I believe that the crux of the light versus heavy dinghy question is one of temperament.

If one’s tastes incline to racing cycles, 650 cc O.H.V. twin motorbikes, and sports cars, than a lively, light boat is the choice. But if one prefers a “sit-up-and-beg” type of cycle, a side-valve banger and a sedate saloon, then a stable, heavy boat should be chosen. A friend of mine said that he likes fast boats, fast cars and slow women, but his wife was present! I think that all other points, and there are many, are secondary.

Take safety — certainly a heavy boat is safer, everything else being equal, but the major factor in safety is the helmsman’s decisions. Decisions such as, whether to go out in borderline conditions, whether to turn back or go on, and whether to replace that old piece of equipment. If one takes safety to a coldly logical conclusion one would sit at home in an armchair.

The suitability of a particular design can give endless argument. My criticisms of the Enterprise are (a) too bluff a bow (b) too small washboards (c) centre-board case too low (d) the orifice in the transom (e) lack of rigidity

But if the helmsman avoids conditions where these points are vital to one’s survival then the Enterprise can be used as a cruising boat.

I agree with Slade that it is a combination of wind and sea that are the limiting factors, but I think that his statement of the case was incomplete. After a capsize, a dinghy not only should be but MUST be capable of sailing on, even though the helmsman is wet, cold, bedraggled and miserable. I have been very deeply impressed by the loneliness of the water when conditions are borderline. Anyway, in principle, it is wrong to rely on other peoples’ help.

In answer to the second part of Slade’s letter, I can see no conflict between “luff up to breaking seas” and bearing away a little for particularly bad seas”. Do both. To illustrate, assume sea running down wind, sailing close-hauled under reasonable conditions of wind and sea. Now the wind rises and the sea gets worse (without breaking). Every time the bow digs in, some way will be lost. Depending on the sea and the boat, a point will be reached where the boat is stopped dead, Hence the saying “going up and down in the same hole”. This is highly dangerous — a boat with no way on will not steer, and therefore is not under control.

So, when the sea becomes such that the boat is not sensitive to the helm, ease the sheets a shade (1, 2 or 3 inches in my boat). The boat speeds up and once again becomes responsive. Sometime during this process one will reef. Now if a bigger sea comes along, particularly a short steep one, and strikes the boat partially on the beam a lot of water will be shipped over the side. But if one luffs just before the sea reaches one, the boat will try to rise and force its way through the sea, still shipping some water over the bow, but only a fraction of that which would have come over the side (washboards are significant here), Then one bears away to pick up speed again to be ready for the next sea.

So one’s course becomes a series of luffs and bearing aways. With practice one can sheet in and ease in sympathy with the helm. It can now be seen, I hope, that one must ease the sheets to gain the necessary momentum to carry the boat through the luffs without losing too much way.

To conclude this argument, when a sea becomes short and steep enough it will be a breaking sea. If one bears in mind that the helmsman has to cope with a fresh to strong, gusty wind at the same time, you will appreciate that one needs to be highly alert under those conditions. In addition, the motion is very wearing and the helmsman is very wet. To my mind this underlines why the limitations are those of the helmsman and not the boat. I have sailed for about four hours at a time under these conditions and I know I have been near my limit. Of course there is always a way out, and that would be to drop the mainsail, hoist the jib (which would have been off by then), and run or broad reach back to where you came from. Yours faithfully, A. F. Barge