The late Davis Love Jr., a great teacher and father of tour player Davis III, used to say that teachers would better understand what their students experience if they’d go out and learn a new skill themselves. Take up a musical instrument, for example, or learn ballroom dancing. It’s not a bad advice for magazine editors either, especially for editors on a magazine that majors in instruction.
Well, out of know such noble motive, I tried that last week while on vacation, and it was eye-opening. Our family spent 5 days at rustic Linekin Bay Resort in Maine as Dad (me) tried to learn what Mom and son 15-year-old Matt already know quite a bit about: Sailing.
I’m now awash with insight about what we ask of our readers.
Sailing, like golf, is a sport that a) looks pretty easy from a distance, b) takes place in beautiful surroundings that make it all the more seductive c) proves much trickier and more mechanical and counterintuitive than you think, with the a confusing a language all its own. As in golf, weather, and especially wind, makes all the difference. We were lucky there. But if you are a rank beginner, just keeping terms straight was a challenge. Port: what’s left after dinner, was one of my cleverer memos to self, I thought.
Three sessions in a our Rhodes 19 and one as a passenger in a 30-foot Pearson left me thinking, paradoxically, that I could be great at this and I had no clue, seconds apart. The fact that we had young Andy, our 17-year-old instructor, in the small boat with us, was, how you never wanted to let go of that halyard when you were rigging the boat, reminding us what when to let out the “main sheet,” and what the “points of sale were”, was a relief because I for one couldn’t remember any of it.
Davis Jr. would have loved Andy and the other instructors in Maine, because they were all patience and enthusiasm. There gave no exams, applied no pressure, conveyed a love of the sport throughout; as a result, I was hooked. I will sail again, not because I think I’ll ever be good, but for the pure pleasure of it: the beauty of the sails catching the wind, the thrill of coming about without killing yourself, and then, once on the move, the almost silent pleasure of that slide across the waves. It was both peaceful and, with 100 feet of water below you, sobering. Don’t get too misty-eyed here, I kept reminding myself; people drown doing this.
What sailing lacks, to its benefit, is a scoring system. Nobody timed us or tested us; there was no scorecard, no “what did you have there?” question every 15 minutes. At week’s end, we had a competition, a 45-minute sail around a small island in our little cove, but it was all fun. Of the seven boats in our heat, we came in last. By a lot. As we slowly made our way out of the starting gate--not the right term, I'm sure-- already far behind, the instructors played the Star Wars theme and cheered us on; we could only laugh. My son and my wife, each with fantasies of winning, were disappointed. I was disappointed only when we reached the finish line, because our last sail was over.
What I learned : In golf as in sailing, we expect a lot of beginners. We speak a strange language and most instructors—and tip writers—expect them to master it quickly. We fill them with facts about what makes the ball (or the boat) do this or that and they’re supposed to memorize that, too. And in golf we hand them a scorecard and start them counting.
What works, really, is patience and compassion and absolute clarity in our instructions. My first marine experience convinced me that we have to watch our (jargon-filled) language and stop expecting beginners to master it quickly. It convinced even more that our game’s obsession with score, with handicaps and with competition almost from the start, holds us back. It makes learning the sport harder and has the potential to suck out the fun out of the sport because it gets newcomers judging themselves, often harshly, from the start. Add to that a dress code and a million points of etiquette and we're not exactly welcoming.
That's why I think the industry game-growth program,
Get Golf Ready, really has potential. That program offers a terrific orientation and instruction, emphasis on fun, not score, five sessions for only $100. I only wish it were available in more places. But we're getting there.
In the end, my Maine experience reminded me that it's the sail—or in our sport, the walk and the camaraderie—that counts. Sell that, and people will stay.
-Bob Carney