Incompetent Crew - Your Scariest Moment?

Buddy Melges won an Olympic Gold and Bronze and five world championships. He did not believe in telling crew when he was about to tack. In his opinion, they ought to be concentrating on the balance and movement of the boat and if they were, it would be obvious that he was about to tack. Chatter was unnecessary.

I do try and give crew notice but sometimes in big fleets, as a helm you just have to seize the moment when an opportunity opens up. I once had a new crew member along who claimed vast prior racing experience. Prestart in a fleet of around 30 and a minute or so before the gun, we were sailing just below the line on port looking for a hole to tack into. One appeared, I just said "tacking" and put the boat into the gap. "Can I have more notice next time?" she said. That made it obvious that all that prior experience she claimed was a big fib, as anyone who had done a lot of racing would have understood what was about to happen and been prepared for it. Nor would an experienced crew distract the helm with a comment that could wait until later in the final seconds before the gun.

I'll describe an incident I'm not proud of one bit.

It's Salcombe Merlin Week. My crew for the week is a skinny 17 year old lad who mostly sails keelboats and last sailed a dinghy a year ago. I've also mostly been helming keelboats lately. It is a hot sunny day in July and Shadeycombe car park is, as usual, well sheltered. The plan is to rig the boat and sail the half mile downriver to Mill Bay where the Merlins "park" for the week.

Crew is in shorts and T-shirt and has forgotten his buoyancy aid.  I've lined up someone to take my trolley over to Mill Bay in a powerboat and they are anxious to get going. What the heck, it is a sunny day, light breeze and we'll only be on the water 10 minutes.

Once in the middle of the estuary, I realise it is blowing F5. We are both out of practice so over we go. We struggle to right the boat. The tide is zipping up the estuary and I'm concerned we are going to get tangled with one of many moored boats. Crew is clearly getting very cold faster than I'd believe possible. We finally get the boat upright, and he is shivering violently. At that point, another observant Merlin sailor arrives in a powerboat. We sail to the beach and he whizzes my crew back to the car-park while I hold the boat, then he returns to tow me, feeling very chastened, over to Mill Bay.

We lived to tell the tale, enjoyed our week and finished mid-fleet. But it was quite close to going very horribly wrong.  It really brought it home to me that as helm, I needed to take the safety of my crew seriously, especially if they are not quite an adult yet. I should have made him go home for his bouyancy aid.

Think it couldn't happen to you? You might be right. On the other hand I'd been sailing for 15 years at that point without anything similar happening. Be careful out there.