RACHAEL SPROT is a Yachtmaster Instructor and former director of Rubicon 3 Adventure. She has sailed from all over the world and owns a Cheoy Lee 36
They say that relationships formed at sea can founder on shore, but sit back with a glass of wine in a busy marina and you’ll find evidence of the reverse in action too. There’s no shortage of couples taking their relationships afloat with varying degrees of success. It’s not long before you hear the familiar phrases: ‘I thought you put a fender there’, ‘Why didn’t you get off?’ and the well-deserved, ‘Just do it yourself then.’ Berthing Bingo is a cruel spectator sport, which I would never condone, but it helps to take note occasionally, if only to remind yourself of the pitfalls we’re all susceptible to. I’m ashamed to admit that until recently I’d never taken my university friends sailing. However, after buying my boat, a Luders 36, Nimrod, last summer, I thought it was time to remedy this.
When sailing as an instructor there’s an invisible student-teacher dynamic, which makes the relationship on board much easier. Your seniority as a sailor and a professional demeanour forms the bedrock of the crew’s trust.
How I interact with my family and friends is totally different, however, and taking them to sea was a far more daunting prospect. These are the people who tried to save me from my terrible fashion sense, terrible cooking and terrible romantic partners.
They then stuck around to pick up the pieces when their efforts inevitably failed. Friendship and shared history? Yes. Professionalism and seniority? Somewhat less in evidence.
So how would I cope without my instructor’s hat on? Where would I score on the Berthing Bingo scale? There was only one way to find out.
Sally, Julia, Helen and I met at university. Whilst they landed in London in their twenties and have careers in the arts, PR and fashion, I went to sea.
