The Officer of the Day Club
I knew my turn as officer of the day (OD) at Sequoia Yacht Club was coming up. Every sailor knows it’s part of the sacred duty of club membership, like varnishing teak or pretending to enjoy light-wind races. But nothing prepares you for the existential drudgery of a full Sunday spent enforcing rules no one follows, watching people tie dock lines incorrectly, and babysitting a bar so well stocked it could sink a Catalina 27.
For those unfamiliar, being OD is the yachting equivalent of weekend detention. A full-day commitment, trapped within the hallowed halls of the club, watching time crawl like a becalmed race. If the ’80s movie The Breakfast Club had been about yacht clubs, it wouldn’t have been nearly as funny, and my fellow cast members would only include occasional appearances from: The Crusty Old Sea Dog, an actual retired skipper’s Labrador who stops by to critique my lack of OD and bartending skills; the Club Cheerleader, a perpetually smiling sailor who flutters in, thanks me for my commitment, and dashes off to go sailing, reminding me what I’m missing; the Bartender in Disguise, a longtime member who casually takes over the bar, side-eyeing my mixology experiments with visible concern; and, of course, my own Richard Vernon, our very own vice commodore Hans, a man whose Dutch efficiency, attention to detail, and complete lack of humor make him the perfect stand-in for The Breakfast Club’s vice principal. (“Your Ass is Mine.”)
My OD shift actually started the night before when I texted vice commodore Hans to ask if I could come in an hour late since I was flying in from out of town. His response was immediate: “Dis is not acceptable. De duty of de OD is important, ja? We haf rules! Dis is not some gezellig time in a café with a biertje!”
I knew better than to push my luck. But I also knew better than to show up on time. So, I arrived promptly at 10 a.m. And by promptly, I mean I was there at 10:30 a.m. I raised the colors and donned the OD badge like a sheriff walking into a town where nothing ever happens. Hans had told me where to find the OD guidebook, a detailed tome of responsibilities, but I could sum it up in one sentence: Be here. Try not to burn the place down.