When it comes down to just "simply messing about in boats" we have the option of motoring or sailing, or for those who like a bit of both, motor-sailing. Except for sailing dingys, it seems that most "sailing" vessels not only have a motor but have a engine powerful enough to go as fast as under sail in a brisk wind.

Unfortunately, ever since motors were installed in sailing craft, there has been a steady decrease in quality over the last forty years of so. Now, I'm not referring to the engine, mind you. As you are probably aware, marine engines are lighter, more powerful, more reliable, and in this day of high costs, more fuel efficient. It is the relationship between an owner and his motor which has suffered. Who ever hears about people having relationships with their boat motor today? Sadly, such relationships have become a thing of the past. Gone are the feelings of tenderness, the words of encouragement and the deep affection which can only develop from many hours of close contact with one's engine.

Why has this coldness and this terrible lack of respect developed? I'll tell you why. The trend has been to isolate the owner from the engine by such things as starter motors, instrument panels and sound insulation. Today the only way we know that the motor is alive and kicking is by the gauges and the movement of the boat. The poor motor sits in limbo over the bilge water with no comfort other than an occasional oil change. I was very fortunate to acquire an engine which had not succumbed to the ravages of today's standards. On cold frosty morning, I renew my relationship with "the beast" in a very positive manner. I should explain with a description of one particular cold and frosty morning.

It was around the middle of November and the sky through the night was clear and crisp. Temperatures were a record low and by morning, a deep frost covered everything with a sparkling white mantle. We were anchored in Tod Inlet and the voyage of the day was to get to Sidney. After breakfast, I began with the involved ritual designed to awaken the beast and start it breathing fire.

I drained the water out of the block, warmed it on the two burner kerosene stove and then poured it back into the heat exchanger. Next I started to work on the glow plug. Diesels like to have their innards warmed before they will rise and shine and the beast was no exception. The glow plug system is rather fascinating since it requires no electricity, is composed of simple, disposable materials of low cost. One square of bathroom tissue.

First I rolled the square of tissue into a tight wad measuring two centimetres long and then wedged it into a drilled hole in the end of a special bolt built for the purpose. After soaking the wad of bathroom tissue in diesel, I set it alight. While the cabin filled with black smoke I squirted methyl hydrate into the air intake and slid the crank handle into place. With my jacket off and my sleeves rolled up, we were ready for the bonding of man and machine.

The burning wad had become a glowing red plug so I quickly screwed it into the engine head. Onto the crank handle I leaped and after winding it up to speed, I let go of the decompression lever. "Chug! Chug! Pop!" then nothing. I made up another glow plug and tried again. "Chug! Chug! Chug! Pop!". At least I got one more chug this time. Again I tried and this time not even a chug. I squirted methyl hydrate right into the cylinder, cranked out the excess, and made another glow plug. This time the beast roared. Backwards. Nursing a wrist throbbing from the vicious kick, I made yet another glow plug. Now the words of encouragement started.

"All right, All right. I'm sorry! I'll wake you more gently, but please, please give me another chug."

Another glow plug, another squirt of alcohol down its throat and another swing on the crank. "Chuggity, Chug! Chug, Chug! Pop!".

"Come on, I know its cold, and I promise to change your oil soon, really I will, and top grade oil at that, but please chug a little more."

"Chuggity, Chug, Pop! Bang! Bang! Bang! Pop! Chug! Sssss."

"And I'll even clean your filters next month, really I will."

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Bang! Bang! Bang! Pop! Chug!."By now the roll of bathroom tissue was getting smaller, the blisters on my hand getting larger and I was getting hotter. Under the collar.

"Start! Damn you. Start!"

"Bang! Sssssss."

The sun was getting higher in the sky but the frost on the shaded deck remained.

"Pretty Please?"

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chuggity chuggity chug! Bang! Bang! Bang! Chug! Chug! Chuggity chug! Sssssss."

An hour and a half after I first started my conversation with the beast, it replied in earnest. With a roar that shook the boat from stem to stern and sent the cormorants flying, the beast talked and talked. A seal poked his head above the water and stared at us wide eyed.

"Thank you, you beautiful engine. Thank you!" I shouted as I pulled up the anchor and readied the sails. I was in love again.