15th February 2008, 01:38
Whats the difference (if any) between an engine and a motor ? I'm sure the engineering expertise on here can tell me.
15th February 2008, 01:38
Whats the difference (if any) between an engine and a motor ? I'm sure the engineering expertise on here can tell me.
15th February 2008, 02:24
"Electrical engineers were likely the first to make sparks about the word "motor" being reserved for those producing power via electricity, whereas engines were strictly internal combustion things. Motors hummed while engines barked and shouted and threw pistons."
If we go by that then Motor Vessel (MV) will be Engine Vessel (EV), we will not reading Motor Ship but Engine Ship, General Motors would be General Engine, we would be riding Harley Enginecycles instead of Harley Motorcyles, and so on.
I still like to call internal combustion things engines and those electric things that spin motors but it is hard to reteach history the Selindia the first Engine Ship instead of the first motor ship.
15th February 2008, 02:40
I found this at http://palimpsest.stanford.edu/byform/mailing-lists/texcons/1997/12/msg00022.html
Subject: engines vs. motors
From: Diana Komejan <dkomejan@xxxxxxxxxxxx>
Date: Fri, 19 Dec 1997 10:37:48 -0800
Date: Fri, 19 Dec 1997 09:38:47 -0500
Subject: engines vs. motors
As George Prytulak, Industrial Collections Conservator at the Canadian
Conservation Institute and I were just discussing outboard engines in my
collection. This is his reply to Molly Sheren.
Engine: "A device that converts heat energy in a fuel into mechanical
energy that can be used to [do] work..." (J. Webster. Small
Engines-Operation and Service. Chicago: American Technical Publishers,1981)
Motor: "Technically it refers to an electric motor and should never be
used when referring to the engine [of an automobile]"
(A.L. Dyke. Dyke's Automobile and Gasoline Engine Encyclopedia. 6th
edition. Toronto: McClelland, Goodchild & Stewart, 1918)
So, it follows that an "engine" is powered by gasoline, kerosene, diesel
fuel, hot air or steam--anything but electricity or a clockwork mechanism.
You will never find an "electric engine."
A "motor" is powered by electricity or a clockwork mechanism. It's clean.
It's cool. (Never mind how the electricity is generated. ) You won't come
across a "steam motor, " and you shouldn't see a "gasoline motor" either,(
but you will, because of sloppy writing and editing).
Modern diesel-electric locomotives are an interesting case in point. The
diesel engine drives an on-board generator that provides electricity to the
electric (traction) motors. Perfectly clear. Sort of...
The confusion arises with the use of "motor" as a prefix or adjective, as
in, "motorboat, motorcycle, motorscooter, motor car, "etc. All of these
have "engines." Technical books refer to "motor cycle engines," "motor
boat engines," and "motor car engines." It doesn't help that we have
"motorsports, motorists, and motor oil," but what can you do? "Motor" is
easier to say. It rolls off the tongue, unlike "engine, " that jerks
along. The influence of German immigrants, maybe. Say, "engine cycle," or
"enginesports." Ach! To make things worse, we have General Motors, Ford
Motor Company , American Motors, Mopar, Motown and all the rest. In this
case, you could argue that "motor(s)" signifies "automobile(s). "
External vs. internal power is not a factor in deciding between engine and
motor. Steam engines are external combustion engines (for example, the
source of power--the boiler--can be in another room for a large stationary
Size and horsepower aren't factors, either. Current technical books use the
term "small gas engine," or just "small-engine" in reference to "lawn
equipment, chain saws, outboards or motorcycles." Horse-power can range
from 1/2 to 20.
Anyway, "outboard engine" seems to predate "outboard motor." I've found
the former in a 1948 book. Of course, on the same page we find the makers
of these "engines" --Johnson Motors and Evinrude Motors. It's not
surprising that "outboard motor" found its way into the language. It's
easier to say.
Recommendation: refer to the artifact as an "outboard engine" or "outboard
marine engine" or "motorboat outboard engine." Anything but an "outboard
motor." "Outboard engine" was technically correct 50 years ago and it's
technically correct today.
Conservator, Industrial Collections
Canadian Conservation Institute
15th February 2008, 17:17
Surfaceblow I take my hat off to you - Thank you.
