Wolff's area: Sailor types - the know-it-all
Life on board a sailing yacht and in the harbours offers many a bizarre encounter. Author Steffi von Wolff regularly recounts her experiences as a crew member in her column "Wolffs Revier". Not always meant seriously, often satirically exaggerated, but always with a lot of heart and a wink. This time it's about the sensitive topic of "women's urination" on board a yacht without a toilet.
Sometimes it's about men's crews, sometimes about harbour parties, then the grandchildren come on board. Steffi von Wolff deals with singing crews, arrogant skippers; in other words, with everything she sees every day when sailing. Of course, it is journalistically impeccably researched and observed without bias.
Steffi von Wolff wishes you lots of fun and always a hand's breadth.
Sailor types: the know-it-all
But you have to do it differently!
He likes to drive boat people out of their minds. The know-it-all, also known as the smart aleck (the word "smart aleck" is used here by his more coarse contemporaries), can be found in all harbours, large and small. You will make his acquaintance while you are looking for a berth. He stands watchfully on his boat like a panting Rottweiler, observes what is happening in "his" harbour and likes to comment without being asked. He is absorbed in being mistaken for the harbour master and wallows in his supposed responsibility.
"There's nothing left on the jetty", "The box there is too narrow", "It's too shallow there" are phrases he has grown fond of and which he could actually have printed on banners to save his voice in the long term.
If you haven't been sailing for that long and don't immediately recognise the smart aleck as such, you often make the mistake of lying down right next to him, provided there is room and the smart aleck (of course) doesn't mind. Of course, he helps with mooring and comments loudly.
"Nah, don't throw the line yet."
"Whatdo you there?"
"But I do it differently."
"But you should always practise that a bit more."
"What kind of manoeuvre is that!"
"You can see that's wrong."
This good advice is often given while it is pouring with rain or the wind is not having a good day. While you are finally allowed to throw the line ("Now you can hand it over"), you are already regretting having chosen this spot, because once the boat is moored, the journey continues.
"Where are you from?"
"From Tunø."
"What do you wantthere? That's the crux of the matter. No, you don't go there anymore, I've been there once and never again. You should go to Svendborg sometime."
"We've already been, it's nice there too."
"Nice? That's not an expression at all. In the fish shop, that isBendixenThere's really good salmon and, if you're lucky, oysters, but you always have to be careful."
"Why is that?"
"Why what?"
"Why do you have to be careful with oysters?"
"Good man, have you ever eaten a spoilt oyster? That's the gut celebrating Mardi Gras. Where are you going next? Wait a minute, how did you put the cleat on? That's not possible. You'll have to do it differently. I'm basically doing it right, but that's not a proper head slap. And if I may say so, you haven't rigged the sails properly either. What are you eating tonight?"
"My wife has soup ..."
You don't get full on soup. I always say you have to have a piece of meat, real sailors always need meat, a briefly fried steak or bratwurst or grützwurst or boiled black pudding.
"But your oilskins have seen their best days. I only have the Musto one, you should only wear Musto if you want to do everything right, do you want a beer?"
"No."
"Here. I only use the PET bottles, they're much easier to handle than cans, especially when sailing at an angle, you can screw the bottle shut, do you have bedding on board?"
"Er... yes."
"I only ever use microfibre, cotton can easily get mouldy in damp weather."
"Let's go below deck, it's raining."
Don't you have a cake stand? You'll have to do it differently. I always say that a thing like this is half the battle, I have ... hello, hello, why are you just leaving?
And then you're sitting below deck without a cake stand, not daring to come out because you're probably climbing up the companionway all wrong and have to do everything completely differently.
And so, even if it's stopped raining, you sit downstairs and wait for the know-it-all to go to sleep, which of course he always does very late, for whatever reason.
You swear to yourself that you will never become like that and yet you catch yourselfBendixen doesn't buy oysters because of the carnival-celebrating intestines, and so the smart aleck is always there, even if you'd like to shoot him to the moon.
Luckily there are other types of sailors, so you can look forward with me to the old sea dog smoking a pipe with an Elbe sailor on his thinning hair, telling of his bad experiences at sea, of greedy octopuses, of seaquakes, of ... but I'm getting ahead of myself.
Have a nice weekend!
