Genuine question: what shall we do with the drunken sailors?

http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/dec/04/drunken-sailors-booze-boats-online

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If you’ve ever wondered what keeps harbour masters up at night, then news from Fowey in Cornwall today brings the answer. “One of the plagues of harbour masters,” says Captain Paul Thomas, comes from the “would-be sailors” who buy boats on auction sites online. “People can be seduced into buying a boat really easily, often late at night and maybe after a few drinks.”

Ouch, Captain Thomas! No word on how he came to this rather judgmental conclusion, but the burden of these alcohol-induced decisions is, apparently, all on him. The irresponsible idiots “don’t realise how expensive it is, can’t afford it, and then we get left with the boats and the costs,” he complains. They only want proper boaties in beautiful Fowey. “We don’t want derelicts,” he sniffs, “making it look untidy and causing a possible environmental hazard.”

Actually, I have some sympathy for the captain. Underneath the yachtie snobbery (and there’s certainly plenty of that in the boat world), he has a point. There’s no sadder sight for boatlovers than an abandoned boat. And it’s a very common sight. Boats appeal to everyone as a status symbol, from the filthy rich with their super “yachts” in Monaco (technically right, but they’re more mini cruise ships than yachts) to the newly minted, who race out to fulfil their lifelong dreams with the speedboat equivalent of the flashy convertible car. The most abused of all is the ultimate romantic dream – the traditional wooden sailing boat, whose maintenance requirements means it gets used once every three years and lies rotting the rest of the time.

Whether these purchases are made after a few tipples or not, booze and boats do often seem to go together. I’m a bit of a safety bore myself, never drinking at sea. But as I also live on a boat (old, wooden, regularly sanded and painted, Captain Thomas), I must admit to a sometimes-irresponsible attitude vis-a-vis alcohol consumption on board. I blame it on the daily romanticism of living afloat. After all, the draw and drama of boats after a few drinks can prove magnetic for the landlocked as well. Last year, 60 miles east from Fowey, the coastguard and RNLI in Dartmouth had to contend with a woman who, at the end of a two-day Lambrini bender, stole a 100-seat passenger ferry, apparently intent on heading for St Tropez. She was heard shouting “I’m Jack Sparrow” and “I’m a pirate” as she careened into other vessels “like a pinball machine’’. Perhaps Captain Thomas should count his blessings.

Boaters driving under the influence of alcohol can, in theory, be prosecuted under the Merchant Shipping Act 1995 “if their actions on the water are seen to be endangering other vessels, structures or individuals”. In practice, its enforcement would empty most pontoons faster than a colony of drywood termites at a vintage boat club. After all, surely the first thing you do, after smashing a bottle of champagne on the stern of your new Sunseeker, is crack open the gin for a sunset G&T? There’s a reason these things are called gin palaces. Proper yachties often prefer a dark and stormy at the end of a day’s sailing, perhaps harkening back to the days of piracy, yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. Whisky is a popular night cap for salt-crusted crews sharing confined spaces.

For many, a day sailing, fishing or generally mucking about on the water is not the same without a few cold beers. But actually, for a lot of people the pleasures of owning a boat and having a nice drink on the deck are enough that they never leave the harbour. Thus a lot of drinking happens in the (relative) safety of the marina. After all, the phrase sea legs can take on a new meaning when a bit of misfooting ends up in an unexpected sobering in the drink.