Though oddly, Chief Engineer sounds right - Chief Motorman sounds wrong ! but perhaps this could be the result of familiarity.
15th February 2008, 19:24
I've amended the title of this thread to better attract motor and engine enthusiasts.
15th February 2008, 20:30
I agree with Surfaceblow's description and with the gentleman in the reproduced email. An engine exploits the energy of a fuel in the transfer of heat (this also includes "steam engines". To motors, we should add "telemotor" - no heat here, just hydralics!
16th February 2008, 00:17
I thought engine was in a ship and motor meant outboard motor - unless of course it was an inboard outboard but it was still a motor. I could be wrong of course (EEK)
16th February 2008, 00:32
An engine is a device that turns reciprocating motion into rotary output while a motor is purely rotary output.
Just my guess of a defintion
16th February 2008, 01:43
My son tells me a simple lever is an engine ? you know - give me somewhere to stand and i can move the world ?
16th February 2008, 02:03
A lever is a tool.
But your son is technical correct if he is using the lever since he is converting heat energy (changing of the food he eats to do work by a chemical process) to mechanical energy, but only if he sweats.
Bob you forgot about the Wankel rotary engine.
16th February 2008, 02:19
You have cut the knees from under me!
16th February 2008, 02:28
Bob, the Wankel Engine still barks, and shouts but it doesn't throw pistons just rotors. So my first post is a little bit mis-stated.
16th February 2008, 02:41
THERMODYNAMIC energy, Surfaceblow!
That is what I alluded to!
16th February 2008, 04:41
I have a bookcase fill of books on thermodynamics and combustion. Combustion is a chemical reaction that follows stoichometric principles. An example of this is if you burn propane the reaction will be heat, carbon dioxide and water.
I had no problem with the statement "An engine exploits the energy of a fuel in the transfer of heat".
A lever is a tool no transfer of heat energy except by friction.
The person using the tool is feed a fuel, converts the fuel by chemical reaction into energy and waste products and does work. While the body tries to maintain a constant temperature by sweating. When the sweating begins there is a heat transfer (also it you are in a room full of people you will experience an increase in the room temperature without work and a transfer of heat energy). So the person is an engine at the time they begin to sweat.:sweat:
This was suppose to be funny.
All girls have long hair. Peter has long hair. Therefore Peter is a girl. when I had to learn this the norm has only girls had long hair which was a long time ago.
16th February 2008, 15:52
You've certainly stirred up my old brain! I am going to have to review some books in my library! The things one learns........and forgets!
Although, having said that, I am looking at several fuel contamination cases and its amazing the things that one never forgets!
I did pick up on your humour, I am neither grumpy nor old!
16th February 2008, 16:10
A lot of countries call their shipboard engineers motormen or machinists so where does that leave us? [=P]
16th February 2008, 16:15
A Rose, by any other name, smells just as sweet.
16th February 2008, 16:18
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
Will Shakespeare (1564-1616_
16th February 2008, 16:34
Well, thank you Kris, you are making me blush :)
But seriously he couldn't half write .....
Engine - a machine for producing energy of motion from another form of energy, especially heat that the machine itself generates; Old French (engin); Latin (ingenium = device).
Motor - a thing that imparts motion, a machine especially one using electricity or internal combustion supplying motive power for a vehicle etc, or for some other device with moving parts. Latin (= mover).
16th February 2008, 17:08
First time I've witnessed a discussion on engine/motor differences that has driven "sane" men to poetry competition.
Mind already boggled.
16th February 2008, 17:24
Ah ... but you see, it is "Poetry in Motion", thank you and goodnight Johnny Tillotson, now that ages me ... who says I am sane, anyway, it's all a plot.
16th February 2008, 17:49
Motorman and machinists are unlicense ratings.
16th February 2008, 18:29
He certainly could Raymond.
To be pedantic chief engineer in Norwegian is First Machinist.
16th February 2008, 18:35
First 'engine' mention in English I can find is John Webster.
referring to a lady's hand as "that curious engine, your white hand". 1622.
16th February 2008, 19:14
I always liked McAndrew's Hymn Rudyard Kipling - 1894
Lord, Thou hast made this world below the shadow of a dream,
An', taught by time, I tak' it so - exceptin' always Steam.
