In sailing along, therefore, the log just skims the tops of the waves, but scarcely ever buries itself in them, so that little or no interruption to the velocity of the canoe is caused by the out-rigger.

When the breeze freshens so much as to lift the weight higher than the natives like, one, and sometimes two of them, walk out on the horizontal spars, so as to add their weight to that of the out-rigger.

In order to enable them to accomplish this purpose in safety, a "man rope," about breast high, extends over each of the spars from the mast to the backstays.
But of all the ingenious native contrivances for turning small means to good account, one of the most curious, and, under certain circumstances, perhaps the most useful, is the balsa, or raft of South America, or, as it is called on some part of the coast, the catamaran.
The simplest form of the raft, or balsa, is that of five, seven, or nine large beams of very light wood, from fifty to sixty feet long, arranged side by side, with the longest spar placed in the centre.
These logs are firmly held together by cross-bars, lashings, and stout planking near the ends.

They vary from fifteen to twenty, and even thirty feet in width.

I have seen some at Guayaquil of an immense size, formed of logs as large as a frigate's foremast.