23 Reasons Why Putting an Engine in a Sailboat is the Worst Sailing Innovation Ever

Why do people want an engine on a sailboat? I mean, isn't the whole point about owning asailboat that you use it for sailing? For actually making the boat go from point A to point B using the natural power of the wind? Isn't that why it's called "sail-ing", not "engine-ing"?

So my nomination for Worst Sailing Innovation Ever is the engine. Or more specifically the crazy idea of putting an engine in a sailing boat. I don't care if it's an inboard engine or an outboard motor. It's just plain wrong.Here are 23 reasons why putting an engine in a sailing boat is the worst sailing innovation ever....

1. You don't need an engine. Lin and Larry Pardey have sailed all over the world, in and out of all sorts of exotic stopovers, for gazillions of miles, on two boats they built themselves... both boats without engines.

1. An engine costs money to buy and install in the boat.

1. It costs money for spare parts.

1. It costs money for repairs.

1. It costs money for fuel.

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1. An engine takes up space you could use for other things.

1. An engine adds weight to the boat.

1. The propeller increases drag.

1. Maintaining an engine takes time away from sailing.

1. Repairing an engine takes time away from sailing.

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1. An engine breaks down.

1. An engine is noisy.

1. It is dirty.

1. It vibrates.

1. It is smelly.

1. It pollutes the air.

1. If you spill the fuel it pollutes the water.

1. If you have an engine you need several extra holes in your hull for the cooling pipes, exhaust, prop shaft etc.

1. An engine does not provide extra safety. Murphy's Law says that it will fail just when you most need it. If you don't have an engine you will be more prudent about getting yourself into bad situations and you will develop the skills to get yourself out of difficulty using natural methods.

1. Without an engine you will feel closer to nature.

1. Without an engine you will have to learn to sail well.

1. Without an engine you will have the joy of entering the same anchorages in the same way that Columbus, Drake, Cook, Nelson - and the Pardeys - did... under sail alone.

1. You don't need an engine. Adam Turinas sailed most of last season without one after his outboard failed. He says he is "better for it".

You might also like:

• Worst Sailing Innovation Ever
• Have Some More Wurst
• Even More Worser
• Four Five of the Worst
• Rule 42 – Worst Sailing Innovation Ever

http://propercourse.blogspot.com.au/2010/02/23-reasons-why-putting-engine-in.html

HMB Endeavour stripped bare

On 3 June HMB Endeavour headed to dry-dock for scheduled maintenance, and now as we have reached the halfway point in her docking, all is proceeding well. For the last week or so, a team of contractors have been removing the antifouling paint from the ship’s bottom and after nearly 20 years, we are back to bare timber.

HMB Endeavour replica (front) and James Craig (background) in the Captain Cook Graving Dock at Garden Island, Sydney.

A bi-product of the stripping has been dust and grit and the poor old ship looks a little under the weather. Over the next four or five days the topsides will be sanded and oiled and the underwater areas will be primed and repainted.

Endeavour stripped bare.

While in the appropriately named Captain Cook Dock, the opportunity has also been taken to repair some of the timber normally below the water line. In the main these repairs have been minor but a necessary part of remaining sea worthy.

HMB Endeavour replica (front) and James Craig (background) in the Captain Cook Graving Dock at Garden Island, Sydney. Photo: Navy Imagery Unit

An unusual feature of the docking this year was the fact that Endeavour docked down withJames Craig. To the best of anyone’s knowledge, there have never been two sailing ships simultaneously in the Captain Cook Dock.

The ship is on track to undock on 19 June and after a few trials underway, we should be back in the museum early that afternoon.

John Dikkenberg
Captain, HMB Endeavour replica

http://anmm.wordpress.com/2013/06/12/hmb-endeavour-stripped-bare/#more-10601

A CRUISE FEEDS THE SOUL

A CRUISE FEEDS THE SOUL

By Kevin Walters

The docklines are once again tied and my feet plod once more on solid ground.  My body is back in port, but I don’t know if my sailor’s soul will ever make it back to the dock. 

Perfectly peaceful anchorage in Baie Fine, Ontario

Before we left, I did my research.  I read all I could and talked to everyone who would share their experiences about the pros and cons of taking an extended cruise on a small sailboat. Now that we’ve returned, I realize most weren’t honest about the most difficult part of cruising: coming home.  As my family (wife and two young daughters, then ages 5 and 8) and I returned to our home port and stepped ashore, I realized that – after more than 1,000 nautical miles and nearly 70 days spent living and cruising aboard our 28-foot sailboat – I am closer to drowning on shore than I ever was while at sea.  On land it’s not water, but rather the pace and particulars of being a landlubber, that’s stealing the breath of life.

