One afternoon at Lake Hartwell I watched a man trying to steer his Go Fast boat onto its trailer. The man's wife was ashore, in charge of backing the trailer into the water ... always a potentially disastrous situation, at least so far as marriage is concerned.
Especially when the captain is in over his head and has no idea what he's doing.
Wasn't long before the man was turning red, screaming and flapping his arms like a gigged salamander. Folks on the parking lot couldn't help but stare and take notice. Then he started cursing his wife, calling her a zoo-full of rare and colorful expletives for her inability to back the trailer into the precise position he commanded.
What would it have actually taken to stave off divorce and get the boat sliding onto its trailer ... without all the rage, the volume and all the screaming hysterics? Would moving the trailer another inch or two to the left have made any difference?
Wait ... do you mean my left, or his left?
Or do I mean the guy was a ninny at driving his big expensive new boat, and blaming his wife with thundering curses (and using his hands to make obscene gestures, instead of using them to steer and guide the boat) was easier than facing facts ... or the faces of all the folks watching and snickering out of earshot?
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Just watched a guy single-hand a 85-foot Azimuth (that's a $6.5 million dollar yacht) alongside the dock in a 12mph crosswind ... without even bouncing the fenders off the rub rails. He threw his line down from the flying bridge while the woman aboard stood at the transom and threw her stern line to a dock attendant.
The lines got tied, he shut down the engines, and that was that. Without any screaming, temper fits or even needing a second (or ninth) attempt to get the boat docked. Pure, simple no-fuss. Ho hum, the job got done.
Any captain can throw tantrums, raise his voice and scream orders to disguise his ineptness.
But Excellence is by example.
Tantrum-throwing, billowing captains need not apply.
Sunday afternoon after church I was walking down the dock just in time to watch another guy single-hand a 55-foot SeaRay alongside ... entirely by himself. No dock hands standing by to grab ropes, no "First Mate" with a boat hook, just him all by his lonesome.
Why do I spend so much time watching folks docking their boats? Cause I still got lots n' lots to learn.
