The Crew

Mario’s Log: July 15th, 2025

Now, I don’t want to make any snap judgments – these things take time – but I think I might like my crew. Of course I want to keep that a secret from them for as long as possible, but there’s no harm in letting everyone else know.

Deciding to spend months cooped up with a bunch of guys you’ve never met sounds like …well, in fairness, it sounds like joining the Navy, I guess, but the point is that it’s a move fraught with peril. I almost killed my first roommate, and we worked different shifts and had our own bedrooms. I’m writing this from a boat with more people on it than beds and we all share a single shower. Who those people are, how they interact and get along, and what they know about being at sea are critical factors.

Understanding a crew’s competence, their strengths and weaknesses, is largely a function of resume; it’s easy to figure out. That will do for an afternoon sail. But for months? For months it’s going to matter that you like each other. That can’t be found out in a day. These things take time. But I am the only one playing real catch up on the likeability question.

Both Scott and Dan have known Sam and cruised with him for for 25 years. Bill is Scott’s son, so we’ll assume they’ve been close for awhile. Jon has been Scott’s best friend since college, so I assume by now must have had time with both Sam and Bill. And then there’s me, the outsider, vetted through a Zoom call and a few emails and the only ex-military member of the crew. Besides being the new guy, that ex-military thing can present a real problem with the wrong combination of personalities.

Everyone thinks they can take a joke. Everyone thinks they are straight shooters. But with six years in the Navy followed by sixteen in helicopter search and rescue in the U.S. Coast Guard, my personality has been molded by people who say what they think – now – or everyone on the crew get’s dead, and then relieve that pressure back at the base by relentlessly making fun of each other’s slightest foibles.

As everyone was fair game and everyone was dishing and taking, it was just the culture of a close crew. Examples? Sure: On a night training flight once, as we flew over a pilot’s house, he told a rare self-deprecating joke where he indicated that his wife’s boyfriend might be there. “No Sir, I’m right here,” my voice cracked over the comms system. I blew him a kiss as he glared back through his visor. If no one was giving you a hard time, that’s when you would get your feelings hurt.

It had to be that way. Breaking down any barrier to being able to say anything to each other, freeing ourself from the worry of stepping on toes or bruising egos was an invaluable intangible that kept us safe when things got serious. If I’m worried about hurting someone’s feelings it get’s harder to bark a command should risk and safety depend on immediate action. “Um, Sam, would you mind coming just slightly left in case those actually are rocks I see in front of the bow?” That would be a polite thing to say to a salty and competent captain of his experience, but it might also get us both dead. Polite isn’t what you want. “Rocks – hard to port, now!” would be better.

It may be a flaw but if I really like you and you understand it for what it is, camaraderie, the best you can expect from me is a 50/50 mix of friendliness and ruthless ribbing. I hope my new crew understands. They have to trust me. They have to know I trust them. The closer you are to your crew, the safer you are. And you will not ruthlessly rib people you don’t like. It’s how I treat crew. Not everyone; not the people I work with day; not even family, but crew. Crew gets special attention. My crew gets my best, well-intended, camaraderie. Thankfully, this crew is impossible not to like and it’s been showing.

Scott is unendingly friendly and as good a communicator and teacher to others (and me) as I’ve ever met. Dan is brilliant mind and a resilient soul with an easy laugh, and Sam is a genuine blast to be around – quick with a story (but not with a quick story) and a fount of maritime knowledge.

Sam, if you’re wondering, I’m only digging at you because I like you. I’ve had some time around Scott and Jon over the past couple of months. I think we’re good. But you, well, you invited me on this thing. You’re one of the all-the-way crew from Portland to Washington. We’ve got to get close quick. It’s the only reason It might feel like I’m working you over. Well, that and you just make it so easy.

Liking these guys took no time at all.