On our Grand Cruise last weekend, I had two competent sailors with me so Camille and I just hung out on the boat and enjoyed the ride. I'd given the helm to Kathy and Grant was handling sail trim. It was a very nice way to sail.
So, Camille and I were joking about what we call this and what we call that, coming up with new names for everything that goes to sea. During this time, I still had some responsibilities as Captain of the Yacht so I informed the helm that we needed to head up a bit to avoid this Big-Ass Tanker (B-AT) that was on a collision course about a mile and a half away. The helm did nothing as far as I could tell. So, I scrunched up my eyes all nautically, tilted my head inquisitively and asked, "are you going to head up?" She looked at me blankly, what I like to call the Brooktrout stare.
It then hit me that I had never really let her drive before and she didn't know what the hell I meant. "Head up" might just mean look around a bit. So, I decided to break it down a bit more sensibly..."turn left for a bit until we clear that B-AT." Just as she was turning the tiller, I hear a six year old voice behind me say, "don't you mean Port?"