Last summer (2010) I lived a cruising fantasy.  I snatched a dream from my sleep and made it reality.  I now have something to write about, something to recall fondly, and something to build upon.  How can I be drowning?

Cruising gave me a clear goal; I knew where I was headed and how to get there.  I have goals when I’m on land, but I don’t always know how to achieve them.  I also have skills on land, but they pale in comparison to my ability to move watercraft from one place to the next.  I’m not a great breadwinner, perhaps, but I’m the best cruiser, navigator, sailor, and captain I can be.

Bridal Veil Falls near Kagawong, Ontario

As we plied the waters of the Great Lakes and headed to the isolation of the islands in Lake Huron's North Channel, I was alive with freedom. “Sail far and live free!” became our slogan.  I was on fire with ambition.  I was full of the life a cruising sailor longs for in the deep of winter.  It’s not easy to describe how 28 feet of fiberglass suddenly contained all I ever hoped for; my family, my charts, my gear, and my passions were all on board.

Little and Big Point Sable flashed by.  Lonely freighters broke up the horizon. Our voices echoed in the crescent-shaped bay of South Manitou Island.  The passage to Beaver Island was cold and wet.  Grey's Reef amazed us with turquoise water, massive boulders, and abandoned mid-lake lighthouses.  TheMackinac Bridge soared overhead, and the island gave us sights to see as we biked around her shoreline.  We found peace at sunset in Les Chenneaux Islands.  Monarch caterpillars became our pets on Harbor Island.  A storm blew through in Pilot Cove.  We provisioned in Gore Bay.

Family campfire in Pilot Cove, Drummond Island

The anchor held tight during a stormy night onSouth Benjamin Island.  We tied stern-to-shore onHeywood Island. Fish and chips filled our tummies from the old bus inKillarney.  We climbed high in Covered Portage Cove.  We watched a bald eagle soar inBaie Fine.  We welcomed July in Little Current.  Sturgeon Cove’s entrance challenged our piloting skills.  We shared a campfire and new-found friendship on LouisaIsland…blueberries galore on Croker Island…more friends, campfires, and cozy anchorages in the Benjamin Islands.  Freshly caught walleye fillet encrusted with Frosted Flakes cereal was on our dinner menu in Beardrop Harbor.  We enjoyed the same beautiful views as did the megayachts in Harbor Springs. Six-foot waves helped us surf home from Pentwater, Michigan.  I pinched myself each morning when I woke, making sure I wasn’t stuck in a January dream.

After years of daydreaming about an extended cruise, I fooled myself into believing I’d feel fulfilled when I returned to the dock.  I thought the itch would have been scratched and the hunger inside would have been fed.  I was wrong.  I am now full of memories but somehow empty.  It took months of planning and preparation for a small old boat to carry a family of four over a thousand miles of Great Lakes water in the period of about three months.  My life on land was focused during months of pre-cruise preparation.  My life at sea for three months was intense and full of passion, challenges, beauty, and closeness to my family.  I won’t forget the quiet reflection during my solo-sailing days at the beginning of the journey, or the sight of my daughters sleeping snugly in their berths below as my wife and I battled through waves and rain in the early hours of morning, or our first night anchored at a deserted island.

I was completely fulfilled while cruising in the wilderness of the North Channelwith few amenities, yet I find life can be lacking back here on land.  The great irony is that on land I’m surrounded by high-definition televisions, cell phones, high-speed Internet, cars, DVD players inside of cars, restaurants, shopping malls, and every other “luxury” of the 21^st century ashore in America.  If I learned anything from cruising, it’s that material things cannot fill the soul but memories and experiences can make it overflow.

My wife wonders how I can be in such a funk after having lived another of my dreams.  I wonder how I let prudence guide me back to our home port when reckless abandon and my sense of adventure could easily have had the bow headed for the Erie Canal and ultimately the Intracoastal Waterway.  From there, the whole world is just over the horizon.  As I sit at home writing, planning next year’s sailing adventure is what will make the weather a bit warmer and the winter sky brighter until that spring day when our bow once again points away from our life here on land.

http://www.sailfarlivefree.com/2012/01/awakening-from-cruisers-dream.html