The Disease Called Cruising
9. Points in the Black Box
ON EVERY boat there’s a little black
box. You can’t see it, but it’s there all the same. It’s full of points that
help you get out of trouble. At least, it should
be full of points.
Every time you do something
seamanlike, a point goes into the black box. Every time you whip a rope-end
instead of leaving it to flap itself to fluff in the breeze, you earn a point.
Every time you study the chart before entering a strange port; every time you
climb the mast to check the topmast fittings; every time you remember to use
the bilge blower before you start the motor, the points pile up in the black
box.
At sea, the system starts to work
two ways. Firstly, you can continue to stuff points into the box (it accepts an
infinite number) by taking seamanlike actions — say, by reefing the mainsail after
you hear a gale warning on the weather forecast, or by putting on your safety
harness every time you come on watch.
Secondly, you can start to draw on your account.
In all small-boat voyaging there is
an element of risk that cannot be eliminated. Indeed, it is the lure of danger
(and overcoming it) that attracts many to the sport. Inevitably, therefore,
there will be times when the ship and her crew are in danger to some degree,
despite all the precautions you might take.
This is when the points start
expending themselves. You have no control over when and where they’re spent.
But they know when they’re needed.
When horror is rife, when the mast is crashing down around your ears, those
chips come rushing out of the black box to fight on your behalf.
But they have to be available. You
must have earned them in the first place.
That’s why some boats and some
sailors survive gales and capsizes when others don’t. Some boats will go
aground on the only rock for miles around. Others will happily blunder through
a maze of reefs.
Some people have a name for it, a
four-letter word ending with u-c-k. But
on our boat we don’t believe in l-*-*-* and we never pin our hopes on it. We
try, instead, to earn points for our black box. We know that if misfortune
catches us with an empty box we’re in trouble. Fate allows no overdrafts.
So there’s really no need to wonder
why some people and some boats seem to be treated by Fate more kindly than
others. It all depends on how much you’ve got in your black box.
Incidentally, you can never tell
exactly how much credit you’ve earned, so you can never relax completely. If
you examine your conscience you will have a fair idea of how full your black
box is, but to be sure of having enough points you must keep learning the ways
of the sea, and the way of a ship in the sea. And you must keep putting your
knowledge to practice.
In other words: Look after your
ship, and she’ll look after you.
Today’s
Thought
Let
your loins be girded about, and your lights burning.
—
New Testament: Luke xii, 35
Tailpiece
“Why
has your dog got such a flat nose?”“He keeps chasing parked cars.”
(Drop
by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
John, does varnishing put points in the "Black Box"? Because if it does, I believe it should earn bonus points.
ReplyDeleteEvery time I varnish I feel like a fool. Maybe it works as the saying, "God looks after fools and children".
biglilwave, lavishing any kind of love and care on your boat earns you points for your black box. Varnishing certainly helps because it gets you closer to the fabric of your boat and helps you discover rot or damage or missing bits before these things become dangerous. Varnishing is also good for your soul and makes you patient and thorough -- two very good traits of the accomplished seaman.
ReplyDeleteJohn V.
I just found your blog... stellar work! I think your "black box" idea will work outside of sailing too. Fortune may favor the bold, but has a soft spot for the prepared.
ReplyDelete