I suppose that makes sense, although I don't think it would be an insurmountable problem: during the ancient period ramming was the primary naval tactic, although warships were plenty manoeuvrable. I believe the common drill was for ships to act in pairs, with one pinning an enemy vessel and the other sailing into it from the side.
I need to dig out the section in
Warrior to Dreadnought where DK Brown addresses ramming - I think his overall conclusion is basically that ramming was almost as dangerous to the initiating ship as the target, and that it was unsuccessful the vast majority of the time. Remember that a ship under steam power can turn very quickly compared to an old rowing ship, and that a rowing ship was deliberately very light (and hence able to accelerate into the sides of an enemy, while also meaning that a ram could be very destructive for not much force behind it).
Essentially, if ramming was effective, then Lissa should have seen ramming actions take place successfully against ships under power... aha!
It is now clear that these views were mistaken61 but they were held strongly at the time and had a major influence on both tactical thinking and on ship design. In particular, the number of collisions showed the difficulty of controlling these ships and should have been seen as demonstrating the difficulty in achieving a deliberate collision. A detailed list62 of ramming attempts showed hardly any successes unless the victim was stationary and serious damage to the attacker was common. The seventy-four incidents considered are summarised in the table opposite. In most of the serious incidents, the damage itself was not very extensive and losses were due to inadequate subdivision (including leaving doors open). The rammer was as likely to be damaged as the intended victim. As a result of the importance attached to ramming, considerable emphasis was placed on end-on fire.
Brown, David K. Warrior to Dreadnought: Warship Design and Development 1860-1905 (Kindle Locations 598-605). Naval Institute Press. Kindle Edition.
And on Lissa specifically:
It is impossible to follow all the contortions the ships were put through; the main object on both sides was to ram any enemy as they made him out, and while they held on with tight nerves for their target, often charging towards them for the same purpose, the guns' crews waited for the shock and the chance to get in a broadside as they came together or raced past The collsions, near misses, touchings and scrapings, many between friends unable to get out of the way in time, were numerous, but at first none were fatal. Even the Affondatore failed to bring her prow into contact with such a ripe target as the Kaiser in two attempts, although she wrought fearful damage in the timber upperworks with 300-pounder shells at pistol-shot range. The Kaiser for her part, passed on from this desperate affair to try and ram the large frigate Re di Portogallo, which was steaming at her with the same intent, and spinning her wheel over at the last moment made contact abreast the Italian's engine room, but at far too fine an angle to enter. Instead she scraped down the iron side, losing her bowsprit and taking a broadside of shells which brought down her foremast, turned her gun decks into shambles and started numerous fires. The Maria Pia, astern of the Portogallo, put two more shells into her as she came past and she retired to put out fires and reorganize the fighting decks. Meanwhile, around what had been the Italian centre, Tegetthoff, who had been no more successful in ramming than Persano, saw through the fog of battle the Re d'ltalia apparently disabled; he made straight for her, his flag captain conning from the mizzen rigging. The Italian's rudder had been damaged by collision or a lucky shell and she couldn't turn her side as the Ferdinand Max's stem approached at full speed, something over 10 knots, and drove straight in, tearing a gap of about 140 square feet, half below water. The Austrian flagship reversed engines and withdrew; the Re d'Italia listed slowly to starboard, suddenly lost stability, rolled to port and went down. Meanwhile a small Italian gunboat, Palestro, dashing in heroically to aid the ironclad, received a shell in her wardroom which set it alight and forced her to retire; later she blew up as the flames reached the magazine. These were the only ship losses of the battle. For the rest, the astonishing series of abortive charges, scrapes and accidental collisions punctuated by broadsides at point-blank swinging targets continued until early afternoon. Then Persano led his scarred ships back to Ancona, while Teggethoff anchored his off Lissa, evidently the victor in possession of the field.
Padfield, Peter. Battleship (pp. 37-38). Thistle Publishing. Kindle Edition.
But the main lesson drawn from the battle was the power of the ram. The dramatic picture of the Re d'ltalia disappearing at one blow, while so much gunnery had hardly accomplished anything, drove out all power of rational analysis. The facts, clear enough in all reports, were that ramming, tried and accidentally achieved scores of times by dozens of ships in ideal conditions, had failed every time it had been attempted against a ship under command; the single success had been against a ship unable to steer. Individual reports showed how a ship about to be rammed could, by a sudden turn of the helm, herself become the rammer, though at too sharp an angle to be decisive. However, it must be remembered that steam was still in its infancy at sea, and naval officers, sail-trained and sail-thinking, while professing to despise engines, held them in some awe. Besides there was already a strong school, apparently logical and of French origin, in favour of ramming. The argument was: engines gave free movement, thus the ability to close and bring the whole gigantic momentum of the ship against the enemy at his most vulnerable point below the waterline, below armour. And compared with the energy of a ship in motion even the largest gun was little better than a pea-shooter. Such a logical approach took little account of an enemy's evasive tactics. Practical experiment with models or small steam boats might have put it into perspective and explained the extraordinary inefficiency of the ram in its own conditions at Lissa. This is clear from hindsight and in the light of modern theory; what was clear in 1866 was that the ram had proved itself in battle, and this led naval constructors and most naval tacticians up false trails for decades.
Padfield, Peter. Battleship (pp. 38-39). Thistle Publishing. Kindle Edition.
