Women at the Helm
My first experience piloting our boat was driven mainly by a stubborn determination to show my husband that it couldn’t possibly be that difficult.
After all, I had come of age during the women’s liberation movement. I knew that I could have it all and do it all, including drive our new 26-foot express cruiser. I’d been driving automobiles for almost 30 years. Surely I could do this.
Not long into my first trip as captain, I turned to my husband and with boasting indignation said, “I can do this, thank you very much!” As I did,
our new boat promptly left the channel and ran aground on a sand bar.
The story is still a family favorite. Fortunately, its sting has been tempered by time, a boating safety course and many hours at the helm. I have also become an accomplished navigator. In the days before we acquired a GPS system, I learned how to get us home under cover of darkness with a chart and compass.
And then we got a new boat – a 41-foot Maxum sedan with a fly bridge. With fuel and gear, it’s about four times heavier than the express cruiser. There are so many more systems to be mindful of; so many more things to be done before you can even start the engines.
I was intimidated by this boat, named Summer Breeze. We bought it in the summer of 2005. I didn’t try to drive it until the summer of 2006. I knew that I needed to learn how to handle it, but I kept putting it off. I kept making excuses for why this day or that day wasn’t a good day for me to practice.
One of the biggest challenges for me was conceptualizing how the gears should be positioned to move the boat. The 26-footer, also named Summer Breeze, was a single-engine boat and the gears were integrated with the throttle, which made it easy for me to maneuver. I just wasn’t getting how the gears worked with the twin engines on the new Summer Breeze.
Then one day, a friend gave me a tip. She said, “Think of the gears as a steering wheel,” and Voila! I got it. When I put my hands on the gears now, I imagine myself steering my car. I use that image whether I’m making turns in forward motion or pivots going in reverse. South in Friendship, Md., about 30 miles southeast of Washington, DC, to the Hyatt River Marsh Marina in Cambridge, on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. It was not the best day for the 25-mile maiden voyage. The Chesapeake Bay was rough, with swells of at least two-to-three feet, and it was raining, but I persevered. I came out of our slip and through the jetty at Herrington Harbour without hitting the rocks or another boat. I was well on my way to marker #83, just outside Herring Bay, when I realized that things weren’t going to get any better. My husband offered to take over, but we had planned this trip for weeks and, after a long pause, I took a deep breath and said, “No, I can do this,” not thinking about the fact that I had uttered the very same words at the beginning of my ill-fated first experience with the old Summer Breeze.
I’ll be honest. I wanted to burst into tears several times along the way, with waves breaking across the bow and the boat charging through each swell. But this time, my stubborn determination actually helped me. Not only could I do this, I was going to do it.
When we arrived at River Marsh Marina, the sun was shining. The dock hands were so surprised that a woman was at the helm that they forgot to help my husband with the lines.
And you, my fellow first mates, can do it too. Boating safety courses like the one I completed do little to prepare you for what it feels like to actually handle a boat. Driving these vessels is not very easy. Not only do you have to get a feel for the tonnage under you, you have to take into account wind and current, in addition to any propulsion you may be giving the boat. And, of course, there are no brakes!
Despite these challenges, being able to han- dle your boat is a must for every first mate. Now, don’t get me wrong — my husband is the captain of my ship, and I prefer that he drives. But anything can happen, and knowing where you are, and how to get home or get to safety if you have to is extremely important. It’s also a great source of fun, not to mention the sense of accomplishment that comes with being able to walk to the helm of your boat, grab the throttle and say, “I can do this,” and know it to be true.
