Strategy vs. Tactics

I remember being in high school chemistry class and being outraged that my teacher expected me to memorize information about individual elements in the periodic table. One day I raised my hand and asked, “Why do we need to memorize this when we can look it up on the table?” The teacher looked at me, paused and answered dryly, “Because there will be a quiz on it tomorrow.”

Even before computers it seemed to me that if I worked with charted information I would have a copy of the chart I could refer to. I didn’t memorize much in that class and I got C’s and D’s but I’ve never had an occasion when I thought that I would have been better off if I had the table taking up a corner of my brain.

If I’m going to use data all the time I just remember it because it’s repeated so often, otherwise I find myself bored and resistant. So, I’m the guy that has the sticker on my boat with all the racing flags and what color means rounding a mark what way. Not only do I not have to memorize anything, I always have a way to double check whatever gets accidently inscribed into my memory by repetition.

Racing strategy requires me to remember things – a series of observations about wind direction, which position, inside or outside, gets lifted in a header, competitors’ standings relative to mine, the median wind direction this race, etc. So is it any wonder that I and any other sailors who aren’t blessed with notebook memories start focusing too intensely on tactics during a race – nothing to remember but the rules.

I catch my attention drifting away from even trying to bother with the shifts or median direction and seeing if I can grab the inside on the next mark. I forget to locate my nearest competitors and sail against the guy who’s next up the beat. Not a good move if I want to move up. The leverage power is in the strategy.

This is when I get my butt out to practice and slow everything down. I run down to the leeward end of the lake and hold long tacks back to the top buoy. I keep bringing my attention back to strategy and away from the more in-my-face stuff that’s happening with my boat or other boats. It’s like meditation – no advantage in berating myself when I catch myself lost in the boundary between speed and stall, just return my attention to the focus of this practice beat.

Like practicing meditation, practicing a systematic process of gathering information means it’s available in the heat of a race with less effort. This year I’ve actually found I’m catching myself just noticing shifts without catching myself working to remember to look.