Third Period: History Lesson
Day two started with us touring the engine compartments of two more vessels, a 40 and 42 with twins.
“Where are the Racors?” Day sniffed in Londonese. “The seacocks? Manual fuel cutoff?”
It was another empowering day. I was now comfortable, with so much boating knowledge. But I was still struggling with docking. I lacked the confidence to back in alone. I lay awake all night doing it in my head, But I still couldn’t make it work on the water the next day.
I set it up. I began to back and got a break — no big gust. I was just about to clear the bow of the adjacent boat and ...almost...lined...up to start backing her in. Emily prepared the lines, standing ready. Bam! A big gust pushed the stern to port. Capt. Day quietly called the shots. Everyone in the marina was watching — including the owner of the cruiser alongside. Then I had my epiphany. I got it! I started shifting and throttling before Day called for it. I greased her in. Emily made fast the lines.
The cruiser owner high-fived us and passersby flashed thumbs up. But we were soon brought back to earth. Tonight was our last night on the boat, and Day had left us a pile of homework to prepare for our finals tomorrow, including chart work.
“This is where we are going tomorrow,” said Day, jotting down latitude and longitude coordinates. “Plot a course to get us there.”
I’m doomed. I can’t even turn on the GPS in our boat.