The Anecdotal Life Part. 37
In my current boat classes words flare up in vivid pictures before my eyes like, collision, on fire, man overboard, six boats sank, gale force winds, and little things like squalls and hurricanes. While I listen transfixed and dripping in anxiety, I swear I will never be a pilot of my own boat or go out on the water again...Until I get there. Take Sunday for instance. All my mother's admonitions, my promises to my family were temporarily set aside and I headed straight into the next adventure.
My son and his partner, myself, and a hired Captain from an approved list given to me by CAPCA, all went out together. The guys knew less than nothing about crewing, but our Capt. gave them no time to debate the issue and proceeded to induct them into boating jargon, line handling, safety precautions, etc. I was to take the boat out by myself with the Captain standing over my shoulder spewing out orders lickety cut. Everything you learn in class blows out the isinglass windows and one can be lost in regard to the difference between markers and what to do about oncoming boats. I didn't really panic, but came close a time or two. The worst half-hour came when I was left alone at the helm to maneuver in a harbor among boats all struggling with the wind as I was. Sometimes doing nothing was the best answer. You fast learn that you'd better hurry up and figure it out by yourself or it could get "interesting".
The real shock is how many birdbrains one is surrounded with in other boats. One pilot spent an inordinate amount of time( while we spent an inordinate amount of gas) trying to decide whether he should go into the dock bow first or stern first and whether he should tie up port or starboard. When I told the Captain the name of the boat he couldn't believe it. It was called "Out of Control". However, I had more sympathy when it was our turn to dock. He had a less manageable single engine and we found out quickly the wind and current had not been exactly helpful.
Another boat came in stern first since they had lost all steering control at the helm. That was one pilot who had my respect. Yet another pilot took our breath away when he ran to the right of a red marker into the mud. He got out of it finally, but didn't deserve to. It was great to see my son and his partner get caught up with charts, become more adept with the lines and even take a turn at the helm. That was heartstopping for me since I knew what he didn't know.
BUT! We made it home all safe and exhausted. That's exhilarating hard work! I never fully understood why people want to scare themselves to death by going boating until Sunday. It gave me the same feeling as skiing downhill on a good slope. Back when I had a healthy spine to do it. The only way I can describe it is "What a rush!"
Now I have to go back and put everything up and away for the winter haul out. Jeepers. Just when we were getting started. Immediately, we began making plans for spring.
Copyright: October 25, 2006
My son and his partner, myself, and a hired Captain from an approved list given to me by CAPCA, all went out together. The guys knew less than nothing about crewing, but our Capt. gave them no time to debate the issue and proceeded to induct them into boating jargon, line handling, safety precautions, etc. I was to take the boat out by myself with the Captain standing over my shoulder spewing out orders lickety cut. Everything you learn in class blows out the isinglass windows and one can be lost in regard to the difference between markers and what to do about oncoming boats. I didn't really panic, but came close a time or two. The worst half-hour came when I was left alone at the helm to maneuver in a harbor among boats all struggling with the wind as I was. Sometimes doing nothing was the best answer. You fast learn that you'd better hurry up and figure it out by yourself or it could get "interesting".
The real shock is how many birdbrains one is surrounded with in other boats. One pilot spent an inordinate amount of time( while we spent an inordinate amount of gas) trying to decide whether he should go into the dock bow first or stern first and whether he should tie up port or starboard. When I told the Captain the name of the boat he couldn't believe it. It was called "Out of Control". However, I had more sympathy when it was our turn to dock. He had a less manageable single engine and we found out quickly the wind and current had not been exactly helpful.
Another boat came in stern first since they had lost all steering control at the helm. That was one pilot who had my respect. Yet another pilot took our breath away when he ran to the right of a red marker into the mud. He got out of it finally, but didn't deserve to. It was great to see my son and his partner get caught up with charts, become more adept with the lines and even take a turn at the helm. That was heartstopping for me since I knew what he didn't know.
BUT! We made it home all safe and exhausted. That's exhilarating hard work! I never fully understood why people want to scare themselves to death by going boating until Sunday. It gave me the same feeling as skiing downhill on a good slope. Back when I had a healthy spine to do it. The only way I can describe it is "What a rush!"
Now I have to go back and put everything up and away for the winter haul out. Jeepers. Just when we were getting started. Immediately, we began making plans for spring.
Copyright: October 25, 2006
posted by The Anecdotal Life at 10:06 AM
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