From coupler-flange to spindle-guide I see Thy Hand, O God -
Predestination in the stride o' yon connectin'-rod.
John Calvin might ha' forged the same - enorrmous, certain, slow -
Ay, wrought it in the furnace-flame - my "Institutio."
I cannot get my sleep to-night; old bones are hard to please;
I'll stand the middle watch up here-alone wi' God an' these
My engines, after ninety days o' race an' rack an' strain
Through all the seas of all Thy world, slam-bangin' home again.
Slam-bang too much-they knock a wee-the crosshead-gibs are loose;
But thirty thousand mile o' sea has gied them fair excuse....
Fine, clear an' dark-a full-draught breeze, wi' Ushant out o' sight,
An' Ferguson relievin' Hay. Old girl, ye'll walk to-night!
His wife's at Plymouth.... Seventy-One-Two-Three since he began-
Three turns for Mistress Ferguson.... an' who's to blame the man?
There's none at any port for me, by drivin' fast or slow,
Since Elsie Campbell went to Thee, Lord, thirty years ago.
(The year the 'Sarah Sands' was burned. Oh roads we used to tread,
Fra' Maryhill to Pollokshaws-fra' Govan to Parkhead!)
Not but they're ceevil on the Board. Ye'll hear Sir Kenneth say:
"Good morrn, McAndrew! Back again? An' how's your bilge to-day?"
Miscallin' technicalities but handin' me my chair
To drink Madeira wi' three Earls - the auld Fleet Engineer,
That started as a boiler-whelp-when steam and he were low.
I mind the time we used to serve a broken pipe wi' tow.
Ten pound was all the pressure then - Eh! Eh! - a man wad drive;
An' here, our workin' gauges give one hunder' fifty-five!
We're creepin' on wi' each new rig - less weight an' larger power:
There'll be the loco-boiler next an' thirty mile an hour!
Thirty an' more. What I ha' seen since ocean-steam began
Leaves me no doot for the machine: but what about the man?
The man that counts, wi' all his runs, one million mile o' sea:
Four time the span from earth to moon.... How far, O Lord, from Thee?
That wast beside him night an' day. Ye mind my first typhoon?
It scoughed the skipper on his way to jock wi' the saloon.
Three feet were on the stokehold floor - just slappin' to an' fro -
An' cast me on a furnace-door. I have the marks to show.
Marks! I ha' marks o' more than burns-deep in my soul an' black,
An' times like this, when things go smooth, my wickudness comes back.
The sins o' four and forty years, all up an' down the seas,
Clack an' repeat like valves half-fed.... Forgie's our trespasses.
Nights when I'd come on deck to mark, wi' envy in my gaze,
The couples kittlin' in the dark between the funnel stays;
Years when I raked the ports wi' pride to fill my cup o' wrong-
Judge not, O Lord, my steps aside at Gay Street in Hong-Kong!
Blot out the wastrel hours of mine in sin when I abode -
Jane Harrigan's an' Number Nine, The Reddick an' Grant Road!
An' waur than all-my crownin' sin-rank blasphemy an' wild.
I was not four and twenty then-Ye wadna judge a child?
I'd seen the Tropics first that run-new fruit, new smells, new air-
How could I tell-blind-fou wi' sun-the Deil was lurkin' there?
By day like playhouse-scenes the shore slid past our sleepy eyes;
By night those soft, lasceevious stars leered from those velvet skies,
In port (we used no cargo-steam) I'd daunder down the streets-
An ijjit grinnin' in a dream-for shells an' parrakeets,
An' walkin'-sticks o' carved Bamboo an' blowfish stuffed an' dried-
Fillin' my bunk wi' rubbishry the Chief put overside.
Till, off Sumbawa Head, Ye mind, I heard a landbreeze ca'
Milk-warm wi' breath o' spice an' bloom: "McAndrews, come awa'!"
Firm, clear an' low-no haste, no hate-the ghostly whisper went,
Just statin' eevidential facts beyon' all argument:
"Your mither's God's a graspin' deil, the shadow o' yoursel',
"Got out o,' books by meenisters clean daft on Heaven an' Hell.
