I’ve been racing aboard a new boat this summer, and it’s gotten me thinking a lot about crew dynamics and what makes a good teammate. Truth be told, I’ve sailed with a lot of great people over the years, but it’s hard to pin down exactly what makes someone great to sail with. I have loved sailing with people who were chill as much those who were as high energy, quiet or chatty, experts or beginners, racers or cruisers. However, when it comes to the best, I think they all have two things in common: being proactive about taking care of the boat and thoughtful about taking care of each other. 

Back during the Volvo Ocean Race days, there was a video posted of Nick Dana talking about bailing a VO65. It’s a tongue-in-cheek explainer on his master technique for scooping water, but it stayed with me because, intentionally or not, he buried two salient pieces of advice in it. 

First, he jokes that he was originally brought on the crew to be the team’s designated bailer. It was still a few years until I would be offshore myself, but even I knew that being a professional bailer wasn’t a thing. 

Still, what I heard was, “if you’re not shy about doing a job that no one else wants to do, you’ll always get an invite back.” All these years later, I think that advice still holds true, both on the boat and in general.  

Second, he says you need to embrace the hate; embrace the water and the bailing because that’s the only way to make it go faster. The frustration fuels the physical effort, but also there’s something to be said for the zen approach of simply accepting that something sucks and learning to be okay with that. We sailors are already primed for this. There are a lot of things you just have get used to on the water, from the peculiarities of a marine head to the sleep schedule on passage. There’s an unattributed quote that says, “If you choose not to find joy in the snow, you will have less joy in your life, but still the same amount of snow.” If you can find a way to embrace the bailing, the same amount of water needs to get scooped, but you’ll be a lot less miserable doing it. 

Over the years, this idea of embracing a job that no one else wants to do has become an intentional practice for me. Instead of bailing, packing kites is my chore of choice. Regardless of whether or not I’m the bow person on the boat, I’m running tapes, zipping, and stacking. It may not be my job in any official capacity, but I make sure that when they need checking, doing, or redoing, I’m the first person to jump in. 

Funnily enough, I’ve been feigning enthusiasm for so long that I’m not entirely sure it’s fake anymore. Turns out you can find joy in any kind of metaphorical snow if you embrace it. 

I’m certainly not perfect and occasionally people beat me to “my” job, but mentally taking ownership of this one small thing cuts down on any feet dragging when it comes time to do it, not to mention that the boat runs smoother when the little things are taken care of regularly and efficiently. It can be anything beyond your regular responsibilities: doing dishes, managing fenders, refilling everyone’s water bottles, neatening up the spaghetti in the cockpit. These little things all add up to a well run boat and a crew that feels empowered and appreciated. 

At the end of the day, sailing with a crew—whether it’s two or twenty people—requires everyone to do their share or, ideally, a little more than their share. This can be hard when you’re, say, three days into a passage and low on sleep, but proactively assigning yourself a few things to look after is an easy way to make sure you’re doing your part. 

So pick a job. Pick two. You’ll always be a better teammate for it. 

Lydia can be reached by email at lydia.mullan@firecrown.com or @lydiaatsea on Instagram

This article was originally published in the August/September 2026 issue.