July 2003

By Tom Snyder

There’s a fun, new language in the airI recently wrote a column for this magazine trying to update and to render politically correct the traditional vernacular of seamen. In it I mentioned body parts and I am sorry, because I crossed a line. In my defense however, for every reader whom I offended there were two who regularly skip my column anyway.

Now I would like to address the language of the sea once again, this time in the hopes of offending a much smaller cross-section of readers. That is the least I can do, and it is my way of giving something back.

There is a new language of boating emerging from the yachting capitols of the world. Let’s take a look first at its history. Over the last two decades, a critical mass of “new economy” executives suddenly had the wherewithal to purchase impressive boats. These guys were all fast learners (self-starters), and to the world of boating they brought the same confidence, style and can-do attitude that they brought to their Pet Psychopharmacology Home Delivery Web Site startups.

The upside of this development is that the earthy, bodily, intemperate language of the sea has been replaced with the new colorful, affirming speech of business schools (with one exception which will contain its own warning). Unfortunately, all of these “new economy” executive/sailors are gone now, some in hiding, some in Aspen and some in minimum security. But their language will continue of its own weight, like a Creole tongue that survives because that’s what languages do.

The following transcribed excerpt was illegally recorded at a marina. The location of that marina is unimportant and would only be distracting if it were to be divulged. Anyway, one captain was telling another about his recent passage from Marblehead to Manchester by the Sea for lunch.

Here are some telling examples of how we will all soon be talking about our experiences on the water:

About the weather

“Before we left this morning I checked NOAA to see what our opportunity space was. Turns out the sky was supposed to be clear, which was not mission-critical because we had sun block. I was more concerned about big waves so I drilled down into the knowledge base and listened to the entire weather report.”

About sailing

“Off Halfway Rock I decided to think outside the box, so I put up the staysail. With a headsail already up, the value proposition is not clear. Of course there’s more sail area, but who knows if it’s scalable or if there are synergies between two headsails? At the end of the day, I think if the wind is under 10 knots, it’s deselective of adding more canvas.

About anchoring or docking for lunch

“I anchored outside of the harbor. I had planned to grab a slip for lunch. The guy at the dock in Manchester asked how long my boat was so he could monetize my stay. Fair enough. I told him 32 feet and he says that net-net he doubts it. I see him looking at my swim platform and I’m not about to lift my kimono and tell him my boat is 34 feet overall. Plus, I’m thinking that if I get into bed with a marina and the wind changes to on-shore, then we’re looking at a more complex exit strategy.” (Ooops. I forgot a warning.)

About rules of the road

“Sailing home we had a moment! This guy I know is crossing my bow on port tack and he clearly sees me. I don’t have the bandwidth to get all upset and start yelling “starboard.” I figured we’re both incented stakeholders and he’ll come around. But then it occurs to me that with drinks all served in the cockpit, I am poorly leveraged for any sudden moves, so I did the proactive thing and called him on his cell phone.”

It really is a delightful way of talking, isn’t it? To some it may seem new and awkward, but don’t resist it. The French tried for 50 years to criminalize the word “shampooing” and today it’s in their dictionary. Maybe it’s best to think of shifting language as just another value-added deliverable.

Tom Snyder sails out of Peaks Island, Maine.