44 13.84 N 073 1.04 W
Last night in Vergennes we had another day surrounded by Quebecois. This time it was a very nice experience. This group of Quebecois were friendly, and helpful, and could manage with English. Among them were two we consider dear friends, Pierre and Christina aboard the steel vessel "Anvil of the Sea" They, and a teenage guest they had on board joined us for dinner last night. We all had a great time.
We also had a friendly Quebecois couple rafted up with us. Their boat was roughly the same size as Tarwathie.
This morning, Libby was on shore and I was puttering when the captain of the rafted boat came and said, "We are going to leave now, can you help us?" "Sure," I said. As I was helping him remove the lines I began to get uneasy. You see, there had been rain yesterday and overnight the level of water int he creek rose and the current this morning was swift. As we untied his lines, I was puzzled at first why his boat did not drift away at once. Then I understood, we sat at an angle to the current and it was pushing his boat onto mine. I briefly considered asking that captain to retie the lines and rethink his plan.
It was a disaster. He was tied with his stern facing the current; (something a experienced skipper would never do, but yesterday there was no current). To leave and to power himself away from Tarwathie would mean that his stern would have to swing even harder against me. It did. I scrambled to push him away but his davit-hung dinghy scraped all along the side of Tarwathie. Fortunately it did no damage. Unfortunately, it prevented his boat from turning out away from the docks. Downstream from me were four other Quebec sailboats. One, then another, then two more rafted together. He scraped along the side of the first of these, then the next, then he slammed into the sterns of the last two.
Pandemonium ensued as the women aboard all those boats panicked and started screaming for help. The men, who had been conferring on shore, came running and so did I. There was lots of shouting in French. I held my tongue -- being shouted at in two languages would not help. After 3-4 back and forth tries, we managed to push that boat out enough so that he could back away. No serious damage resulted, but those four boat owners were plenty steamed.
In retrospect, I now realize that the other boat's situation was hopeless. With his stern to the current, and with the angle of the current and the docks, there was no safe way for him to depart at at all. He could not have succeeded no matter what. Should I have warned him? I could have asked him to describe his plan, and in discussions of strategy it might have evolved that "abandon your plan for leaving right now" was best.
Also in retrospect I remembered that all of these lake sailors were like Libby and I prior to 2005. They may have many years sailing experience but have never navigated their boats in swift currents. Skippers facing that for the first time tend to be caught unaware and act bewildered because their familiar boat is not behaving in the accustomed way.
That brings up the delicate balance. The captain of a vessel is indisputably in command. He must not be questioned nor disputed. On airplanes, after some prominent crashes, they evolved a protocol called Cockpit Resource Management (CRM), that encourages the copilot to politely question and even respectfully dispute what the captain said --- that's his job. CRM however does not apply to bystanders or passengers; even if those others may have superior knowledge.
On Tarwathie I had to remind Libby of that several times after tense times coming in to and out of docks. People on shore tend to shout "Do this. Do that." The captain may or may not appreciate their advice, but the crew must never ever do what the bystanders say instead of what the captain told them to do. If the crew doesn't obey the captain, then they are no longer working as a team.
So, although airplanes have CRM, the protocol around boats near docks is undeveloped and unspoken. I always hesitate before offering advice to another captain, and frequently that very hesitation decides in favor of silence. Out in open water there is more time to think and to apply verbal diplomacy to feel out the other captain's receptivity. In and around docks, things go bad in seconds, and even receptive captains need a few seconds to mull over shouted advice.
To be sure, if someone were about to be killed or injured I would not hesitate to shout STOP! However, when the danger is just to other people's property, I hesitate to do so.
If any readers have advice on how to resolve this delicate balance, I'd love to hear it.
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Like you, I rarely, if ever offer unasked for advice. On this occasion, though, I may have offered a suggestion because the conditions were unusual.
ReplyDeleteThe pressure on a boat caused by current is much, much more than that of wind. There is no way for a few people to handle that size boat in a swift current. The only tool he had was his motor. I would have tried a spring line from his stern to your midships and have him put the boat in reverse and gun it to see if the bow would move out, away from your boat. If so, he could have cast off all lines and then manuvered out. If not, stay put.
That being said, Vergennes is pretty tight. Four boats rafted together must have taken up most of the channel. They deserve some of the blame, I think.