by Jonathan Lewis
I’m always perplexed by “the shift to power” by some older sailors. It seems almost like a rite of passage to bid farewell to sailcloth and buy a trawler as our joints get creaky and our muscles weaken, but I don’t understand either the necessity or the desire. I bought my first rowboat for 20 bucks before the age of 10. My slightly older cousin suggested I purchase a small outboard so I could “really enjoy” my 8-feet pram. I responded that I was already enjoying it and the noisy and smelly combustion engine wouldn’t provide the pleasure, sense of accomplishment and serenity I desired afloat. At 13 I got my first sailboat and the wonders of wind propulsion immediately became an obsession. The utter enjoyment of that activity has never left me. I did spend some portion of my life living on a trawler in the Virgin Islands and conducting dive charters, but that wasn’t an equitable replacement for sailing.
Having just spent two months on board our small sailboat in the Pacific Northwest this past summer, I can understand full well the frustrations of light and disappearing breezes and challenges of strong currents, but that didn’t deter us from at least attempting to sail to dozens of destinations. We observed most folks on sailboats either motoring or “motorsailing” from anchorage to anchorage. They certainly covered more ground than we did and may have had schedules to keep, but I’m afraid they missed the joys of sailing. If your experience is motorsailing, then the shift to power should be an easy one, but if you’re a sailor, then the lack of equity between the experiences might be troubling and unfulfilling.
If your experience is motorsailing, then the shift to power should be an easy one, but if you’re a sailor, then the lack of equity between the experiences might be troubling and unfulfilling.
I’ve known numerous people sailing into their eighties. The trick may be smaller, less powerful boats that can be easily handled in tight quarters or when the wind and waves pick up, but the answer certainly can’t be to disavow the purity and serenity that comes from the joy of sail power.
I was offered a tow by a “sailor” in Maine once when we were barely ghosting out of an anchorage. I declined. After my refusal he replied that he must be more “destination oriented.” I agreed. I’m a proponent of different strokes for different folks, but when it comes to switching from sail to power, I suggest taking a long hard look at what you’ll be missing before taking that leap. •SCA•
While I’m considering a trailerable, quiet, slow and fuel-efficient outboard cabin cruiser—maybe electric—I hope to always have a sailboat, too. Age and agility concerns make a pilothouse attractive, but as long as I can keep daysailing and camp cruising with my small sailboat—simply loving being on the water— I’ll be an enthusiastic sailor. But I feel no guilt in also enjoying my small, salty and comfy little motorboat…and wish we could all get past “us vs. them” attitudes when it comes to sail vs. power. There are great boats in both camps, especially in our world of small watercraft.
I feel my prose has been misinterpreted. There was no intent to set up a polarizing debate. Rather, to point out the obvious benefits of the art of sailing. I have never witnessed a person at the helm of a sailboat that doesn’t relish the moment of shutting down the engine and immediately entering a state of bliss as the sails take control. That zen like experience doesn’t happen with RPMs. Cheers to everyone afloat.