Eartec Wireless Radios – The Marriage Saver

Lisa and I have celebrated 22 wedding anniversaries. For at least the past dozen years, we haven’t exchanged gifts beyond small tokens like flowers or chocolates. Instead, we go out to dinner, just the two of us, to celebrate the occasion. This year we celebrated at May’s Kitchen, a Thai restaurant on Vashon that is so good, it is worthy of special occasions like anniversaries. As we were heading out the door on our way to the restaurant, Lisa surprised me with a package.

“Wait, what’s this?” I asked with apprehension. She was breaking tradition. “I didn’t buy you a gift.”

“Don’t worry. It’s for both of us. It’s a marriage saver,” she replied with a cryptic smile.

I opened the box and found a pair of Eartec wireless radio headphones. These are two-way radios used by crews of larger yachts to talk to each other during critical boat maneuvers like docking. I can don a set of these up on the flybridge and Lisa can wear a set down in the cockpit and we can talk to each other without raising our voices. A marriage saver.

I had wanted a set of these, but couldn’t quite justify the cost, and honestly, admit to the implication that the two of us needed to improve our communication skills afloat. But I was delighted to have them as a gift and over dinner brought up the prospect of geeky code names we could use while docking.

“We’ll definitely need code names when we’re on the radio,” I ventured. “Let’s see, how about we go with fruit names? You can be Blackberry and I’ll be Pomegranate,” I suggested. I had already given this some thought on our way to the restaurant.

“Blackberry? I’m supposed to be Blackberry? Where did you come up with that name? I don’t want to be Blackberry! In fact, I don’t want to use code names at all. We have enough to think about when we’re docking, I can’t remember a code name for you. Plus it’s dumb.”

I decided to let this go for now, given the initial negative response. But oh yes, we will use code names with these cool radios.

We could have used them a few weeks earlier as we were docking in our own slip at Quartermaster Marina on a blustery afternoon. The wind was gusting to 20 knots as we made our approach, the strongest winds we’d faced in a docking situation so far on this trawler. At the most critical juncture of the procedure with our bow inside the slip, now mere feet from crunching into a dock or another boat, a neighbor fired up a circular saw. The loud piercing whine obliterated any communication from Lisa three decks below.

“What?” I yelled from the flybridge. “Port or starboard?”

I could hear nothing but the whine of the saw and an indistinct yell from Lisa. The visibility is great from the flybridge except for the immediate area close to the hull. Time was of the essence.

“I think she said ‘port’.” I pushed the stern to port with the thrusters, toward the dock.

Seconds later, as the saw’s shriek finally died out, the words “Starboard, starboard, STARBOARD!!!” came hurtling up from Lisa, clear as a bell to anyone within a mile of the marina, each successive command rising in volume and urgency, the last one a full-throated yell loud enough to wake the gods above.

Just as we were about to crash into the dock, I pushed the stern away with a mere touch of the thruster joystick. Disaster averted. Every return to dock without a fiberglass repair bill is considered a success, but you can see how we might have benefited from these two-way radios.

We tried out the Eartecs on our very next trip. We were docking Indiscretion at Poulsbo Marina for the first time and needed to back into the slip, a new maneuver for us.

The thing about docking a large trawler yacht that no one tells you is how slow the process is. About twenty minutes prior to arrival, we start preparing. Fenders put out on both sides of the hull, dock lines ready to cast over the sides, marina maps consulted, stabilizer fins centered, thrusters powered on, perhaps a call to the marina to confirm our slip is vacant, and for me, a shift of helm from the pilothouse up to the flybridge for better visibility. Meanwhile, as we get closer, we slowly drop our speed from seven knots to around two or three knots when we close with the marina itself.

We decided we would don our radios early since it was our first time using them. I clicked on my unit and adjusted the headset. The ear cushion is comfortable and the adjustable microphone juts out in front of my mouth, making me feel like a fighter pilot.

“Blackberry, Blackberry, Blackberry, this is Pomegranate, do you copy, over?” I said in my most serious radio voice.

“Stop calling me Blackberry!” came the immediate response, loud and clear. With these radios, everything is self-contained within the headset itself. There are no wires to clip on your belt, no buttons to push to talk. It’s very natural to communicate this way. You can also raise the microphone up to mute it should you decide you need to say something your mate shouldn’t hear.  Battery life is a staggering six hours with these radios.  I hope we never face that long of a docking process.

We made our slow progress toward the marina with me up on the flybridge and Lisa down below readying fenders and dock lines, yet now able to easily talk to one another.

When we were first dating, I got transferred to New York for a six-month assignment, so we spent a lot of time on the phone during our courtship. Lisa has a fantastic telephone voice and I’ve always loved talking to her on the phone. These ship radios reminded me of those times and I found myself flirting with my wife of 22 years while helming the boat. We also took in the sights together of a new harbor and commented to each other about various boats we passed. I noticed that she was out of breath a lot as she hauled out fenders and muscled the dock lines in place, while I sat comfortably at the flybridge helm, meditating on the ever-changing sea below. I will enjoy this division of labor for as long as it lasts.

Docking is my least favorite activity on the boat. I’m always nervous even after 20 years of damage-free encounters. Having flirty small talk with the love of my life as we made our way toward the slip helped relax me. I found myself smiling and laughing with her as we carried out the much-practiced dance of docking … stopping the boat as we came even with our slip, spinning the stern with prop walk and prop wash, gauging the impact of wind and current, backing down slowly, small adjustments as needed with the bow and stern thrusters, in and out of gear to slowly move her into the berth, then a touch of forward to bring her to all stop.

This was the point where Lisa was supposed to say “the package is secured,” as I had suggested to her multiple times beforehand. But no, all she said was: “we’re in. All good.” She has some practicing to do on our code words and radio spy talk. But in the end, a safe stress-free landing without shouting is good enough for me.