Working Hard For A Little Fun

Sea Scouts

SEA SCOUTING  in the 1950s was hard work. Seriously, hard work. I didn't get to “ride” on a boat until I had invested at least three months scraping, sanding, caulking, and painting the hulls of four boats – a combined one hundred and twenty-eight feet of hulls from keel to gunwales (where the deck meets the side). Then we had to clean and paint the cabins, and sand and varnish the brightwork (handrails and other natural wood trim). There were brass to polish and engines to service, sails to sew and bilges to clean. As I said, seriously hard work.

Crashboat being launched

There were fewer and ten of us who met regularly each Saturday to work on the boats. I suppose it was my willingness to show up and put in the effort that quickly won me a place in their ranks. For my part, I was thrilled to find people, the skipper and the senior boys, who had the patience to teach me the skills that I needed and frequently complimented my work. That was a unique experience for me.

The Skipper inspected our work product, but the older boys taught me the skills and corrected my mistakes. Thus, I learned to “pass it on” was a key element of Sea Scouting. Almost every skill I learned, I learned from my peers. In turn, I taught those who followed me as I gained experience. It was a lesson that has served me well all my life. How much better would the world be if everyone shared that philosophy.

Few of today's Sea Scouts have wooden boats. Most are plastic and they have been deprived of that experience. Indeed, as an adult Sea Scout – I skippered ships for my children and their friends as well as youth-at-risk (gang kids serving time in juvenile detention facilities) I have often wondered how many would hang around if they had to work like we did back then. Unfortunately, they are growing up in a world of entitlements and guarantees. What will happen when society can no longer afford them?

Do I sound old and crotchety? Speak up! I can't hear you...