A boat by any other name...

Luck, skill, automation, craftsmanship

- Sam Llewellyn

Summer is icumen in and no mistake. The varnish is gleaming, the antifouling is impeccable and soft breezes stir the burgee. What remains to be done? Nothing. No, wait a minute. Think transom. A perfectly-polished wineglass shape, exquisitely perforated at the splay by the exhaust skinfitting. An abstract shape that fills the soul with joy. But something is missing. What?

A name, that's what.

Your boat will almost certainly already have a name. One hopes that it may not be Costa Plenty or, like a matched pair of semi-derelict river craft that once polluted the upper Severn, Stimula and Fiesta, named, apparently, after exotically modified brands of gent's personal requisite. Some like to call their darlings things like Physiological Ineptitude III, though the difficulty of spelling this to the coastguard over the VHF in an emergency means that natural selection has taken its toll and there are few such idiots left. Keep it simple, is a good maxim.