It's easy to mock. But let's consider what it was like to be this guy and ask what it would take to behave honourably as opposed to behaving as shamefully as this guy did.
To do that we have consider this: this man had failed irredeemably as of the second the ship touched bottom. I know, you're thinking, "Tell me something that isn't obvious Sherlock."
But put yourself in his head. He's taken a stupid chance. You've taken stupid chances right? So he's taken a stupid chance and it's gone wrong. The second the ship hit ground—before he or anyone else knew how bad it was—our Italian sea captain knew his career was over. Running a ship aground is not like backing your car into someone else or sailing your own boat onto the rocks. They take away your license to do your job if you steer off course and then run aground.
If he'd just run aground near the channel he was supposed to have been in he could have blamed it on the steering mechanism. Ships rudders are driven by chain mechanisms not unlike a bicycle only on a much larger scale and they can skip. When ships coming up the Saint Lawrence Seaway just south of me run aground the captain always blames it on the steering mechanism skipping because there is no way of verifying that.
But such a pilot would have to be near the channel for the excuse to wash. If he was deliberately sailing outside the approved route to indulge in some whim, it wouldn't count as an excuse.
So that's the first thing to grasp. Even if nothing as serious as what did transpire had followed, his career was over. If he'd only scratched the paint, there would have been an inquiry and the board of inquiry would have taken away his license.
Okay, the obvious lesson is, don't take the stupid chance in the first place, but he's already done that. And we've all taken stupid chances. And the thing is, this can't have been the first time he did this; that's not the way it works with stupid chances. You can break the speed the limit, and break it by a lot, for years before getting a speeding ticket. You can speed all your life without ever having the woman and her child step out in front of you when it's too late to stop.
I think the really important thing to grasp here is that the guy no longer has any professional motive to behave honourably. And he has very little personal motive. He'll be fired, probably sued for negligent performance of his duties. Best case scenario, he'll lose his job, his savings, his house. And that's what happens if nothing else bad happens. From that moment on, nothing could go right for this guy.
And then it got worse. Much, much worse. He's already on the edge emotionally and it gets worse and worse. And at every stage, he has no professional motive and very little personal motive to do the right thing.
I'll tell you the worst part from a sailor's perspective: that he abandoned the ship. For starters—if I could insert a minor safety lesson here—you never abandon a ship or boat until you are certain it's going to sink. You're always better off on board than in the lifeboat and your infinitely better off on the boat than in the water. And, as you can check for yourself, a lot of that ship is still above water. Every single soul on board could have remained on board until the next day and still been evacuated safely. His life was never in danger. Never. There was never a moment in the operation when he was in danger of drowning or being hurt (barring the possibility of an angry passenger or crew member beating him up).
But who knows how he felt at that moment?
And that is the question. How would you behave if you got into such a fix? How could you know?
And here your imagination is useless. I could tell myself endlessly that I wouldn't do what that guy did but I don't really know that.
By the way, do you want to read a really great book? A really manly book? Then you want to read Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. It deals with a situation not unlike this one.
To do that we have consider this: this man had failed irredeemably as of the second the ship touched bottom. I know, you're thinking, "Tell me something that isn't obvious Sherlock."
But put yourself in his head. He's taken a stupid chance. You've taken stupid chances right? So he's taken a stupid chance and it's gone wrong. The second the ship hit ground—before he or anyone else knew how bad it was—our Italian sea captain knew his career was over. Running a ship aground is not like backing your car into someone else or sailing your own boat onto the rocks. They take away your license to do your job if you steer off course and then run aground.
If he'd just run aground near the channel he was supposed to have been in he could have blamed it on the steering mechanism. Ships rudders are driven by chain mechanisms not unlike a bicycle only on a much larger scale and they can skip. When ships coming up the Saint Lawrence Seaway just south of me run aground the captain always blames it on the steering mechanism skipping because there is no way of verifying that.
But such a pilot would have to be near the channel for the excuse to wash. If he was deliberately sailing outside the approved route to indulge in some whim, it wouldn't count as an excuse.
So that's the first thing to grasp. Even if nothing as serious as what did transpire had followed, his career was over. If he'd only scratched the paint, there would have been an inquiry and the board of inquiry would have taken away his license.
Okay, the obvious lesson is, don't take the stupid chance in the first place, but he's already done that. And we've all taken stupid chances. And the thing is, this can't have been the first time he did this; that's not the way it works with stupid chances. You can break the speed the limit, and break it by a lot, for years before getting a speeding ticket. You can speed all your life without ever having the woman and her child step out in front of you when it's too late to stop.
I think the really important thing to grasp here is that the guy no longer has any professional motive to behave honourably. And he has very little personal motive. He'll be fired, probably sued for negligent performance of his duties. Best case scenario, he'll lose his job, his savings, his house. And that's what happens if nothing else bad happens. From that moment on, nothing could go right for this guy.
And then it got worse. Much, much worse. He's already on the edge emotionally and it gets worse and worse. And at every stage, he has no professional motive and very little personal motive to do the right thing.
I'll tell you the worst part from a sailor's perspective: that he abandoned the ship. For starters—if I could insert a minor safety lesson here—you never abandon a ship or boat until you are certain it's going to sink. You're always better off on board than in the lifeboat and your infinitely better off on the boat than in the water. And, as you can check for yourself, a lot of that ship is still above water. Every single soul on board could have remained on board until the next day and still been evacuated safely. His life was never in danger. Never. There was never a moment in the operation when he was in danger of drowning or being hurt (barring the possibility of an angry passenger or crew member beating him up).
But who knows how he felt at that moment?
And that is the question. How would you behave if you got into such a fix? How could you know?
And here your imagination is useless. I could tell myself endlessly that I wouldn't do what that guy did but I don't really know that.
By the way, do you want to read a really great book? A really manly book? Then you want to read Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad. It deals with a situation not unlike this one.
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