Sailboats Are No Place For Optimists

My buddy Ross_in_Tampa and I were chin-waggin’ on the phone yesterday and he told me, ” you’re a glass is half empty guy”.  At first I thought, now wait minute – I believe in the old “take lemons and make lemonade” saying - and am usually positive about any situation.  I can drink my way through almost anything. I guess Ross was specifically referring to my attitude towards sailboats, and after I thought about it – I’m positively negative about sailboats.

I don’t claim to be a RumHead Slocum that circles the globe twice, one hand behind my back in a hand hewn dugout with homemade sails. I’m just a regular (or less than) guy that is neck deep in his 5th sailboat. These last five vessels – they are the reason for my pessimistic attitude, and that my fellow PyratSailors, is the correct attitude. There’s no room for an optimist on a sailboat. When was the last time you looked at that certain, questionable important boat part and thought: “Oh, it will make it one more trip.” Most likely it didn’t.

• That rusty looking back-stay I’ve been eyeing for a few months now, it won’t break this weekend. It breaks.
• The new clicking sound coming from the steering pedestal – it will last another trip. It doesn’t.

On and on and on. These are just the ones you suspect of breaking – then there’s the category of : “What The Hell – That Was Brand New!!”

No Sissies Here

The captain in me always thinks worst case scenario, probably because that’s always what happens, and always with newbie sailors aboard. A sailboat is a complex lump of unreliable man-made parts loosely held together with sta-set line and stainless steel wires. Throw in a countless variety of sea, wind and weather conditions and most of the time you’ll find yourself  wondering why you are sitting in a cockpit instead of in an Irish pub. Of course sailing is a challenge – which explains why we all crawl into our little messes of rope and wire and let the wind blow our butts all over the bay. A sailor can get the most enjoyment from that challenge by approaching his or her vessel with a passion for the art of sailing, an appreciation for seaworthy naval design and the knowledge that this vile boat will attempt to kill, or at the very least, psychologically destroy, the captain before the day is over. Accept it and be at peace.

Give ‘em The Stink Eye

Recently I’ve noticed that my right eye has officially become my stink eye. It filters out all things good and focuses in on the faulty – or soon to be faulty. Just walking down the dock to Mariola, I’m sizing up the other boats along the way - Arrr (always start with Arrr),  that boat there, hatch is bad, probably leaking – my God that halyard is faded and weak looking, the cup holder is broke. Poor bastard. That’s gotta be the reason olde time sailors had that weird squint and nasty sneer. I’m sure those guys had the zipper on their mainsail cover unzip backwards a time or two.

Hear Thee ‘O Delusional One

The optimistic sailor shalt not survive. He will either quickly become a pessimist or be eliminated when that outboard clamp that had one more trip left in it lets loose. That’s just the way it is. Show me an optimistic sailor and I’ll show you a person that, when sailing by a rock strewn jetty ISN”T planning the least damaging way to ground the boat after a powerboat wake has shoved him out of the channel with a strong tide and a diesel that decided to take a siesta.  Yeah, I know – even sodded with rum, my brain still conjurs up this crap.

I will admit there is one small exception to the rule – and only one: When you tell the wife – “don’t worry we’re going to be just fine.”