to have the craft surveyed by a competent man, whose charge will be moderate. It is sure to be money saved. A boat with a bulb fin or a heavily weighted centerboard is peculiarly susceptible to strains and wrenches which a tyro would be likely to pass over, but which would be clearly apparent to the unerring eye of an expert professional.
Sometimes a man who thinks he is built on the lines of a yachting enthusiast joins a yacht club and builds a boat in a fashionable class. After a few weeks he discovers that all his enthusiasm has evaporated; that he takes no interest whatever in the sport. His next course is to offer his craft for sale. He is often so disgusted that he lets a purchaser have her for a song. This is a shrewd man's opportunity, and he should not let it escape. It is not often, however, that such windfalls come in one's way, in spite of the old adage that a simpleton is born every minute.
Let me in all seriousness conjure you never to buy or launch a yacht on a Friday! If you do, you will surely rue it. The superstitions of old sailors are not to be despised. It is quaint and curious that superstition of the sea about the lucklessness of Friday, but I for one most devoutly believe in it. I have reason, too, for on one fine Friday morning, ever so many years ago, I set sail from the port of Sunderland in the stout brig Goshawk, hailing from the port of Shoreham, with Captain Cuddington in
