Sightlines
A YACHT DESIGNER GETS TRUMPED.
When the coolest guy in the room isn't a yacht designer.
My list of coolest dudes on the planet starts with big wave surfer Laird Hamilton, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, Elon Musk and, of course, our presidential favorite and most manly man, Vladimir Putin. Who wouldn’t be a little intimidated to sit at a dinner table with these guys and small talk? Let’s face it, even if you own a 200-foot mega yacht, we all look pretty wimpy next to these guys.
My wife and I joined the Los Angeles Yacht Club (LAYC) a couple of years ago, but seldom have the time to visit the clubhouse in our rush to get to Catalina Island. However, on a trip to LA earlier this year we had a chance to attend a monthly dinner for new members. We joined the club to meet new people, so off we went.
There was a mix of about 25 new and old members milling around the bar with us for a short while before we all scattered to a couple of tables for dinner. Most of the women at our table gathered at one end, with the men at the other. The women chatted about recipes or something like that, while the men talked of racing in high seas back in the old days. Very old school.
One by one each of the men introduced themselves. We had one new member sitting with us. As each person spoke, I grew more confident that I was the coolest dude at the table. We were in a yacht club, with yachtsmen and I’m a yacht designer. I am going to be king of this night. Wait till they get to me. All I have to do is mention I write for Power & Motoryacht and I will have them buying my dinner.
The guy sitting to my right is the newbie. He tells us he just bought a boat for the first time and asks if the windlass is supposed to rip off the deck when you use all your power in reverse to free your anchor. Wow, is this going to be fun! What kind of crap boat did he buy? We will overwhelm him with friendly advice and make him feel really small. Male dominance at its best!
The guy’s name is Tom X (I don’t remember his real last name). He is in his early 50s, trim, very good looking, perfect teeth, single with a pretty girlfriend. I don’t like him. He starts to talk about racing his vintage Porsches at Laguna Seca. I peg him for a Newport Beach trust fund baby. I don’t like him. Wait till they get to me, world traveling yacht designer; I will destroy this pretty boy.
I am seated last in our little circle of new friends, and they still haven’t gotten to me. Tom is hogging all the attention. So, I ask him about his work. He replies... “I am the chief rocket scientist for SpaceX.”
What the hell? The blood rushes from every part of my body and the oxygen is completely sucked out of the room. No yacht designer can follow this guy. I have been trumped, without even getting a chance to introduce myself. I am demoralized.
After dinner, I sheepishly ask if he has a business card. How stupid of me, of course not. It’s not like I am going to buy a rocket from him, I am not even in his world. Where is The Rock when you need him?