Do you need a wally?

I would like to share with fellow readers the darkest, most embarrassing moment of my sailing life.

We were in Lefkas in Greece. A boat was coming in stern-to next to us, with a nice young couple from the Netherlands on board. By the time I put down the gin and tonic to help with the lines, the nimble lass was already on the quay, tying the windward mooring line. No drama, I said to myself, wondering about the curious way of holding the line with her foot while her partner was throwing the other mooring line.

They had it all under control, so more from friendly neighbourliness than any real need, I asked, ‘Can I give you a hand?’

She looked puzzled, so I checked the ensign quickly. Yep, they were Dutch, so they must speak English.

‘Do you need a hand?’ I insisted. Another blank look for an answer.

‘Do you need h-e-l-p?’

She exchanged a few words with her partner in a language I couldn’t understand, let alone recognise. So I took the second line and made it fast.

‘Welcome to Lefkas,’ I said, stepping on my plank, back aboard to continue enjoying my drink and thought nothing of it. Come dinner time at a lovely tavern, our handsome Dutch neighbours strolled past and my wife and I waved. They returned the gesture and only at that point did I notice. The dark earth could not crack a hole deep enough for me to crawl into its melting flames. I realised that the Dutch girl had no hand on one arm and a just a couple of fingers on the other, which I presumed a birth defect.

More than 15 years later, I still feel terrible for the lousiest and most insensitive few minutes of my life. I’m a worm without a rock. I sincerely apologise to the charming young lady for my temporary lapse of vision.

On the upside – I am now always look at a person’s hands before I ask if they want help with the lines.