These days, if you are not trying to win a race it has become fashionable to recreate the original tan sails and wooden fishing smacks from the early days. But whatever Jeckells is making it still endeavours to produce a perfect sail every time.
Text by Clare Lewis
Making Waves: the story of Jeckells Sails was first published in was originally published in Selvedge issue 47: Sporting.
Short of money and unable to buy a new suit of sails the poor fisherman was compelled to make his own: as good luck would have it this turned his fortunes around. All of a sudden, as much to his surprise as the rest of the fishing fleet, the fisherman regularly became the first rather than the last fishing smack (boat) back to shore each day. This was a much prized slot because the first, and therefore the freshest, catch landed commanded the highest prices.
Intrigued as to how this could be, his fellow fishermen took a close interest in his boat and rigging which is how his mistake was discovered. The sails he had so carefully made were incorrect: the panels of fabric had been sewn together running in the opposite direction to everyone else’s. Unbeknown to Chris Jeckells this difference used the warp and weft of the fabric to its best advantage: by having the stronger of the two running sideways rather than up and down, the fabric was prevented from stretching quite so badly. This meant less wind was ‘spilled’ and the boat was able to travel faster.
Although this fact wasn’t appreciated at the time this new design was soon copied by fishermen impressed by the improved performance. It wasn’t long afterwards that the fisherman in question took the view that sail making – even in a draughty shed – was a safer way of earning a living than fishing in the inclement waters of the North Sea.
So in 1832 Jeckells set himself up in a sail loft in Lowestoft. Although nothing quite so dramatic was to happen again in sail making in his lifetime he established a thriving business which today has his great, great, great, great, great grandson, Chris Jeckells at the helm. In the last 50 years or so sail making has been transformed once again.
Originally sails were made from flax, the toughest fabric around because they were designed for durability. They worked hard for a living on trade vessels and were expected to withstand hard labour and constant repairs. The colours of the sails were also defined by their trade: the sails on fishing vessels were rusty red in colour to hide the stains from fish guts; the sails on the Norfolk Broads coal wherrys were dyed black. All the sails were hand made from start to finish and each sail maker had his own way of stitching which was as good as a trademark. Chris Jeckells recalls hearing someone remark as recently as the late 1950s: ‘oh that’s Henry’s work, that’s the way he always stitched. He always put a twist on the 5th stitch.’
Others might have used a zig zag or gone back on themselves or used one more stitch than was usual in some part of the process. Whatever their style, the sewing was always immaculate. “There is a wonderful example of a sail at the Museum of the Broads dating from about 1888/9 where the stitching is more even and more evenly tensioned than that achieved by machine. It’s an absolute work of art,” Chris relates in a reverential tone.
As the fishing smacks started to decline in the 1900s and pleasure cruising on the Norfolk Broads became fashionable, sails began to be made out of cotton which was lighter and easier to handle. There was little innovation except slight tweaks, such as false seams sewn into the panels to further reduce the stretch, and sewing machines were used for the first time.
To capitalise on the Broads business Jeckells opened a workshop in Wroxham
and carried out repairs for the hire boats. Later, they also played an active role in World War II. With their reputation as people who could sew anything Jeckells were enlisted to make camouflage netting, gun covers and latrine screens for the services. It was after the war, as with many trades, that things really moved forwards when in the 1950s sailing became more of a popular recreation as opposed to way of life.
The most noticeable change, apart from an explosion of new dinghy designs and new fabrics, was the introduction of coloured sails away from the traditional tan. Again this seems to have been a happy accident. “A boat designer Jack Holt came up with a design for a dinghy called an Enterprise and he asked me to make sails for it,” recounts Chris Jeckells. “I had some sky blue fabric left over from the war going cheap and we made him some sails out of that.” The press went wild for it. Pale blue sails become the signature of the Enterprise dinghy.
Picking up on the zeitgeist the Daily Mirror newspaper sponsored a new design of dingy eponymously named the Mirror and insisted on red sails to match their company logo. Jeckells have made over 67,000 suits of Mirror Dinghy sails since then and these have become one of the most distinctive and instantly recognisable boats on the water as a result.
As racing became popular and technology improved so sail making continued on its quest to reduce the stretch and optimise performance. “In the 1960s sails started to be made from polyester, a more closely woven fabric with less give in it so it is less stretchy and was also easier to handle,” explains Chris. In the 1980s laminates such as melinex film, similar to a Mars Bar wrapper, were glued to a base fabric making the sails almost rigid and more fin like. Although effective for the main sails this approach was not suitable for downwind (spinnakers) and light air sails because they need to be stowed in small spaces on board: for these particular sails, nylon is used.
During this time, Jeckells continued to be innovators. “My father became the first UK sail maker to successfully fit a window into a sail which was a great help as he was a keen racer and it stopped him from hitting people. He also designed the first Lazybones Crusing Chute,” says Chris with a hint of pride. “We were also one of the first sail lofts in the country to have a computer controlled laser cutter. We went to see the tests for the first laser used in manufacturing, which cut regular sized holes in the teats for baby’s bottles. Our initial thoughts were for using the laser not to just cut sails but to stitch sails instead of using thread - but the resultant molten sailcloth was too brittle. Our laser cutter was a great advance. It cut to 0.01 of a mm and heat sealed each cut to prevent fraying. It also reduced the amount of space required to make a sail.”
These days the sails are all cut out by lasers, largely sewn by machine and come in rainbow colours. Not everything has changed, though: the sail makers still work in a sail loft and still carry out techniques with arcane names like benching, which derives from the days the workers literally sat on a bench to carry out a particular task. These days, if you are not trying to win a race it has become fashionable to recreate the original tan sails and wooden fishing smacks from the early days. But whatever Jeckells is making it still endeavours to produce a perfect sail every time.
Text by Clare Lewis
Making Waves: the story of Jeckells Sails was first published in was originally published in Selvedge issue 47: Sporting.