By Langston “South” Fulweiler
Editor’s note: A favorite WindCheck feature is John K. Fulweiler, Esq.’s monthly column; invariably informative, incisive and witty. The Boating Barrister’s daughter checks in for Dad this month with a valuable seamanship lesson…and with words like “intentionality” in her lexicon (at 17!), she’s welcome to pen this page any time.
“Everything has a place, and everything in its place” was a phrase I grew up resenting. With a nautical New England family, the expression was repeated to me like a prayer, and chimed irksomely in my mind whenever I left my colored pencils scattered across the dining room table or my rain boots in front of the doorway. I meandered through childhood with a tendency towards clutter and an air of carelessness that never hindered me as everyone seemed to think it would!
Still, looking back now with a slightly more worldly set of seventeen-year-old eyes, I can confidently say I am a much more detail-oriented person today than I was, and I attribute this change completely to my experience as a sailor.
My father, who usually writes this column but insisted I step in for this edition (partly due to an unfortunate series of events beginning with an inflatable and a dropped bowline and a surprising Sunday swim), has always pressed on me the importance of orderliness, especially on the water. Boating mishaps are rarely caused by one slip-up but rather a small mistake left unnoticed that snowballs into a much larger issue. As someone who has experienced their fair share of marine misadventures, I’ve discovered that intentionality and attention are crucial when sailing.
A couple of summers back, I was sailing as crew offshore on a voyage from Bermuda to Spain. The boat’s captain laid out rules for us which included the rule that nothing can be left out because, as I’d heard all my life, everything has a place. Unstowed journals or spray gear gathered next to your bunk would result in a harsh reprimand. With the upbringing of an only child raised by two lawyer parents, I initially chafed at these stowage rules.
One early morning brought terrifying weather. The waves and wind were past the point of simple discomfort and had reached frightening level. We were sailing downwind, and the following seas sent us jockeying, stern over bow, towards a distant light nestled in the cliffs of the Azores. I’d gone below to check the bilge and write the log entry for my watch when that saying “everything has a place, everything in its place” finally hit me. It physically hit me.
On the floor were two loose lifejackets, slipping back and forth with the boat’s motion. The sailboat lurched like a wounded animal, throwing me forwards. As I tried to catch my balance, one lifejacket tripped me, throwing me into another crew. We both went rolling across a tilted cabin sole. Aside from some bruises we were okay, but it made me reflect on what Dad has always said about incidents while boating— it’s never just one factor.
If I had hit my head, which could have very easily happened, we were so far offshore that getting medical attention would’ve been nearly impossible. And it was simply because the lifejackets weren’t hung up on the rack like they were supposed to be!
Good seamanship is hinged to detail. When I was little sailing an Opti, I once had my entire sail collapse because one sail tie wasn’t properly secured. Later, in a 420 regatta, I recall bumping another competitor in a benign way, but because of a loose pin on the side stay, it got serious when our mast fell down. On another occasion, using old bungee cord on my Laser rather than replacing it meant my centerboard kept popping up, causing me to capsize at every windward mark.
In my experience, some of the most detail-oriented people I’ve met are sailors. At some point in honing our seamanship skills, we realize the danger of carelessness in an environment heavy with risk. I work a summer job at Sail-to-Prevail, an organization that offers people with disabilities an opportunity to go sailing. I spend every day on the water watching the wind, avoiding vessel traffic, tying knots, coiling line and hoisting sails. It’s the kind of sailing I’ve done since I was a little kid, learning to overcome the beast that is Narragansett Bay’s summer sea breeze.
When I take my place at the helm of a Sail-to-Prevail boat, I immediately put my radio beside me, hooked to the metal part of the traveler. My water bottle is stowed in one of the decking grooves in the cockpit and my phone fits neatly next to me. If the waves get rough, I know that nothing will slide around and create chaos because everything has a place and everything is in its place.
As my father says, underway and making way.
Langston “South” Fulweiler is the daughter of John Fulweiler, The Boating Barrister. An avid sailor and a U.S. Sailing Level 1 Instructor, she’s also passionate about writing. Senior year at the St. George’s School will see South helming the school newspaper as Editor-In-Chief.
