Shelter Island Reporter Column: Over-steering … in sailing and in life
“Would you like to take the helm?” I ask at some point in the sail.
Taking non-sailors on Sachem, a 38-foot Maine-built boat, is a particular joy. Seeing how they react to the wind, waves and the sails fascinates me. Some newbies express excitement and a bit of wonder, others hesitation and concern. The latter is often voiced as questions about tipping over.
So, depending on their age and my perception of their comfort level, while factoring in the wind and sea state, I offer my guests the chance to steer the boat.
This offer is preceded by the most elementary explanation about wind direction and how it affects the shape of the sails and the resultant course of the boat. Since the wind is invisible, there is a somewhat magical element needed to understand the dynamics of sailboat motion, but I try to demystify it as much as possible … sailing should be fun, not intimidating.
Whether my offer is taken with trepidation or enthusiasm, the first-time steerer is instructed to “hold the course.” Therein lies the challenge. Due to the physics of wind and sail shape, sailboats want to come into the wind, the nautical term is “round up.” Thus the goal of the steerer is to hold the boat “down” by turning the wheel against the force of the wind.
However, it’s easy to overcompensate and turn the boat so far away from the wind that it no longer is on course. At this point, I gently advise them to steer back into the wind. In responding to my request the steerer often uses more force than necessary, causing the boat to come too close to the wind and the sails become useless. They flap around and the boat motion slows.
Now the steerer has to repeat the previous instructions and steer away from the wind. If not done properly, once again the course is changed and the boat slowed.
Sadly, this can go on for way too long. The boat becomes a metronome, uncontrollably lurching back and forth, frustrating everyone else on board, and sometimes inducing a bit of seasickness. Then, with attempted delicate aplomb, I ask to take the helm back and reassure the newbie that they did great, but the wind is tricky and it takes a lot of practice to get it right.
A few guests quickly develop the instinct and keep the course for quite a while. One never knows who that will be. It is age and gender indifferent. When this happens, smiles break out and it seems the day is brighter.
When I reflect on the phenomenon of over-steering, other examples come to mind because much of life mirrors the action. Personally and nationally, we seem to go from one extreme to the other. We binge drink in December and repent with Dry January. We overeat with resultant obesity then inject ourselves with nausea-inducing drugs. We spray toxic pesticides on our lawns and then have No Mow May. We overspend on credit cards then announce participation in Buy Nothing Day.
We elect leaders from one extreme and then are shocked when the opposing party offers up an answer that is the polar opposite, like in Latin America. Even the fiscal watchdogs of our money supply lurch from one extreme policy to another, always trying to find some balance and steady the ship of finance.
All this has thankfully given me some patience for my guest helms-people. After all, if most people and institutions can’t keep a true course, why would anyone expect a newbie helms-person to steer straight?
