Illustrations by Chris Knauss
The fighter pilot
  The first type is what I call the jet fighter pilot, named after watching a commercial airline pilot bring his 36-foot sailboat into his slip. Standing on my boat l looked up and saw him coming around the end of the last dock in the marina at a speed normally used for takeoffs at BWI. As he reached his slip he swung the boat in with no apparent reduction in headway until his stem was inches from the dock. He then slammed the engine into reverse like landing a 737. His bow hit hard enough that the first third of the boat went up onto the dock entangling his forward pulpit with the boat across from his. Staying in reverse he pushed the throttle to the stops, scrapping his way back, dragging his neighbor's anchor with him. All this was under the amazed eyes of the nearby dock master. If that wasn't bad enough, his girlfriend was thrown down the companionway, landing unhurt, but certainly less than impressed.
  The first rule: Docking is a race won by the slow. If you think you are going slow enough, slow down. It's like cooking, you can add more spice (or speed), but taking it back is hard.

The macho man
  The second type is the macho man. They may or may not understand the physics involved in backing into a slip, but regardless they will spend hours throwing the tiller back and forth, slamming the gearshift into forward and reverse, determined to back the boat to the right without any assistance. The macho man usually issues very loud orders to his frightened crew. Everybody in the marina is now watching this epic effort, arming themselves with paddles and fenders to prevent damage to their boat.
  The second rule: Use your dock lines to get the boat into a slip. Single propeller boats do not back easily to starboard unless you get plenty of sternway, which is not always a good idea in a crowded marina.
  It is not a sign of weakness, but of seamanship, if you take either a bow line or spring line tied to a forward pylon, place a half-loop around a stern cleat on the side nearest your destination, and then slowly put the engine in reverse, pointing the rudder like an arrow towards your slip. Let out slack as you back and your boat will magically lever its way into the slip. Then take the line forward and cleat it where it is intended to be. When backing to starboard this technique is essential, but it does make backing to port much safer and controlled. Remember, it's you against the boat, and the boat will win unless you are smarter.

The urban planner
 Type three is the urban planner. They insist that in their neighborhood all boats should be either bow to the dock or stern to the dock, regardless of where their slip resides in the marina. Much like the macho man, they will spend endless hours trying to put the boat in where it does not easily want to go.
  Rule three: Plan the best way to dock a boat based on where the slip is located. As you come down a fairway if your slip is on the port side then going in stern first makes sense because you will have to back to port, which is what the boat wants to do anyway. Just be careful going out because your stern will swing to starboard and you will want your bow heading that direction as you leave the slip.
  Again use your dock lines as you exit to encourage your bow to the right. If your slip is on your starboard side gently swing in bow first, going slow! When you leave, back out slowly. Your stern will to go to port whether you want it to or not, pointing your bow the correct direction for exit.

The waterman
  The last type is the waterman, not the real working watermen, just those that want to drive like one. I stood in Crisfield and watched as two workboats came in single-handed. With a minimum of fuss and smooth as silk they swung their boats around, slid backwards into their slips, and calmly picked up their lines. In seconds they were off the boat and walking to their trucks. They should have a disclaimer on their boats like car ads have: A professional driver on a closed course.
  The average working waterman has spent 200 or more days a year on the water since childhood. They sense wind and currents that we don't know exist and adjust automatically for conditions without giving it a thought.
I watch the weekend boater inspired by Rock Hall backing contests decide to emulate the process with none of the experience. This past summer a couple came into my home marina and with a flourish attempted the perfect waterman's landing. I watched them slide sideways down the fairway well past their slip because the wind was strong across their beam. They had also failed to see the current, but that helped push them back towards their destination. There was no damage other than to egos. Look at the bright side, I doubt the experienced waterman would do as well as you at your job. You do it 240 days a year.
  So the last rule is: Observe. You cannot do what a professional does instinctively based on many more hours practicing their craft. Before entering a marina, stop the boat to find the wind, the current, other boats, extended bow pulpits, and the other pitfalls not obvious to weekend boaters and add these factors to your plan.

A global problem
  Docking is a problem on a global scale. We have twice chartered a boat in Greece, each time choosing to sail with a Captain because of the language barrier and, more importantly, because of the Mediterranean Mooring style of docking, common throughout Europe.
  The first night our Greek captain placed three very large fenders on each side of our 60-foot boat. He dropped the anchor using a remote windless control and proceeded to back at a breathtaking speed toward the concrete bulkhead that serves as a dock paying out almost three hundred feet of chain. Without hesitation he placed us between two other large vessels in a space I would not have put a jetski. As he came to a rapid, but smooth stop the mate leaped to the dock with two stern lines and tied us to metal rings called crinkles, and the Captain called for Ouzo all around. There are no piers, no pylons, and nothing resembling a slip.
I saw him do this numerous times. He backed into 30-knot winds, he compensated for cross winds at least that strong, and he did it in crowded harbors with no scratches, dings, or shouting. (At least none involving the boat, Greek captains are always calling to people on the dock about something.) He has had some practice after almost 30 years as a charter captain.
  I had plenty of opportunities to observe European weekend boaters trying that same maneuver in crowded town harbors producing chaos beyond description. There are anchors dragging (every boat has 300 or so feet of chain out), boats blown by crosswinds and currents into neighboring boats, boarding platforms shattered by the concrete quays and cursing in multiple languages. Colorful yes; productive no. Boaters are the same around the world.
The occasional, weekend boater needs rules that don't apply to a professional. Take a minute and decide what type of docker you are. Then remember; go slow, use your lines, plan your approach and observe all the conditions. You will never dock a boat as much as the watermen or our Greek Captain, but thoughtful practice is important. The fear may linger each time you approach, but the results will be better.

David Berry is an ASA certified sailing instructor who holds a US Coast Guard 100-ton OUPV license. He lives and works in Havre de Grace during the boating season. Prior to becoming a full time sailor he held a number of executive positions in the telecommunication industry. His hobby is sailing his own boat. You can reach him at themariner@chespub.com