"They mak' him in the Broomielaw, o' Glasgie cold an' dirt,
"A jealous, pridefu' fetich, lad? that's only strong to hurt,
"Ye'll not go back to Him again an' kiss His red-hot rod,
"But come wi' Us" (Now, who were 'They'?) "an' know the Leevin' God,
"That does not kipper souls for sport or break a life in jest,
"But swells the ripenin' cocoanuts an' ripes the woman's breast."
An' there it stopped: cut off: no more; that quiet, certain voice-
For me, six months o' twenty-four, to leave or take at choice.
'Twas on me like a thunderclap-it racked me through an' through-
Temptation past the show o' speech, unnamable an' new-
The Sin against the Holy Ghost? . . . An? under all, our screw.
That storm blew by but left behind her anchor-shiftin' swell,
Thou knowest all my heart an' mind? Thou knowest, Lord, I fell-
Third on the 'Mary Gloster' then, and first that night in Hell!
Yet was Thy hand beneath my head: about my feet Thy care-
Fra' Deli clear to Torres Strait, the trial o' despair,
But when we touched the Barrier Reef Thy answer to my prayer...
We dared na run that sea by night but lay an' held our fire,
An' I was drowzin' on the hatch-sick-sick wi' doubt an' tire:
"Better the sight of eyes that see than wanderin' o' desire!
Ye mind that word? Clear as our gongs-again, an' once again,
When rippin' down through coral-trash ran out our moorin' chain;
An' by Thy Grace I had the Light to see my duty plain.
Light on the engine-room-no more-bright as our carbons burn.
I've lost it since a thousand times, but never past retum.
Obsairve! Per annum we'll have here two thousand souls aboard-
Think not I dare to justify myself before the Lord,
But-average fifteen hunder' souls safe-borne fra port to port-
I am o' service to my kind. Ye wadna' blame the thought?
Maybe they steam from grace to wrath-to sin by folly led,-
It isna mine to judge their path-their lives are on my head.
Mine at the last-when all is done it all comes back to me,
The fault that leaves six thousand ton a log upon the sea.
We'll tak' one stretch-three weeks an' odd by any road ye steer-
Fra' Cape Town east to Wellington-ye need an engineer.
Fail there-ye've time to weld your shaft-ay, eat it, ere ye're spoke,
Or make Kerguelen under sail-three jiggers burned wi' smoke!
An' home again, the Rio run: it's no child's play to go
Steamin' to bell for fourteen days o' snow an' floe an' blow-
The bergs like kelpies overside that girn an' turn an' shift
Whaur, grindin' like the Mills o' God, goes by the big South drift.
(Hail, snow an' ice that praise the Lord: I've met them at their work,
An' wished we had anither route or they anither kirk.)
Yon's strain, hard strain, o' head an' hand, for though Thy Power brings
All skill to naught, Ye'll understand a man must think o' things.
Then, at the last, we'll get to port an' hoist their baggage clear-
The passengers, wi' gloves an' canes-an' this is what I'll hear:
ÒWell, thank ye for a pleasant voyage. The tender's comin' now."
While I go testin' follower-bolts an' watch the skipper bow.
They've words for everyone but me-shake hands wi' half the crew,
Except the dour Scots engineer, the man they never knew.
An' yet I like the wark for all we've dam' few pickin's here-
No pension, an' the most we earn's four hunder' pound a year.
Better myself abroad? Maybe. I'd sooner starve than sail
Wi' such as call a snifter-rod 'ross' .... French for nightingale.
Commeesion on my stores? Some do; but I can not afford
To lie like stewards wi' patty-pans. I'm older than the Board.
A bonus on the coal I save? Ou ay, the Scots are close,
But when I grudge the strength Ye gave I'll grudge their food to 'those.'
(There's bricks that I might recommend-an' clink the fire-bars cruel.
No! -Wangarti at the worst-an' damn all patent fuel
Inventions? Ye must stay in port to mak' a patent pay.
My Deeferential Valve-Gear taught me how that business lay,
I blame no chaps wi' clearer head for aught they make or sell.
I found that I could not invent an' look to these-as well.
So, wrestled wi' Apollyon-Nah!-fretted like a bairn-
But burned the workin'-plans last run wi' all I hoped to earn.
