Blog

Every boat requires a skipper. That’s the law. Sometimes that skipper is also the crew as well. For many sailors, this is the happiest arrangement of all. There can be few disagreements—though it’s not unknown for a solo sailor to have some spirited arguments with him- or herself.

Sailors can be a prickly bunch—whose first preference is to sail alone. Their second preference would be to sail with a clone of themselves as crew. And many such sailors find that clone in the form of a pliant spouse—one who can be trained to do things in exactly the manner the skipper desires.

But in the world of casual crews, sometimes people who have only just met and may never see one another again after the journey is over, there are few clones. The challenge is then to get to the basic elements of each person’s knowledge and abilities and build from there.

Both of the authors of the Bareboat Guides have worked as sailing instructors, as delivery crew and charter captains, and as racing crew from Thursday night round-the-cans racing to Americas Cup professional level. Each of these positions requires different skill levels and knowledge, but they all have common elements.

A sailing instructor—at least at the most basic level—is the (relative) expert. Students aboard the boat generally have never sailed before. Now, they may have studied the subject, may have dreamt about it, watched movies on sailing themes and so on, but for most, to step onto a strange boat with unknown people is to step into a foreign world.

In that instance, the instructor has to impart some basic knowledge—but not too much—so as to get the boat underway. Usually the first things taught are the basic knots: the Reef Knot, the Clove Hitch, the Sheet Bend, the Bowline, and so forth. The parts of the boat are named. These incremental lessons serve two purposes. First, they teach skills that must be learned but, they also break the ice—suddenly every one has a hand full of thumbs, can’t remember whether the rabbit goes down the hole, around the tree or in the coal box. Everyone is equal, except of course the all-knowing instructor.

Often on Day One, a nervous student will want to demonstrate their depth of knowledge and superior research. Any instructor can recount an experience such as: When practising tying knots, a student will lean towards the instructor and ask “If we were going around Cape Horn, what would be the best sail combination for a day like today?”
Now, that’s a perfectly reasonable question—but perhaps to be left for a later day. The only possible response is, “Let’s hold that question until we’ve practised getting on and off the dock a couple of times first.”

But on an advanced course, it’s even more difficult, since all participants think they know what they’re doing, but the instructor has to discover whether they really do. And if not, what needs to be done to remedy the situation. This is a tricky situation, in that the instructor doesn’t want to embarrass anyone, can’t be seen to favor one student over another and has to remain calm even as precious time slips rapidly away.

If you are wondering why we are talking about instructors so much, just change that word for “I” or “me”, since the bareboat skipper’s tasks are part instructional and part inspirational. And, like any instructor, bareboat skippers keep learning as the crew throw questions and situations their way.

Delivery crews are usually put together by friends recommending friends. This works well, of course, but there can be personality clashes and posturing sessions involving degrees of boasting and name-dropping. But it’s all in pretty good fun, often accompanied by beers. There, though, the skill level is assumed—and if lacking, the response can be merciless. Some professional delivery crews keep an unpaid position open to a newcomer who works in exchange for the (priceless) experience.

Racing has its own set of rules, in that the crew have very specialized tasks, and are taken on for that very expertise. Though in racing there is a special category, known as Rail Meat, which requires nothing much more than the application of weight to the windward rail when beating upwind. But there is room on board for experts as well as rank beginners.

For the bareboat crew, as for the skipper, all these above situations are applicable. Sometimes the skipper might do all the sailing themselves, or do all the sailing himself with minimal input from the rest of those on board. Or everyone on board–or those who wish to anyway–contributes to the sailing effort. It depends on whether the skipper wants to be an instructor, whether the “crew” want to be a crew at all. Some folks prefer to be passengers, others to be participants.

Some skippers want to run the whole show, others want to orchestrate and chill. But the usual experience is a mix of the two. Sometimes the skipper has to jump in and lead by example, teaching as they go. Other times, a quiet word in someone’s ear—a reminder, a warning—is all it takes to prompt them to the right course of action.

Whatever your preference, remember to keep smiling. Sometimes it’s not easy. Coming into an anchorage later than expected with every spot seemingly occupied, the pressure can mount. Try not to start kicking yourself about not being there earlier—you should have been, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

And remember, people react not to your feelings—which may be fearful and confused—but to your actions and demeanour—which should be calm and affable. The crew looks to their skipper for instruction and solutions, not criticism and condemnation. We have spent enough time anchored amongst the charter fleet to see almost every instance of what to do–and not to do. Marriages have dissolved in front of our very eyes. Most often though, respect has been earned as a skipper rises to the occasion, bringing vessel and crew to a secure position at anchor or on a mooring. High fives are much more common than low blows.

So Fake it ‘til you Make it, could be your mantra. Slow is Pro could be another. Easy does it. Act as if.
Mostly, it’ll be OK. And remember: What happens on the boat, stays on the boat. It’s a law.