One of the lessons I've learned as a skipper is that when it comes to decision making I need to trust my instincts - and not be swayed by unconscious pressure from the crew.
When you're starting out, it's sometimes easy to be swayed, especially if you think one of the crew might have more experience than you. Once, as a fairly new skipper coming into Portsmouth, I decided to drop sails in the Swashway and motor in.
I reasoned that in fairly strong winds, and in a busy harbour, the last thing commercial shipping would need was a yacht heading into wind in the busy entrance to the harbour for five minutes whilst the crew got the sails sorted out. Especially as head to wind might mean crossing the main channel, for which permission is technically required.
Passing on my intentions to the helmsman, I got a distinctly sniffy response. It seemed that he always sailed in. The implication was plain. I was too much of a novice, or lacked the chutzpah of a seasoned yachtsman. Besides, he told me, if I went up into Gosport then turned into wind there'd be masses of room.
There's something about bravura that gets you, and I gave in. OK, I said. You take her in. I insisted that we motor-sailed through the entrance - obeying the rules for the small ship channel - and duly turned downwind towards Gosport to get room to turn head to wind without crossing the entrance. At which point the helmsman managed a rather uncontrolled gybe.
Thankfully, no-one was injured, but I was more than a little irritated. I thought he was used to this. It took us a few minutes to recover our dignity, as well as check for damage - human and rigging - by which time we were running out of room.
The helmsman swung her up into wind without so much as a warning, and with sails flogging, the rest of the crew were taken by surprise, and no one was in the right place to start dropping sails.
By now I was cross - mostly with myself for giving in to the pressure - but thought we might as well get on with it. One of the more thoughtful crew had made it to the mast, put tension on the topping lift, and prepared to drop. By which time we were heading across the main channel and causing more than a few yachts to change course to avoid us.
We finally got the sails down without anyone hitting us, and motored our chartered yacht back to her berth. At which point I got a distinctly frosty greeting from the charter manager. “You let them sails flog rather a lot. Not good. Not good at all.”
I totally agreed with him, but could hardly blame my crew: I was the skipper. It still hurts when I remember what a complete horlicks I made of that entry.
The point in recounting this minor incident is that it's a good illustration of how, in hindsight, I should have stuck to my guns. I was the skipper, but my inexperience caught me out - not because I made the wrong decision initially, but because I allowed myself to be wound up by the supposed greater experience of a member of the crew.
As a skipper, you'll almost certainly experience that pressure in all sorts of situations. There's nothing wrong in listening to your crew, and even putting their suggestions to the test. But if you're the skipper, you are in command, and in command you have to stay.
There's a world of difference between encouraging a crew member to test out an idea whilst you stay fully in charge, and letting that same crew member goad you into an action your instinct, or better judgement, suggests is mistaken.
The fundamental art and skill of skippering is to remember who is in charge.
Richard Thomas holds a Commercially Endorsed RYA Yachtmaster and Cruising Instructor (Sail) certificate. He runs his own delivery business, www.yachtmovers.co.uk
He is available for deliveries, assisted passages, own-yacht tuition, and yacht management.