Ye know how hard an Idol dies, an' what that meant to me-
E'en tak' it for a sacrifice acceptable to Thee....
Below there! Oiler! What's your wark? Ye find her runnin' hard?
Ye needn't swill the cap wi' oil - this isn't the Cunard.
Ye thought? Ye are not paid to think. Go, sweat that off again!
Tck! Tck! It's deeficult to sweer nor tak' The Name in vain!
Men, ay an' women, call me stern. Wi' these to oversee
Ye'll note I've little time to burn on social repartee.
The bairns see what their elders miss; they'll hunt me to an' fro,
Till for the sake of-well, a kiss-I tak' 'em down below.
That minds me of our Viscount loon-Sir Kenneth's kin-the chap
Wi' russia leather tennis-shoon an' spar-decked yachtin'-cap.
I showed him round last week, o'er all-an' at the last says he:
"Mister McAndrews, don't you think steam spoils romance at sea?"
Damned ijjit! I'd been doon that morn to see what ailed the throws,
Manholin', on my back-the cranks three inches off my nose.
Romance! Those first-class passengers they like it very well,
Printed an' bound in little books; but why don't poets tell?
I'm sick of all their quirks an' turns-the loves an' doves they dream-
Lord, send a man like Robbie Burns to sing the Song o' Steam!
To match wi' Scotia's noblest speech yon orchestra sublime
Whaurto-uplifted like the Just-the tail-rods mark the time.
The Crank-throws give the double-bass; the feed-pump sobs an' heaves:
An' now the main eccentrics start their quarrel on the sheaves.
Her time, her own appointed time, the rocking link-head bides,
Till-hear that note?-the rod's return whings glimmerin' through the guides.
They're all awa! True beat, full power, the clangin' chorus goes
Clear to the tunnel where they sit, my purrin' dynamoes.
Interdependence absolute, foreseen, ordained, decreed,
To work, Ye'll note, at any tilt an' every rate o' speed.
Fra skylight-lift to furnace-bars, backed, bolted, braced an' stayed,
An' singin' like the Mornin' Stars for joy that they are made;
While, out ot touch o' vanity, the sweatin' thrust-block says:
"Not unto us the praise, or man-not unto us the praise!"
Now, a' together, hear them lift their lesson-theirs an' mine:
"Law, Order, Duty an' Restraint, Obedience, Discipline!"
Mill, forge an' try-pit taught them that when roarin' they arose,
An' whiles I wonder if a soul was gied them wi' the blows.
Oh for a man to weld it then, in one trip-hammer strain,
Till even first-class passengers could tell the meanin' plain!
But no one cares except mysel' that serve an' understand
My seven thousand horse-power here. Eh, Lord! They're grand - they're grand!
Uplift am I? When first in store the new-made beasties stood,
Were Ye cast down that breathed the Word declarin' all things good?
Not so! O' that warld-liftin' joy no after-fall could vex,
Ye've left a glimmer still to cheer the Man - the Arrtifex!
That holds, in spite o' knock and scale, o' friction, waste an' slip,
An' by that light-now, mark my word-we'll build the Perfect Ship.
I'll never last to judge her lines or take her curve-not I.
But I ha' lived an' I ha' worked. All thanks to Thee, Most High!
An' I ha' done what I ha' done - judge Thou if ill or well -
Always Thy Grace preventin' me... Losh! Yon's the "Stand by" bell.
Pilot so soon? His flare it is. The mornin'-watch is set.
Well, God be thanked, as I was sayin', I'm no Pelagian yet.
Now I'll tak' on....
'Morrn, Ferguson. Man, have ye ever thought
What your good leddy costs in coal? ...I'll burn em down to port.
Save ye owe the fates a jest be slow to jest with them
16th February 2008, 19:26
Encyclopaedic (1922) definition of MOTOR.
Word used in a number of senses
In machinery, a motor is a "Prime Mover", eg, a steam engine, and electric motor, and internal combustion engine, etc.
In the latter case it is used as an adjective.
First motor to operate on a practical scale was in 1834. Jacobi, in St Petersburg, propelling a boat on the river Neva.
Generic name now given to a class of machines for the conversion of one form of energy into another.
Formerly a term used for a large variety of appliances, such as beer-engine, water-engine etc; its present day usage is chiefly confined to the names of steam-engine, gas-engine, and oil or combustion engines.
