I have always disliked capsizing. A wet, messy and usually cold business in the water, back in the dinghy and finally cleaning the boat out on shore. I remember the feelings of anxiety before a race when it was squally and the relief when someone else capsized before the start gun. I remember the only time I led the Firefly fleet in one open meeting and capsized downwind planing on the run. I remember being hurled out of a planing Laser running out of control and the feeling of peace floating alongside Mah Jong before I righted her.

As vivid are the many memories of the escapes with water pouring over the side, sails flapping, spinnakers entangled and the dinghy rocking and jerking from side to side. At least there was already a rescue boat somewhere around and fellow competitors could be summoned if the situation became too fraught.

Not so in a cruising dinghy. Grey Strike was my first Wanderer class dinghy. She handled beautifully and I enjoyed sailing her on Coniston Water with a crew or single-handed but could I cope with a capsize? One hot summer's day with little wind, before breakfast I launched her and about 100 yards offshore managed to capsize her. She lay on her side with the mast and mainsail just under the water. Try as I might, I could not right her and rescue came when a Mirror dinghy paddled out and raised the mast out of the water. Most unsatisfactory I spent the rest of the days on the hills. A letter from Margaret Dye confirmed that I was not the only one to be worried. Later the class adapted an inflatable bag that could be inserted towards the top of the mainsail to prevent the dinghy turning... but my doubts remained.

Over the next few years the mountains and sailing in chartered yachts off the west coast of Scotland led me astray from dinghy sailing. Grey Strike was used so little that I reluctantly sold her to my brother-in-law and the loss was such that 5 months later I had a new Wanderer MD with less buoyancy so that Jacona floats lower in the water when capsized and should be easier to right.

Next year Mary and I visited Lake Bala and watched a single handed Wanderer beating to wind with a full sail in a Force 4 and spilling, flagging the jib, and keeling too far and too often. Not seamanlike I felt and returned home to ring John Jones of Anglo-Marine and ask if Ian Proctor’s design for a steel plate was still around. John replied that it just happened to be on his desk. Six weeks later Jacona had the first steel plate fitted to a Wanderer.

John and his team did some capsize tests and were very satisfied. I found that she handled as easily as before and there seemed no significant problem retrieving her on a trolley with a jockey wheel at the front.

Mary has yet to experience a capsize and I have a feeling that it would not appeal to her so one windy day I went to the sailing club on my own. I used an old Firefly mainsail and a Lark jib and sailed off at speed in a Force 5. A school's rescue boat was told that I might need some help and then I tried to capsize her. Jacona did not like the idea and it was only by sitting to leeward and pulling the main in tight on a broad reach that she surrendered, dipped the leeward gunwale and filled. Out on the steel plate I stood up, pulled on the shroud and 10 seconds later Jacona was up with no trouble. I then learnt that a large bucket is far more effective than a pump to empty her quickly, but so what, I felt safe and happy and so went to Denmark and sailed in the Limfford for our summer cruise. The winds blew, Mary was wet and cold - I could not convince her to buy good waterproofs - and the waves were turbulent. I was over anxious running before an increasing wind but had no need. Jacona was steady, responsive and showed no signs of wanting to capsize even when the waves rose. Would she have been as stable with her wooden plate 75lbs lighter? I don’t know. Am I over cautious, sensible or just getting too old? I don't know.

What I do know is that when Mary and I sailed with friends in their 34 yacht off the south west coast of Ireland later in the year, it all seemed very easy.