I’ve been trying to get on-the-water experience lately so I can take my final practical test for the Georgia Tech keelboats. They keep telling me that I’m technically proficient, I just need more practice.

So, when I was asked if I would crew on a guy’s boat, I jumped at the chance. He warned me that since I was new, I’d probably have to do all the crappy jobs, but I was OK with that. I gave him my phone number, and we parted ways.

Fast forward 6 weeks and I get a phone call. Greg was sailing in a race on Sunday the 25th, and he needed an extra crew member. I thought it was my lucky day.

There were 4 of us on the dock in the morning: Me, Greg the Skipper, his wife Margaret, and their friend Mas. We all had a good time rigging the boat and getting ready to leave. Everything was fine until we shoved off from the dock. As soon as the dock was too far away, Greg turned into Captain Hook.

Before, he had been an obnoxious blowhard. Suddenly, he was a yelling, screaming demon. As the new guy, my job was to sit on the high side of the boat and balance it out. This was explained to me as, “Get on the rail…Get on the rail now, damnit…GET ON THE MOTHERFUCKING RAIL RIGHT NOW!”

To make a long story short, the entire day was like that. Greg screaming commands at the rest of us and then cursing us when we didn’t move fast enough.

The crowning moment of the entire day occurred when I was adjusting the fore-sail (the jib). Since my shoes were a little dirty, I had to take them off (“Who the fuck is getting mud all over the fucking boat?!?!”), and the deck was wet and slippery. So, as I was adjusting the jib (“Drop the motherfucking jib right now, god-damnit!!!”), the boat shifted a little and I slipped. The next thing I knew, I was rolling over the lifelines into the water. (Un)luckily, I was able to grab one of the lifelines. I thought that would be enough to keep me from losing the boat, but it only made things worse. As soon as I hit the water, I stopped, while the boat kept moving. The lifeline was pulled through my fingers, cutting my left hand up pretty badly.

So there I was, man overboard, in the lake. I didn’t have a life-jacket on, but I’m a decent swimmer, plus I had taken my sandals off. No one on the boat had seen me go over, so I yelled at them that I was in the water. The concern for my safety was overwhelming (“What the hell are you doing?”). They had to come around and pick me up, which took us from first place to 3rd to last, but at that point I didn’t care. It had been a shitty day, and now that I look back, I almost feel good that we lost the race. Call it karma. Plus, I learned a valuable new lesson: To finish the race, the boat has to have all its crew. So, if your skipper is being an ass, just go for a swim.