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.



(Boy Rosalie, does that story about your fandango when the helper cast off
the line prematurely ever resonate.)



--

Roger Long

"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.


Good story.

It enumerates more of the 'sailing by committee" syndrome. Like the guy
said, "That's the way we do it around here." What horrifies me is people
like that actually believe it "takes a village." Worse yet is their
sensibilities are offended if you reject their village.

The bottom line is they are inept and they feel threatened by those who
display competence. In their way of thinking everybody should be happy
needing help from everybody else. It's to their advantage to view the
world that way since THEY can't get along without help from others.
Rather than change for the better they hope everybody else changes for
the worse.

Wilbur Hubbard

"Roger Long" wrote:

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.

I've had to insist that Bob explain to me exactly what he wants me to
do so that we are both on the same page. Because him yelling at me
halfway through doesn't work.

When someone 'helps' us, I try to bring them into the process by
telling them what we intend to do - many times by asking them to do
something specific for me. Sometimes I tell the person that Bob wants
me to do what he says for me to do (blaming it on him if I don't want
to take a line or whatever the helping person thinks I should do to
help him to help me).

If I know what he wants to accomplish and how he wants it done, I can
sometimes help when it doesn't play out exactly like he thought it
would by doing something that he hasn't told me to do. If we are
backing out, and I see that the bow is swinging the wrong way, and I
am on the bow with a boat hook (which I usually am), I can hook the
boathook on a piling and steady it up so that the stern goes where he
intended it to. He often doesn't realize what I've done or that I've
done anything because his attention is focused on the stern.

At least once, however, I've gotten the boathook hooked on something
and couldn't get it free -- lost the boathook. He didn't like that.
It was his favorite boathook.


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.

(Boy Rosalie, does that story about your fandango when the helper cast off
the line prematurely ever resonate.)

I've got one worse than that. We were casting off from the dock in
Nassau, and the dock helper person threw the line at me when I wasn't
expecting it, and it hit me in my nose and knocked my glasses off into
the harbor. I'm not quite blind without them, but I couldn't see
where they went. And I had to yell at Bob a couple of times to get
his attention so he would stop casting off from the stern.

We tied back up, and when the current stopped ripping through the
slip, the water became clear. I got my back-up glasses so I could
see. The glasses at the bottom of the harbor had automatic darkening
lenses, and the water was clear enough that the sun had darkened them
through 10 feet of water and we could see where they were. Bob went
up and got a long net from the swimming pool and fished them out.

"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

"Capt. JG" wrote in
:

Sometimes you just can't not get help.

You don't have to worry about it on our dock. Just come in 30 minutes
after the sun is under the yardarm and they're working on their 3rd or
4th single malt Scotch or Bloody Mary. Oh, they'll stagger off to watch,
and may chortle a bit if you screw up, but they're quite harmless.

"We're over on (party boat of the day here).", they'll tell you. "Come
on over after you've finished up." This means, just like getting to the
yacht club to find out your position and score after a race, you'll need
to drop by to get your landing score that's been decided in the half hour
after their retreat. I got a 9.1 out of them.....ONCE. They're a tough
bunch to get a good score out of. Anything over 5.5 is considered
excellent. Scores go up if you land it in a ripping tide.

Oh, if you're gone a while and come back to J Dock and find a couple of
brand new, first class docklines neatly tied to your boat, all coiled up
on the dock, just tell anyone to thank whoever did it. Everyone knows
who gave you two new docklines because he didn't like the chafed ones on
HIS dock, but noone will tell you who it was, anyway. The thanks will
get back to the right person.....

No boats sink with so many people looking after them......24/7/365.

You'll also find notes stuck to your hatch like:
"Your A/C outlet was only dribbling so we cleaned your strainer Friday."
Of course, this assumes you've left it unlocked so any electromechanical
problems can be taken care of when you were gone. Noone locks their
boats, just their liquor locker. Most don't lock that, either. You come
in and notice a quart of vodka is missing. Next weekend you come in and
find 3 quarts of vodka stowed back, creating a surplus in case anyone
else runs out of vodka in a "dock party emergency". I've found things
stowed I didn't even remember ever seeing before! Someone left 4 pints
of Boddington's English Ale in the fridge. Cap'n drinks Newcastle, so I
got hooked on Boddington's. That was 3 years ago! No telling where it
came from. I actually think if you left the boat for 2 months, you'd
come back and find the cabin stuffed with various chips and snacks. "Did
you bring these?", someone will ask me. "Nope. Never seen that kind,
before. Too expensive for me." The whole dock overflows with gourmet
foods from many "sources".

We'll just have to have another oyster roast or crab cookout next
Saturday night to get rid of some of this. (Any excuse for a massive
cookout will do. I bet there's every kind of massive crab cooker ever
invented stowed around there, somewhere.) We'll stop by the seafood
place and pick up 100# of oysters and some crabs Saturday at noon.
Donations cheerfully accepted. We got a dockbox full of gloves and
oyster knives, already.

Larry
--
Take your marina dockhands sailing.....

My opinion is that you should have accepted the help but worked around it...
not relying totally on mr friendly.

