BOYS AND THEIR TOYS

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BOAT

BOYS AND THEIR TOYS

They say Christopher Columbus made his voyage to the New World
with just some ships, a compass, and the stars.

No Way! He was a guy, after all.

"Honey, next time you go down.. . . ."
What follows is usually a plea for something necessary to sustaining life
as we know it.. .like a beer. And "next time you go downn means within the next
30 seconds, please.

When I look up from my once again interrupted novel, the cap'n pleads,
"I would but I'm driving the boat."

As I descend the companionway, I look back at the cap'n. Yep, he's
behind the helm, alright. His eyes are busily scanning. Only one thing's missing
in this little scenario. His hands aren't on the helm. That's right, he's not really
driving the boat. Otto, our trusty autopilot is responsible for the steering of this
boat because the cap'n has become much too busy for even this task.

In response to my profane mumble he explains, "Someone has to be on lookout. Oh, and while you're down there. .. ."

As I finally start to arise from the companionway, I do a quick scan of the
horizon. As suspected, not a boat in sight. Just to confirm this, I confer with the
brand new radar, you know the one that sounds an alarm should anything even
think about coming close to your boat. The radar concurs. There's not a darn
thing out there. Which brings me to my point.

What the hell do they stare at all day? Lots of things actually. Did I say he was scanning the ocean or the sky? No. Instead he is scanning multiple neon electronic screens. I don't want to
mislead you, the cap'n still believes that even with all the modern gadgets, sailing
still requires constant vigilance. After all, it takes constant searching for markers
and buoys just to convince the male brain that the GPS really does know where
we are. The funniest thing is the cap'n continues to be incredulous every time
it's right. Which, luckily, is pretty often. But the cap'n remains skeptical.
So now tucked into the corner of the cockpit is the laptop computer with a
display strikingly similar to the one on the GPS. There's that little boat thing
following the little line thing. "Honey, "zoom in" on the computer," comes the command from the cap'n who is seemingly encased behind some invisible shield that prevents him from
moving from behind the helm. Or maybe it's just all the stuff crowding the
cockpit that keeps him imprisoned.

The computer and the GPS agree about our lattitude and longitude but
the cap'n is still not convinced. So just to make sure he consults the paper
charts strewn about the cockpit. "I'll be damned, they're right!" he exclaims.
Boating used to be so simple. I remember when we were thrilled and,
admittedly, sometimes surprised to reach our planned destination with just paper
charts and a compass. Later our little handheld GPS became a reassuring
addition. Then things kind of snowballed. When we bought our own boat we
bought a bigger GPS, even though the boat had it's own and by that time we had
acquired a total of three handhelds. (Don't ask me how that happened. I don't
understand it myself). Our new boat also had a radar, which we never had
before. It never really worked that well but at least we did wait until that one
cratered before we bought a new one. Still the cap'n hauled the old one around
on our deck (I wouldn't let him bring it down below) for a month, convinced that it
had some value or could be used for spare parts. It took three uninterested
dealers for him to be convinced that the only job it was suitable for was as an
anchor.

Our latest navigational aid venture, but I assure you, not our last, is
computerized charts. Of course this wasn't really the cap'ns doing. It seems
one of our friends forced him to download all of these charts on to our laptop
(which was primarily put on board for my use), and use up all our hard drive
space. So now sailing has become a quagmire of navigational aid consultations.
Long before time to set sail, the cap'n plots and plans and plugs in waypoints.
Constantly checking, consulting, comparing, and rechecking. All to make our life
a little easier he says. Ahhh.. . Sympathy stirs for the poor cap'n beleagured by
all of this. But then, just as my foot hits the top rung of the companionway ladder.. .
"Honey, before you come up.. . ."