I have always held the purist view about engines: nasty, dirty, noisy things, which lead boats into trouble and then let them down. Well, at least, I have always said, people should learn to sail without one first. I would quote the complimentary remarks of a coastguard who saw us tacking through the entrance to the Menai Straits. We were surprised that he should admire our performance, for we didn’t think much of it ourselves — but then we looked around us at all the motor sailing that was going on, and supposed that he must rarely see anyone tack through under sail alone.

Then, more recently, I found myself owing a weekend’s sailing to a timely tow out of a landlocked anchorage, which the tide only reaches at most inconvenient times, usually when the full force of the Menai Straits tide is rushing in the wrong direction past the entrance. Afterwards my friend said, “You can’t be rude about engines now; where would you have been this weekend without ours?” So now we have bought an outboard. The deciding factor was that without it we would have felt it to be risky to take our very young children far from the moorings, in case they suddenly wanted to go home when wind and tide were wrong. Feeling that they are more likely to enjoy sailing if they are broken in gently, and allowed to stop when they have had enough, we had either to sail on inland waters, or to use an engine when we needed to move against the tide. We have a sweep, but against the run of the tide on the northwest coast it is useless, in our 18 footer.

I am full of good resolutions: Never to use the engine to perform manoeuvres which we ought jolly well to be able to do under sail. Never to motor into a situation which would be dangerous if the engine went wrong and left us to get back under sail. Never to use the engine to cover mighty distances in the course of a cruise. It would be quicker still to buy a ticket for a pleasure steamer.

I make an analogy with trailing. When I had a light dinghy, I could trail it to an interesting cruising ground a hundred miles or so away, and there the cruise started. In the 18 footer, without an engine we were never sure of reaching our chosen cruising area at all — it lies up-wind of our home port. I hope that with the use of the engine we shall be reasonably sure of getting there, and we can regard the cruise proper as starting there. The engine is really a way of getting sailing when one has not the time to give that it deserves! On days when the tide barely reaches our moorings we can creep out under power against wind and tide, and have our sail in the more open waters nearer the mouth of the estuary. When we are limited to certain days, which may not be the best from a tidal point of view, the engine can still enable us to sail. If I am becalmed on the ebb, I now have an alternative to anchoring and waiting for the tide to turn. The engine (if it works!) will get me back before those at home begin to worry. Still, I hope this does not make them start worrying sooner than they did when they knew I must be waiting for the tide!

If I find a rough, wet tacking course between me and the moorings, I hope I shall still go on sailing — unless the children are aboard and are showing signs that they have had enough. Then the engine may legitimately be used to hurry us back, I think.

I do not wish to emulate the “sail” round Anglesey of which I once read, triumphantly completed in 24 hours by the use of a powerful auxiliary to catch up with the tide at the right moments. It sounded very efficient and very dull. I should like to sail round some time but I shall wait for weather in which I do not need to rely on the engine even as a safety factor. After all, I cannot imagine myself ever buying a motor boat for pleasure, although I am sure they are a useful means of propulsion, in the same workaday way that cars are on land. Engines are very useful for getting sailing boats into waters where they can sail, in the restricted time available to their crews, but they must be kept firmly in their place.