All Piss and Wind (9 page)

A
S A SPORTING FRATERNITY
, we amateur ocean racers seem to waste an awful lot of human resources. Each season there are hundreds of keen young sailors all hoping to secure a regular berth on a racing yacht. At the same time, owners complain they can't attract and hold enough experienced and dependable crew. If there's ever been a system governing these things, then it's clearly not working. The problem isn't lack of talent or opportunity. The centreboard scene offers an unbroken production line of capable young sailors. Meanwhile, there are always gaps in the blue-water ranks caused by the advent of wives, children, work demands or the simple ravages of old age. So why don't supply and demand neatly balance each other as they should?

To my mind both sides of the equation are equally to blame. The wannabe crew too often spoil their chances through some silly misjudgement, while skippers and their senior team-members tend to be ungracious, unhelpful and too quick to condemn. The long-term
health of the sport depends on getting this supply-and-demand formula of a successful ship's company into happy balance. So, in the interests of greater sailing harmony, peace on earth, goodwill to all men and the minimum of post-race fisticuffs at the club bar, may I offer a little friendly advice to both sides.

FIRST, A FEW THOUGHTS FOR INTENDING CREW …

Be punctual

Never mind that the owner and afterguard might regularly turn up late. Make sure you're always at the dock at the appointed hour and ready to start work. If there are some obvious, simple jobs to do – like taking off the covers, bringing halyards back to the mast or running lines on deck – then get cracking. The others will appreciate the effort, and soon tell you if you've done it wrong.

At the other end of the day, never make an arrangement to be somewhere on land any earlier than three hours after the anticipated finish of a race. Nothing irritates skippers more after a long, slow day out on the track than some new crewman trying to shirk the ‘tidy up' work because they're already running late for a dinner party.

Come prepared

Step onto the boat with everything you'll need. Make sure you've got clothing appropriate for that day's racing, plus some spares just in case. Take a tie-on hat and some food and drink if you're not sure lunch will be provided. Pack everything into one modest-sized seabag – and make sure all its compartments close securely. Fishing your favourite pen out of a cockpit drain tends to make a poor first impression.

The other side of preparation is to know as much as you can about the day ahead. Check the tides and weather forecast. Find out what division your boat competes in, the starting time and the
course (if that information is available). It's comforting for the old hands to feel that a new crewmember has taken the trouble to find out what's going on.

Watch and learn

From the moment the first regulars come aboard there will be things to learn from them that are specific to that boat. Even the order in which standard tasks are done can be important. Watch as the gear is being set up and try to remember the details. There's not much point offering to do a job if you then have to ask for step-by-step instructions.

Here's a simple tip. The majority of processes on a yacht are duplicated: they have to be done twice – once on each side. So, just watch as the regular crew runs a kite sheet along the port side and you'll soon know how to mirror that set-up to starboard.

Know your knots

For some reason, very few yachting beginners bother to learn the basic repertoire: bowline, reef knot, clove hitch, stopper (or figure-of-eight) and rolling hitch. Practise them at home with a couple of spare short ends until you can tie each one quickly, and blindfolded. The winch hitch is a handy extra trick to master, especially if you'll be crewing on an older boat that may not have a console of halyard clutches.

It's also essential to know the correct way of tying a line to a cleat securely, and how to neatly make up long stretches of rope such as the fall of a halyard or a docking line. Basic seamanship includes being able to throw a line effectively. It's more difficult than it looks, so wait and watch an old hand do it before you volunteer.

Don't be bashful

If you don't know, don't guess. Ask. That grizzled mast man may pretend to be irritated by your flow of questions but in truth he's
quietly flattered. Passing on practical knowledge to a keen beginner is one of the pleasures of our sport.

However, be careful to keep your queries sensible. Asking a trimmer why that boat to leeward is going so much faster than us is not likely to improve his mood. ‘Need to know' is the best guide. Questions directly related to the tasks at hand will always be answered pronto and willingly. The rest can usually wait until you're back at the bar.

Stick to your job

For the first few months you're likely to be given simple roles. Stick to them. Resist the temptation to demonstrate wider skills. ‘One man/one job' is a principle that makes for safe yacht racing. When everyone in the crew understands exactly what's expected of them their combined efforts can achieve remarkably complex processes, such as gybing the spinnaker, with relative ease.

Sure, it might begin to get a bit boring being a humble grinder/tailer for the whole summer, but if you really keep your eyes and ears open you'll learn a lot about yacht racing in a single season. And even if they don't often say it, the more established members of the crew will always appreciate having someone reliable beside that winch.

Cop the criticism

Yacht racing can get pretty intense. A single botched sequence of tasks can risk injury, thousands of dollars' worth of damage, disqualification, or even loss of a championship. Tempers fray. The most recent addition to the crew is also the most likely to have made the mistake. You will, on many boats, be yelled at very loudly for the slightest misdemeanour.

Most racing cock-ups are either genuine accidents or the result of poor communications. Try to take your chewing-out in good grace, and offer a quick apology. Deflecting blame or getting defensive is a
waste of everyone's time and energy. By the time the dust has settled one of the older hands will most probably be telling you the disaster was partly his fault anyway. Scapegoating isn't within the spirit of the sport.

Be patient

Many young people seek a regular ride on an ocean-going yacht because they're attracted to the glamour of the big events – Hobart, Southport, Port Lincoln, Hamilton Island, the West Coaster. They survive a few 25-milers then get discouraged when their place in the team for the long-distance races suddenly goes to a more seasoned sailor.

