Part 3: Getting the Job

    Captains Linda and Doug Lee sit side by side in a dusty, utilitarian office. They're taking a short break from work, but it's clear their time is precious. They're midway through yet another long day of spring fit-out, and they seem eager to get back outside to the Heritage. Even under time constraints, however, the Lees are ebullient. When I arrived at the North End Shipyard I was expecting a trickle of information, but instead got a fire hose. Amid other tangential topics of equal passion and import, the Lees are talking about the hiring process. Doug and Linda tend to finish each others' sentences, so their answers return to me as if delivered by a two-person chorus: as one person takes a short breath, the other holds the note.

    "We all have the same problem with crew: availability," Doug says. "Everybody calls up to say, 'I'm available for the entire season.' But if they're going to college..."

    "...they're only available from mid-May to mid-August..." Linda says.

    "...and we need them from April 1 until..."

    "...mid-October so we can get the vessel ready for winter."

    "Actually," Doug says, "we have quite a few people to choose from and we're always trying to get the ones who can stay the longest..."

    "...which isn't always the best criterion," Linda says.

    So what are the best criteria? What do captains look for in crew? Who's clearly wrong for the position? And why do so many "greens" get hired?

    "We get hundreds of applications from college students who've gone canoeing and kayaking and figure they're ready for it," says John Foss, captain of the American Eagle. "They forget that not only is this totally different from almost any job in the modern world, we're also in the hospitality business. Some people show up covered in tattoos and don't have any clean words in their vocabulary. They're totally useless. The best way we can act as interpreters of history is by giving vacationers a pleasant holiday."

    "We look for squared-away people who really know the hospitality business," says Noah Barnes, captain of the Stephen Taber. This season Barnes hired Brett Snowbarger, a deckhand from Kansas with no prior sailing experience. "We're sailors, but in truth we're really in the people business first, and the sailing business second. Brett presented himself well, he's been in the hospitality industry for a few years, and he clearly knows how to treat people."

    "I'm looking forward to working with Brett," says Joee Patterson, mate on the Taber. "I've met so many people who are like, 'I'm a sailor and I sail, and I'm tough and salty, yar!', but you have to have people skills. That's incredibly integral to what we do. If we were all crotchety, salty sailors who emulated the people who sailed these boats a hundred years ago, we wouldn't be running a very good business."

    "I've never refused someone for not having sailing experience," says Brenda Walker, captain of the Isaac H. Evans. "Everybody's new this year; everybody's totally green. My fiancé is going to be my mate this year, and he's not a sailor. Our cook, who's fresh out of culinary school, is not a sailor. Our messmate is not a sailor. I look for people who are eager, personable, and hard working. Those qualities are more important than, 'Hey, I've been a sailor for fifteen years.' One of the things that I haven't enjoyed about seasoned sailors is when they say, 'Well, that's not how we did it on the Whatever.' It's so much easier if my crews say, 'OK, you want me to do that? All right.'"

    "We're not here to debate," says Foss, "we're here to get the job done. A lot of captains would prefer to have someone who is a blank slate; someone who won't say, 'Well, on the So and So, we did it this way.' I like a mix. I prefer somebody who has some sea sense, somebody who is a good swimmer, somebody who knows how to row. But there are times when you have somebody who's washing dishes and gradually picking up on the sailing."

    "It's not rocket science," says Walker, "Usually people get it in a trip or two. The wind blows, you put up sails, you pull on a line. It's a lot of fun, but it's not rocket science. I came into this career having been a banker. I had a patient, knowledgeable teacher. I remember him saying, 'You sail the boat within the limitations of the crew.' So, early in the season there are things that I'm not going to do that I'll do later in the season when everybody knows where to be, when to be there, and what to anticipate. For the first couple of weeks, I'm not going to drop the hook under sail. I'm going to lower the sails before we enter the harbor, then motor in. Maybe I'll put a guest at the wheel, and say, 'steer here,' while I go up to the bow and explain to the crew what's going to happen. Everything is going to be done in slow motion at first."

    "We're very lucky," says Barry King, captain of the Mary Day. "We get a few new crew every year, but we've also had crew that keep coming back. That consistency is really good; it's good for the guests, and it's good for me because we do a lot of training. I know whatever I've said, the returning crew have heard it at least once before. Every year they understand a little more of the picture; they're getting a little more confident about their skills. Once you get the people part done, that's when it gets really nice. A lot of people get excited about the sailing, but I get more excited about the people. I'm not complaining about the sailing — not by a long shot — but it's definitely the people that make this thing good."

    "My first paying traditional sail job was on the Mary Day," says Alex Fee. "I was going to college in Washington state and, at one point, I was sitting in class and realized that it was the third day in a row that I'd been doodling schooners in my notebook. I called Barry King the very next day, had a two-hour interview on the phone, and he tried to scare me out of wanting the job — which was wise on his part. He told me about every bad thing that could possibly happen, what each day is like, and all the worst aspects of the job. Of course, you don't listen to that. You're like, 'Hey, I'm going to sail on a schooner!' So I packed up my car and showed up on April Fools’ Day, which was very fitting. Working for Barry King is really where I got all my training. He is an unbelievable teacher. He and his wife, Jen, focused on training a lot. It was great to have him as my first captain because he and his mate kicked my butt up and down the deck, literally. OK, not literally, but it felt like literally."

    When it comes to finding the right people — the people who show up to learn, follow instructions, and work hard — the Lees are perhaps most succinct.

    "We like people who are happy, cheery, easy to get along with, and know how to work like a son of a bitch..." says Doug Lee.

    "It takes a lot of work..." Linda says with a determined smile.Up next: Spring Fit-Out