"Roger Long" wrote in message
...
Our new marina dock is much friendlier than the one last year. It isn't
the people so much as it is that there are people. Last year, we were in
the land of boats that never go out. The boats don't get much more use
where we are now but the people are there nearly every night emptying beer
cans, grilling, and enjoying their bit of waterfront.



Almost every time I come in now, I can count on seeing a large friendly
fellow walking towards my slip to heave heroically on the top of the
lifeline stanchions to keep the boat from getting close enough that I can
step off instead of jumping or to heave the bow line so tight that I can't
bring the stern in.



Tonight, I was coming in with my son and one of his friends standing on
each side of the rail gate. We'd had an exhilarating sail and they were
in the mood to participate and let me talk them through the process.
Actually, there isn't much process at the new slip where current, wind,
and prop walk all align nearly as favorably as they did fiendishly at last
year's slip from hell. I motor in, stop the boat, step off, tie the
lines. Why the neighbors haven't noticed this by now and still insist on
rushing over to crack the gelcoat around my stanchion bases is just one of
life's mysteries.



Anyway, there was one of the BFF's "Big Friendly Fellows", walking quickly
towards our slip. "Thanks,", I called, "We're all set." He stopped and
turned back. I turned my attention back towards the side of the boat. I
like to stop three inches off and it was a little hard to judge with two
large teenagers in the way. When I was about to put the boat in reverse
and looked up, there was the BFF standing right by the bow cleat. I knew
the boys were going to defer to him and flub my instructions so I said
again, "THANKS, We're all set. I want to talk them through it."



The boat stopped but he didn't. He grabbed the bow line as the boys
stepped off. I said again, "THANKS VERY MUCH. WE'VE GOT IT!"



He dropped the bow line in the water and went stalking off. I realized he
was angry. He shouted back over his shoulder as he left, "That's the way
we do things here. We're a friendly bunch and we help each other out."
Well, some days you just can't help being an asshole, (me, I mean). I
guess he won't be helping me again.



By this time of course, the boys, distracted by the exchange, had
completely lost track of the program. I grabbed the last foot of dockline
just before the bow swung into the next boat. Things were happening too
quickly now to get the boys engaged so they just ended up standing around
watching me tie up, again.



I was a drug counselor in a former lifetime and still remember one of the
books that was in the center. The title was, "Does Help, Help?" Good
question.



Sometimes you just can't not get help. We run into this a lot when I'm
returning to the dock with students. I usually sing out that they're
students and I need them to learn, but every once in a while, someone just
has to help. Mostly, I'm able to dissuade my students from giving the person
on the dock a line. I usually warn them in advance not to accept help and to
tell the person offering it that it was my decision.

--
"j" ganz @@
www.sailnow.com