It may be hard to accept, but beginners must understand that skippers make their crew selections for the endurance events very carefully, and on criteria that have little to do with round-the-cans racing. Safety is their primary concern, so sailors with proven stamina and all-round experience often jump the queue. Specialist skills (navigator, helmsman, cook) and mandated qualifications (first aid, radio) also have a major impact. It's a big step up from Saturday-afternoon racing to the sustained offshore demands of Category One, so try not to be in a hurry.

Volunteer for anything

The real currency of our sport is labour, not money. Owners can, by definition, afford the materials for refurbishment and maintenance. They'll even fork out for expensive new sails and replacement gear. But what they value most is people who are prepared to contribute their time and labour to the boat.

Sacrificing your entire Sunday to a tedious scrape and anti-foul session may not endear you to the spouse or partner, but it will go a long way to securing you a berth for the next Mooloolaba race. People who regularly turn up for ‘work days' when they could call in sick (or slip away to crew on another yacht) are always remembered.

Get involved

Just doing the race, trotting off home and then showing up for the same again next week is rarely enough to make an impression on the skipper. Becoming an established member of a serious blue-water crew involves real commitment to both the boat and your shipmates. That means showing some initiative, enthusiasm, and demonstrating a bit of loyalty.

Always be keen to check the date and time of the next race and to confirm (in the most subtle way) your availability. Ask if there are any special needs, or if it's your turn to bring the lunch. Offer to pick up that repaired spinnaker from the loft. Try to notice small things on the boat that need attention and fix them yourself. Volunteer to chase up those hard-to-find bits of missing gear. In short, make yourself a genuinely useful member of the team and it will soon adopt you. If all else fails, you can always marry the owner's son or daughter.

NOW, A FEW THINGS SKIPPERS AND ESTABLISHED CREW CAN DO TO ENCOURAGE NEW TALENT INTO THE SPORT …

There's a common end-of-season exchange between whingeing owners that goes something like this:

‘Racing your boat this winter?'

‘Hoping to, mate – that's if I can ever scratch a crew together.'

It's a familiar refrain. Owners of good, competitive yachts are happy to meet the daunting expense of campaigning their pride-and-joy, yet struggle to keep together a settled, loyal bunch of yachties who'll sail the damn thing for them.

The mathematics of this problem defy ordinary logic. There are plenty of good sailors about, and plenty of strong young blokes busting to secure a berth on an ocean-racer. So why do so many boats still scrape by on a core of old hands topped up by a high-turnover fringe of casuals? The answer is that skippers (and to some extent
their regular crews) often inadvertently drive newcomers away. These owners and their ‘old guard' should reconsider what have, regrettably, endured as traditional attitudes within the sport. Many of the following suggestions might seem like straightforward commonsense. The psychology of team-building has become a standard management tool. But it's also worth reminding ourselves that successfully blending any outsider into an existing team requires special effort.

Be civil

When you've invited a newcomer onto your boat for the first time, take the trouble to be early so that you're there when the debutant arrives and everyone in the crew can be properly introduced. Civility can go a long way. Conversely, if the new guy has come at the invitation of an established crewmember, make sure you introduce yourself to them early and make the effort to remember their name. Try to help the beginner feel welcome.

This goes beyond basic decency and good manners: it's good seamanship as well. In a tight situation, yelling ‘Hey, you! What's-yer-name!
Brace back!
' is unlikely to yield a swift response. Knowing the names of everyone on board allows the skipper to direct on-deck tasks with maximum speed and precision. It also helps build a newcomer's self-confidence to hear themselves regularly named as part of the crew.

Show and tell

An ocean-racing yacht can be a pretty daunting contraption for someone straight off a smaller boat. Smart skippers always give new crew a brief orientation tour. ‘Come below, I'll show you where to stow your bag,' is a good opening line. Point out where all the crucial equipment and controls are located – PFDs, EPIRBs, MOB alarm, engine start/kill, fire-extinguishers, first-aid kit, tools, head, fenders, dock lines, boat hook. Take a moment to explain the preferred stacking sequence for sails.

Back on deck, a senior crewmember should run the newcomer over the yacht's basic layout and identify any winches and lines he's likely to be working. People coming from smaller boats often aren't familiar with hydraulics, or the mechanics of large spinnaker poles and multi-speed winches. It's much easier, and safer, to first demonstrate these things calmly at the dock than when you're already hurtling towards the leeward mark in 25 knots.

Keep it simple

Once the boat is under sail, new crew should be given just one basic role. ‘That's
your
winch, mate. Stick to it like glue!' A regular hand can then talk them through the full evolution of a tack so the beginner sees where their individual task fits into the complete process. Stress safety issues. That's not only prudent crew management, but it also makes the new chum feel valued.

It's imperative that beginners in big-boat sailing understand that even the simplest function is vital. Nothing promotes enthusiasm, loyalty and self-esteem more quickly than the knowledge that what you're doing really
matters
.

Cut the jargon

Seasoned sailors delight in the arcane language, processes and rituals of their sport. That's part of yachting's appeal. But it's also arrogant (and unfair) to parade this knowledge in front of those who still have much to learn.

There's no point expecting a new chum to help you run a mouse line to the third reefing point if he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about. Better to turn the job into a quiet little lesson: by the end of the process your pupil should know what ‘VB cord' is (and where it's kept), why we use mouse lines, understand the reefing process, and even be able to tie a passable timber hitch.

The same principles apply to the language of making yachts go faster. Remember that small-boat sailors tend to rely on not much
more than telltales and the seat of their pants. Try to demystify the instrument read-out numbers and outline the way that the flow of data will influence sail selection and trim. For outright beginners you might want to explain the difference between true and apparent wind, or boat-speed and VMG. (But it's always best to assure them that minds much greater than ours up the back of the boat will use all this stuff to make the Big Tactical Decisions – and usually get them wrong.)

Never assume