This is not intended to be a "troll". It is simply a true story that took
place in the summer of '97...
Four boats, four good friends and their families spent two full weeks
cruising the inland passage (between the mainland and Vancouver Island), the
Canadian Gulf Islands and the US San Juans. It came to pass that, toward the
end of the cruise, it was time for a civilized stop at a port offering
provisions, laundry, two-bit showers and cheeseburgers. Thus our little
flotilla ended up at Friday Harbor, the main city in the San Juans.
Being mid-week it only took an hour or so for the harbormaster to find 4
adjacent slips and before long we were securely moored; two boats (stern in)
on the north and two on the south side of the pier directly opposite.
Perfect for us to recount our adventures, monitor the steamer (we had a
dozen or so Dungeness Crab) and turn the "cocktail lamp" on.
That's when we saw the sailboat.
Now, I have no particular issue with sailboats and consider them fellow
boaters...except when you get the occasional JERK. This fellow, his wife and
shivering little rat-dog, arrived to take the slip next to our little group.
As we ALWAYS do, several of us walked over to help with lines, keep him from
bumping the dock and generally assist until he could set his fenders and
secure his boat to his liking. In my experience this is the time that most
boaters say "Thanks" and begin a conversation about where you've been, where
you're from, where you're going etc. Not this dude. Our "could-have-been"
buddy proceeded to berate his wife for tossing us lines and told us in
no-uncertain-terms that he was perfectly capable of docking his own boat.
We, of course, retired to our own boats and left them to their chores.
Not long after they were secured, my friend Mark (who I could see was
miffed) asked me to join him on his boat (he was moored next to this
gentleman and within easy hearing) for***tails and conversation.
The conversation was as follows:
Mark(M): So Pat(P), have you calculated your OWS for your boat?
M: Your Optimum Wake Speed.
P: You mean where I kick up the biggest wake?
M: Yup. Mine's about 2500 RPM
P: On my boat 2000 is just before I hit a plane and that's about the max.
M: Well tomorrow we need to look for two sailboats rafted together. I'll
pass them close to port at my OWS and get the left boat rocking. You pass
them to starboard about 10 seconds or so later.
M: Sure. See, if you're at your OWS and pass at just the right time we will
have those sailboats rocking exactly opposite each other! If we're really
lucky we'll get them to hook their spreaders together at the top! You can
get points for that!
P: Cool. How many points?
M: Doesn't matter. What's really cool is that you get a score. You have the
right to put a little sailboat decal on your flybridge.
P: Really? You mean that if I get five, I could be an "ACE"?
M: You bet! It's hard though. Some times you just***'em off.
Our (could-have-been) buddy didn't even finish his dinner before he headed
for the dockmaster. Wasn't 20 minutes before he, his wife and the rat-dog,
left for a different slip.
Of course I've never really done such a deed (nor would I) but it was fun
tugging on this guy's chain.
That's my story and I'm sticking by it.