Don’t forget
your crew
Matthew DiggleWe had almost finished putting away our
gear on the yacht we’d chartered when the
harbourmaster wandered up and offered
to help guide us out of its rather tight berth.
We quickly stowed the last few
items and got the engine
going. The harbourmaster
walked the bow along the
pontoon and then gave us a
shove off. I was acutely aware that
I was being observed as I carefully reversed
away, then spun round quite neatly and
headed out of the marina. The lines and
fenders were being brought in when
I remembered that one of my sailing
instructors had told me that the last step
in all manoeuvres and evolutions was ‘put
the kettle on and make a cup of tea’.
It was at this point that we realised we
had more cups than crew members.
Meanwhile back in the marina, and much to
the harbourmaster’s amusement, my wife
returned from the car with the last few bits
and bobs to find the berth empty and the
boat nowhere to be seen. As I rather
sheepishly turned the boat round and
headed back to collect her I remembered
another piece of advice I’d been given, and
which I think will now always stick in my
mind: ‘before casting off, do a head-count.’
Do you need a wally?
Alex MaioruI would like to share with fellow readers
the darkest, most embarrassing moment
of my sailing life.
We were in Lefkas in Greece. A boat was
coming in stern-to next to us, with a nice
young couple from the Netherlands on
board. By the time I put down the gin and
tonic to help with the lines, the nimble lass
was already on the quay, tying the windward
mooring line. No drama, I said to myself,
wondering about the curious way of holding
the line with her foot while her partner was
throwing the other mooring line.
They had it all under control, so more from
friendly neighbourliness than any real need,
I asked, ‘Can I give you a hand?’
She looked puzzled, so I checked the
ensign quickly. Yep, they were Dutch, so
they must speak English.
‘Do you need a hand?’ I insisted.
Another blank look for an answer.
‘Do you need h-e-l-p?’
She exchanged a few words with her
partner in a language I couldn’t understand,
let alone recognise. So I took the second line
and made it fast.
‘Welcome to Lefkas,’ I said, stepping on
my plank, back aboard to continue enjoying
my drink and thought nothing of it.Come dinner time at a lovely tavern, our
handsome Dutch neighbours strolled past
and my wife and I waved. They returned the
gesture and only at that point did I notice.
The dark earth could not crack a hole deep
enough for me to crawl into its melting
flames. I realised that the Dutch girl had no
hand on one arm and a just a couple of
fingers on the other, which I presumed
a birth defect.
More than 15 years later, I still feel terrible
for the lousiest and most insensitive few
minutes of my life. I’m a worm without a rock.
I sincerely apologise to the charming young
lady for my temporary lapse of vision.
On the upside – I am now always look at
a person’s hands before I ask if they want
help with the lines.Email [email protected] Post Confessions, Yachting Monthly,
TI Media, Pinehurst 2, Pinehurst Road, Farnborough Business Park, Farnborough,
Hampshire GU14 7BF Send us your stories in less than 200 wordsTHE CONFESSIONAL
OWN UP TO YOUR SAILING SINS
THE END
WIN A FLOATING
HANDHELD VHF
UK residents onlyThe confession of the
month wins a Standard
Horizon HX210E water-
proof VHF radio
worth £134.95.
It boasts a water-
activated strobe,
6W transmission,
largest-in-class
screen, an FM
radio and more.http://www.standardhorizon.co.uk