I have chosen the 1922 definition as it shows the transitional period definition.
Rather like my grandfather used to say, 'all donkeys is animals, but not all animals is donkeys'.
16th February 2008, 19:31
Joe, I have copied that and I will print it up to give a good read. It's worth more than a hurried scan online with the screen needing to slide up and down, like an engine arm.
16th February 2008, 21:00
Surfaceblow, I would have had to stay up all night to type that. Well done
All my reference books in my library relate to gardening these days, Ive even given away my copy of Babcock "Steam" but a garden spade or fork is still a lever therefore a sort of engine.
In NZ an engineer is just that, a motorman is an engine room assistant or greaser and a machinist or mechanician is a Royal naval term for a stoker PO who has advanced to a status similar to an ERA.
"Beside the ungathered rice he lay
His sickle in his hand
His chest was bare, his matted hair
laid buried in the sand"
I put that in because I cannot remember any nautical poems at the moment
16th February 2008, 21:23
I was given a picture of my last ship with Mc Andrews' Hymn printed over it by the Captain of my last ship when I retired.
So I can not take credit for the typing I have a copy of the poem on the computer that Captain Ed sent me a while back.
16th February 2008, 22:54
Rapidly turning into poets corner.
Lets have some musical engine differences:-
Diesel "motors" play..... Heavy metal Punk rock and say "Tinitus in one ear and deaf in the other"
Steam triple recips. play nicely..."Speed bonny boat.. over the sea to Skye"
and say "Rheumatism and a lost finger two"
Steam turbines play a heterodyne song and don't say much at all.
But whine alot about the noise from the gearbox. Bit like rapping.
But the lullaby is sung by a steam triple with an exhaust tubine clutched in.
16th February 2008, 23:06
You are right Dave, there is nothing like the sight, the sound and the grace of a knock kneed turbine
16th February 2008, 23:11
I see it oft since you've been away...
The island, the verandah, and the fruit,
the tiny steamer breaking from the bay,
the literary mornings with its hoot,
our ugly comic servant, and then you,
lovely and willing every afternoon ....
17th February 2008, 07:14
Not sure this will help matters but according to my discharge book I was a engineer on a motor ship.
But we referred to the Port Engine or Starboard Engine.
It is a clear as mud
2nd December 2008, 04:54
The definition of motor is.....a machine that converts energy into motion.
2nd December 2008, 22:31
Its all a load of "semantics" if you ask me.
2nd December 2008, 22:41
Some of the early Semantics were linguistic compounds (usually triple expansion) but after the war (of the words) the company was taken over by Semiotics and all of the engines were opposed pistons fueled by Semasiology and it was accepted by the Bored of Trade that engines were motors, and motors were engines, unless they were outboard of the outboard ones; when of course they were two and not one. (Jester)
2nd December 2008, 22:56
That must have been painful.
2nd December 2008, 22:57
Just reading this thread has made my eyes spin ... (so I think I'm a motor) ... but also made me sweat .... (so maybe I'm an engine).
As for poetry, well, it's easier to think up something to rhyme with motor than with engine.
2nd December 2008, 23:11
One dare not ask the time of day.
2nd December 2008, 23:14
As for poetry, well, it's easier to think up something to rhyme with motor than with engine.
I’m very good at integral and also diesel motors;
I know the scientific names of those engines Semiotic
In short, in matters engineering, mechanical and automotic,
I have a smallish model of those modern Major-Monitors.
But I can write an engineering bill in Electronic draft,
And tell you every detail of a Doxford’s moving camshaft
Although, in matters vegetable, animal, or enzyme,
I still cannot find a word to really rhyme with engine
3rd December 2008, 01:08
I think I will just "motor" off down the freeway, or should that be"wankel"?
4th December 2008, 09:29
Electrically driven machine.
Mechanically driven machine.
Terence Williams. ( retired Elect. Engr ). R538301.(A)
Juan de Basagoiti
5th December 2008, 08:14
Just caught the last from Surfaceblow, a Kipling, never read before;
Reminds me of the days of yore,
When men were men.
And Steam, the power to drive the ships
Thro' stormy blast and raging seas.
Just a thought! Juan