But then a man came along who
consistently beat me. Peter Ashwell became my nemesis. It was a frustrating
thing: he didn’t seem to be sailing any faster than me, but somehow he was
always ahead at the finish.
One day, at a barbecue on the beach
after a race, he explained my problem.
“You lack disparate attention. You can’t concentrate on more than one
thing at a time,” he said. “You’re good at tactics but you’re missing out on
strategy.”
I was naturally insulted, and went
off in a sulk to think about it. But eventually I discovered he was right. I
used to concentrate solely on making the boat go faster. On the beat, I would
watch the jib like a hawk. I mean, it was fierce concentration. I actually got
to the stage where I could anticipate it was going to flutter at the luff, and
react so quickly on the tiller that it never got a chance to luff at all.
Meanwhile, I had no idea what the rest of the fleet was doing or what subtle
changes were taking place with wind speed and direction. Inevitably, I lost
ground when wind switches favored my opponents or I accidentally found myself
in a lee-bow position. And then I would have to concentrate even harder to go
faster.
Peter and I eventually become good
friends. His diagnosis of my problem
would be described today as an inability to multi-task. I’ve never been any
good at it. My poor brain can’t handle
more than one task at a time if it’s going to do a decent job.
Peter explained the difference between
strategy and tactics.
“You’re going to out to win the
race,” he said. “What’s the strategy? Well, the southwesterly wind looks like
it’s dying, and if it does the likelihood is that a new wind will fill in from
the east, so we want to position ourselves over toward the eastern side of the
course while we can still get there.
Then we’ll be in a position to reach to the next mark, rather than have
to beat. That’s the first strategy. There might be others as the race
progresses.
“As for tactics: don’t pinch in this light wind, foot it.
Don’t sheet the main in hard. Loosen the mainsail luff until small crinkles
appear. Loosen the foot until the deepest chord is well aft. Keep still. Keep
the boat upright. Watch the jib.”
I never solved my particular problem.
I’m still no good at multi-tasking. I’m still all tactics and no strategy. But
I did realize, eventually, the difference between winning a war (strategy) and
winning individual battles (tactics). I
also realized that you can give your crew the task of watching for wind shifts
and other boats coming toward you on starboard tack while you concentrate like
hell on pointing high and making the boat go fast. And after that breakthrough
we gave Peter much more of a run for his money.
Today’s
Thought
Not
to the swift, the race:Not to the strong, the fight:
Not to the righteous, perfect grace:
Not to the wise, the light.
But
often faltering feet
Come
surest to the goal;And they who walk in darkness meet
The sunrise of the soul.
— Henry van Dyke, Reliance
Tailpiece
“It’s easy to identify the person
who thinks a great deal of himself. His I’s are always too close together.”
(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday,
Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
No comments:
Post a Comment