Now.? It looks like you have enemies. This could be very bad at a marina
where there is lots of drinking going on..{ you mentioned the drinking }

If next time you come down to your boat and the deck is covered in puke?


Or dead fish?



Oh Ohhhhh...


==========
"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.



(Boy Rosalie, does that story about your fandango when the helper cast off
the line prematurely ever resonate.)



--

Roger Long

On Aug 13, 12:57 am, Larry wrote:
"Capt. JG" wrote :

Sometimes you just can't not get help.

You don't have to worry about it on our dock. Just come in 30 minutes
after the sun is under the yardarm and they're working on their 3rd or
4th single malt Scotch or Bloody Mary. Oh, they'll stagger off to watch,
and may chortle a bit if you screw up, but they're quite harmless.

"We're over on (party boat of the day here).", they'll tell you. "Come
on over after you've finished up." This means, just like getting to the
yacht club to find out your position and score after a race, you'll need
to drop by to get your landing score that's been decided in the half hour
after their retreat. I got a 9.1 out of them.....ONCE. They're a tough
bunch to get a good score out of. Anything over 5.5 is considered
excellent. Scores go up if you land it in a ripping tide.

Oh, if you're gone a while and come back to J Dock and find a couple of
brand new, first class docklines neatly tied to your boat, all coiled up
on the dock, just tell anyone to thank whoever did it. Everyone knows
who gave you two new docklines because he didn't like the chafed ones on
HIS dock, but noone will tell you who it was, anyway. The thanks will
get back to the right person.....

No boats sink with so many people looking after them......24/7/365.

You'll also find notes stuck to your hatch like:
"Your A/C outlet was only dribbling so we cleaned your strainer Friday."
Of course, this assumes you've left it unlocked so any electromechanical
problems can be taken care of when you were gone. Noone locks their
boats, just their liquor locker. Most don't lock that, either. You come
in and notice a quart of vodka is missing. Next weekend you come in and
find 3 quarts of vodka stowed back, creating a surplus in case anyone
else runs out of vodka in a "dock party emergency". I've found things
stowed I didn't even remember ever seeing before! Someone left 4 pints
of Boddington's English Ale in the fridge. Cap'n drinks Newcastle, so I
got hooked on Boddington's. That was 3 years ago! No telling where it
came from. I actually think if you left the boat for 2 months, you'd
come back and find the cabin stuffed with various chips and snacks. "Did
you bring these?", someone will ask me. "Nope. Never seen that kind,
before. Too expensive for me." The whole dock overflows with gourmet
foods from many "sources".

We'll just have to have another oyster roast or crab cookout next
Saturday night to get rid of some of this. (Any excuse for a massive
cookout will do. I bet there's every kind of massive crab cooker ever
invented stowed around there, somewhere.) We'll stop by the seafood
place and pick up 100# of oysters and some crabs Saturday at noon.
Donations cheerfully accepted. We got a dockbox full of gloves and
oyster knives, already.

Larry
--
Take your marina dockhands sailing.....

Damn Larry...sounds like a nice place..where are you?

But the oysters might be a bit watery and weak this time of year
right?

Joe
Have the worlds best oyster knife... will travel

On Sun, 12 Aug 2007 21:06:01 -0400, "Roger Long"
wrote:


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.



(Boy Rosalie, does that story about your fandango when the helper cast off
the line prematurely ever resonate.)

who was it, h. g. wells, that once said 'why do you hate me...i
haven't done anything for you...?'

One of the most essential aspects of helping is, BEING ABLE TO TAKE A HINT!,
for crying out loud. It seems quite unfair that I'm going to be branded as
an asshole by this fellow and his dockmates just because he couldn't let it
go after three polite brush offs. At that level of communication, how is he
going to be able to help me dock?

And, he tried to stop the boat by pushing hard on the top of the lifeline
stanchion because he thought it should stop a couple feet earlier in the
slip than I did. Someday after I have time to pull major parts of the
interior out, the stanchion bases will be strong enough for this abuse but
I'm not there yet.

--
Roger Long

On Aug 13, 9:07 am, "Roger Long" wrote:
One of the most essential aspects of helping is, BEING ABLE TO TAKE A HINT!,
for crying out loud. It seems quite unfair that I'm going to be branded as
an asshole by this fellow and his dockmates just because he couldn't let it
go after three polite brush offs. At that level of communication, how is he
going to be able to help me dock?

And, he tried to stop the boat by pushing hard on the top of the lifeline
stanchion because he thought it should stop a couple feet earlier in the
slip than I did. Someday after I have time to pull major parts of the
interior out, the stanchion bases will be strong enough for this abuse but
I'm not there yet.

--
Roger Long

I have to agree with others Roger, you hurt the fellows feelings and
he's going to make sure everyone on the dock knows how you dis'ed
him.

The proper thing to do is train your crew to instruct dock helpers
and warn them of things they can do wrong. Send the guy to the stern..
or better yet to the other side to catch the last line your tossing.
Then offer the guy a cold beer and send him on his way. IMO it's
better to have a person on the dock offering help then to not have one
when you really need one. Had he snapped off your weak lifeline
stanchions it might have been a blessing in disquise. Rather have him
rip it off it at the dock, than some big clumsey teen doing it at sea
as he goes over the side.

Joe