Browsing through an old (1985) copy of Small Boat Journal, an American magazine now sadly defunct, I read again the description of a single-handed cruise on the Labrador coast. The author and a companion had cruised there in an aluminium motor boat previously, but wanted to cruise further north where fuel was not available. The main draw appeared to be the mountaineering possibilities of the region. He decided to build a Wayfarer which would be easy to ship on a small steamer, of shallow draft and easy to beach as the terrain consisted of deep fjords and shallow rocky bays with undersea ledges; sketchily charted. There was also likely to be icebergs, and possibly polar bears. The non-standard features of the dinghy included three rows of reef points with a jiffy reefing system, and sheathing of the hull in polypropylene cloth. In fact he lost both crews he had found through illness, before the cruise had properly begun so decided to go by himself The following are his views on sailing alone. It’s no surprise to learn that Bill Tilman is a hero of his. He successfully completed his three week cruise. Peter Bick

As light dinghies go, Wayfarers are very stable and seaworthy. The fact that they are standard equipment for many sailing schools and are a popular class boat in Great Britain is testament to their good qualities. But no dinghy of these proportions can be considered forgiving. The Wayfarer demands good sailing to achieve true seaworthiness, and improperly handled in a sudden gust or squall, it will capsize with appalling speed.

Smart dinghy cruising means being adaptable to every change in sea and wind. I set certain limits to the conditions I will sail in, and when I’ve decided to sail, I will reef when the wind comes up, and put up sail when it goes down. Sailing alone, I keep the mainsheet in hand and an eye on the weather.

The dinghy can be recovered from a capsizing if there is sea room and if conditions will allow 20 to 30 minutes to dry out the boat. But when the sea rages on and buries every attempt at salvage under a stifling blanket of foam, the game may be over, particularly if you capsize when single-handing.

Speed and caution are the dinghy sailor’s saving graces. One’s boat must be kept shipshape for quick response. Everything is lashed on or under the seats and in the buoyancy lockers. Three things are always tied to the boat: a bailing bucket, a jug of fresh water, and me. Everything I anticipate needing for the day is in a watertight plastic box within arm’s reach of the helm. This kit includes food, sunglasses, camera, Chapstik, and other knick-knacks. With a day’s sail in Labrador lasting as much as 24 hours, and the Wayfarer unable to sail herself, anything that I might need that was out of reach was a liability.

To leave the helm means heaving-to. This is a safe and reliable technique, but ground is lost and time is spent, and if there is a lee shore nearby, it is risky.

Organisation and consistency prevent tripping overboard, losing things, or snarling halyards in a sail change. All the rigging for reefing is kept within arm’s reach at the base of the mast so that I am able to make a jiffy reef in seconds. The jib is rigged with a downhaul and can be brought down in one swift movement. Such quick, reliable reefing arrangements add a solid measure of safety in a small unballasted boat.

The centreboard is trimmed regularly, and I never use a hold-down pin in it. The rudder has a hold-down pin, which is necessary when running, but the pin has a wire lanyard that allows removal in an instant.

I use slippery cleat hitches on halyards to prevent jamming. Cam cleats are provided for all sheet ropes and for the jiffy reef clew lines. I use a Proctor lever boom vang and frequently rig a preventer to hold the boom steady in a rolling situation. This preventer is set up on a slip knot through a U-bolt on the foredeck. In case of a jibe or change of wind speed, I can release this preventer by pulling on the running end, which I hold in my hand.

Heavy ground tackle includes a 25 pound fisherman’s anchor and chain lead. This is not only reassuring when on the hook for the night, but is also useful when set up in tandem with the small Danforth for hauling the boat clear of the water in lieu of an appropriately placed boulder.

With any sort of break on the time of day, I landed at or near high tide and camped ashore. This saved time with haul-up but committed me to launching on a high tide. Hauling up was made simple with the aid of a boat roller and a nine-to-one block and tackle.

Occasionally, single-handed dinghy cruising requires taking a calculated risk, but in general, conservative sailing is required to pull off a long cruise. Keeping the boat and gear in good repair, anticipating conditions and then adapting the rig to suit, seemed the safest policy. But there is no escaping the fact that a single-hander in remote regions must be willing to accept the consequences of going it alone. This is a condition that one must accept early in planning, and if the commitment seems more than one can face with a certain amount of confidence, then it’s time to reconsider the whole idea of going off alone.