Of Captains and Admirals...

Of Captains and Admirals...

I have been sailing (on my boats) for about 20 years. You would think I would know better; you would think I was beyond poor decisions; but, apparently not. Er hmm...

Woke up this morning to winds sustained at 30-35 knots (and over at times) with much higher gusts. We were under a Gale Warning. That was all the more reason to get off the boat and to the "barn", which is what I call the common area at the City Marina. Well the seas weren't very pretty, as you can imagine. My wife stood beside me, we both looked out to the spray, and she expressed her concern to me about making that trip and how she didn't want to get wet. I explained to her that we weren't going to be able to work on the boat very well with it blowing like that... not to mention the power needed to keep up all the computers without any solar going. I spoke with conviction, she spoke with uncertainty. Conviction always wins.

Being a very thoughtful dad and husband, I decided that the best thing to do was to load the boat down with everything we needed so I didn't have to make that trip twice. Once was going to be bad enough. So we did as I commanded. We loaded: Four different backpacks and computer bags filled with various computers, hard drives, power cords, phones, legal pads, etc. We then loaded in another large bag filled with a dozen text books, writing pads, workbooks, etc. We then loaded in all of our clothes so we could take showers up at the barn - including towels, rags, jackets (it was cold!), etc. 

At this point, the tender was looking a bit like Sanford and Son's truck. The seas were getting higher. The spray was getting stronger. I looked out and realized that I really didn't want to make that trip twice (not sure if I mentioned that, but I did to her, twice now). I was certain of my judgement. As such, and against my wife's growing concerns, we loaded in all of our shower stuff (good Lord women carry a bunch of cosmetics), my bag of toiletries, the kids bags, etc. We then began loading the bag with Fatty's food (our English Bulldog), her toys, her blanket, her bowls, etc. Remember, I did not want to make this trip twice.

It was at this point, our tender no longer had any seating and no longer resembled Sanford and Son's truck - it was more like one of the garbage trucks that picks up limbs and trees, with items bellowing over the top and sides. I began to hear some unusual rumblings on the wind that sounded like my wife's voice, but I was certain it was simply sirens in the spray. I know this because I asked her, "You say something, Honey?" She stares at me a moment, then looks at the tender. "Uh, no. Carry on, Captain, but I think this is a bad idea. I don't want to get wet. You sure we shouldn't make two trips?" 'We' was 'me', by the way... a point I was quick to express.

You know, as the Captain of my vessel, the man of my house, I really resent it when my decisions become repeatedly questioned. It makes me doubt myself. So I reached down, grabbed Fatty, and tossed her (against her growling wishes) into the tender. I pointed at the kids and told them to crawl aboard. I stepped on, confidently. I instructed my wife, who insisted she didn't even have a place to sit, that she could sit on top of the junk just like everyone else. 

It is important to point out that our tender is exactly ten feet, two inches long. Dry, it has a freeboard (the distance between the water and the water coming over the top) of about twelve inches. The tender now has a freeboard of about two inches and is listing badly to starboard (where my wife was sitting, which was very coincidental, so that you know). I released the painter and we were off!

It took almost one second before I realized I might have made an egregious error: The first large spray broke over the starboard side. Then my wife, who blushes when she says "dang", said a word I am not sure I have ever heard her say before. It was a critical moment in time and I was not sure I felt comfortable with my children hearing such language (from her that is, I say it all the time). Of course, I could have turned back. We were only a few feet from the boat, and the barn was about a quarter mile away. But if we did turn back, that would have meant defeat for me. It would show that she was right and I was wrong. Such things do not boost the morale of your crew, they do not instill confidence. Visions of George Washington standing on the bow of his boat, pointing across the Potomac, came to mind. His men supported him! What if he had turned back? What if MacArthur had? History is filled with leaders doing what is right, instead of what is easy. I shared that thought with my wife and she mouthed another very uncouth word. Diplomacy was quickly coming to an end.

I explained to her that the problem was we were sitting too flat. We needed to get the bow up. It would block the spray. We simply needed to go faster. My wife began to call out insults in my direction, but I looked away and punched it. 

Now some would think this was egregious error number two. It was not. That comes later because technically I was right. The bow did block the spray (on the port side, where I sat), but unfortunately the now lower stern took on the seas, not spray, to the starboard side (where she sat). The first one washed aboard, and the foul language that my wife was screaming out, came to a halt. She turned to me and stared at me: lips pursed, eyes narrowed, hair dripping wet. Even as the next many waves came aboard on our trip, she never quit staring at me. It felt unnerving, really, like those horror movies when the werewolf is watching you from behind but you don't dare turn towards it. And like a werewolf, she never spoke another word. She took it. She got tough. As we pulled up to the dock, I decided to break the awkward silence and I told her I was proud of her. THAT, dear readers, was egregious error number two.

I am happy to say that my wife is again speaking to me. She has said many things like, "Have fun with the kids," "Hope you don't mind sleeping in the cockpit," "Guess who's washing all the wet clothes?" 

Me, I have realized that being the captain of a boat comes with many challenges: Crew, morale, hard decisions, and the grim reality that every captain has an admiral... and I have mine.

Brian