A gentle giant teaches the patience a good skipper needs
Issue 36 : May/Jun 2004
I bought my first sailboat more than 20 years ago, not knowing how little I really knew about sailing, let alone what skills it would take to become a competent skipper. Since then, with every subsequent year, I have honed a skill, learned something new, developed a deeper respect for a particular aspect of the sport, and . . . the list goes on. While a few formal classes and numerous sailing books and periodicals, combined with hands-on experiences, comprise the bulk of my sailing education, I owe a lot to one individual. In his subtle, unpretentious way he has been a constant teacher of what it takes to be a competent skipper. His name is Kevin.
Kevin has only been sailing for a handful of years, but when he’s aboard he teaches me lessons that are usually indelibly imprinted in my brain. He never takes the role of skipper, preferring to crew or just to be a passenger and watch the cruise unfold. He never raises his voice in command nor does he question authority aboard. He does, however, insist on knowing what every line is for and how it works, encourages the use of correct nautical terminology, quickly responds to improper sail trim or point of sail, and is uniquely in tune with the overall sailing comfort of crew and passengers.
How does he do this? Mostly by body language, an occasional questioning look, or a subtle change in his demeanor. When a situation warrants, he may speak up, but he usually waits for a question to be posed before he responds. One thing for sure, to learn in this environment one needs to develop patience. And isn’t patience what it takes to become a good skipper?
Kevin is my son. He’s 22 years old, 6 feet tall, and weighs over 200 pounds. He is gregarious, outgoing, and looks like a linebacker. Unfortunately, at birth he suffered irreparable brain damage that has left him mentally locked in at 7 years old. Kevin’s disability is a fact, and life goes on. I don’t dwell on what might have been, but I am thankful for the lesson of patience that he teaches me. I wasn’t born with patience and as of yet haven’t mastered it, but I know this gentle giant will always be there with another lesson. Thanks, Kevin.
Thank you to Sailrite Enterprises, Inc., for providing free access to back issues of Good Old Boat through intellectual property rights. Sailrite.com
