CAN YOU SLOGO?

Can you Slogo?
By Barb Hansen
September 2007


Do you know what a slogo is? A new dance? A new type of electronic device? A local gourmet delicacy? Nope. None of the above.

Slogo is the nickname that advertising gurus use for a slogan that becomes part of a company’s logo. Creating the perfect company slogan ain’t easy. There are good ones. There are bad ones. And perfection doesn’t exist on our planet. Even the best ones usually hold up only a few years. McDonalds advertises so much it changes its slogan every three years or so just to stay culturally fresh.

Talking about creating company slogans is inside-baseball or, more appropriately, inside-boating, but it’s on my mind, on my mind, on my mind. It is sort of the linguistic version of the potato chip slogan – Bet you can’t eat just one.

But … ta da … Southwest Florida Yachts will be 25 years old in 2009 and Vic and I thought it would be nice if we had a real company slogan just like the big companies. We’ll put it on ads and brochures, websites and letterhead, just like the big companies.

With a company slogan our yacht chartering, yacht school and yacht sales enterprise tucked away on a pretty little Florida tidal creek will be right up there with Rice Krispies’ Snap, Crackle and Pop, United Airlines’ Fly the Friendly Skies, and Nike’s Just Do It.

But, like I said, creating the ideal company slogan is not easy. Kentucky Fried Chicken has a great slogan, Finger-lickin’ good. But, alas, American slang doesn’t always translate into other languages very well. In Chinese finger-lickin’ good became “Eat your fingers off.” And The Pepsi Generation slogan somehow became, in China, “Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the grave.”

The experts say a slogan is like mental shorthand for what the company sells or what it does or what they want you to do or feel. Thus you get slogans like Xerox’ The Document Company, McDonald’s I’m Loving It, Macintosh’s Think Different, and one of Vic’s favorites, Home Depot – You can do it. We can help.

At our company somebody can learn to operate a yacht, charter a yacht, then buy a yacht, and some even put their yacht back into charter service to offset the expense. So we needed a slogan that generally rewarded all three operations.

After much brainstorming and deliberating over long lists late at night in the, ahem, executive offices, we have selected our first company slogan.

The new slogan, underscored with stylistic blue “waves” is – Experience the Boating Life! It is positioned just below the Southwest Florida Yachts logo. We like it because it encourages individuals to investigate the boating way of life. And, after all, this is what we’re selling. It’s not just a product or a service; it’s a lifestyle

Vic and I are as excited today about what we do at Southwest Florida Yachts as we were when we started almost 25 years ago. We continue to be thrilled helping people get into boating and seeing them adopt boating as a life-long adventure, with the proper skills and experience under their keels.

All that said, may I leave you with this medical advice? If you ever have to create a company slogan, take two aspirins and don’t call me in the morning.

And do me a favor. Don’t translate our slogan into another language.

SKIPAGENERATIONAL COMMUNICATIONS

Skipagenerational Communications Phenomenon
By Barb Hansen
August 2007

Grandparents and grandchildren communicate in a special kind of way.

Here’s a for instance: The grandmother is on the floor with a four-year-old boy building a Lego garage for his new fire truck. She even makes truck engine and siren-like noises.

And here’s the granddad with his five-year-old granddaughter holding a birthday party for Barbie and her friends. Who would have thought a granddad could fuss over Rapunzel’s long hair?

This kind of communication involves words, certainly, but also hand gestures, and probably some sounds that would sound weird unless you were also privy to this special wave length.

I am not a doctor. I arrange yacht charters and liveaboard yacht courses for a living. But I am a keen observer of human behavior. I call this Skipagenerational Communications Phenomenon (SCP).

This is not to knock the terrific two-generational communications I’ve noted in some families, especially boating families. The Fort family of Spartanburg, South Carolina comes to mind. Dad, mom, daughter and two sons took courses at Florida Cruising and Sailing School. The older son went sailing while the rest took Powerboat 101-102. After they returned home, I got a super, nice letter from the dad thanking us for the courses and I could tell by the tone that this is a family generous with its compliments to others and to each other.

But Skipagenerational Communications Phenomenon is different. I’ve asked grandparents about it and they confirm that it exists. One suggested the possibility of a special gene that kicks in when a grandchild enters the life of a grandparent. “I didn’t realize how connected I would feel to a child that wasn’t my own except that of course, it is my child, isn't it?”

Grandkids, meanwhile, may wonder what the fuss is all about. But when GPs are passing out pocket or purse change and Cheetos, one doesn’t argue, does one?

Parents, busy with what parents do and grateful for the free baby-sitting service, usually just stay out of the way.

The GP-GK connection stays strong through the years. Good anecdotal evidence of this occurs when the grandchildren grow out of toddlerhood and grandparents take them on a cruise.

Recently, we chartered a vessel for a cruise by three generations of the Family Trachtenberg of Pennsylvania. Grandparents. Parents. Grandson, 7. Perfect.

Granddad Joe Trachtenberg wrote me that this was one of the best vacations the family ever had. When they put in at South Seas Plantation’s marina they saw manatees all around them. Do you think that made an impression on a seven-year-old? Do you think Grandmother took note? Oh. My. Yes.

Maybe a seven-year-old camped out under the stars on the foredeck. Maybe he got to wear his favorite T-shirt all week. I didn’t ask.

Something uplifting happened. Perhaps a certain young person got to stay up later than he ever has in his whole life and listen to his granddad tell ghost stories. I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that the grandson got to sit at the helm station with Granddad and steer a Mainship 43 for a few minutes. Or, that Grandmother Trachtenberg made her very special pancakes one morning. By special request.

So far as I know the scientific literature hasn’t discussed SCP but marketing people are clearly aware of it. I've seen advertisements for multi-generational vacations for Disney, dude ranches and cruises.

Three-generation vacations always give extended families a chance to reconnect. Mom and Dad get a little break from taking care of the kids 24/7. Grandma and Grandpa treasure the time that the entire family is together.

But that special communications link between grandparents and grandchildren is, truly, the two-part epoxy that glues all three generations together so tightly.

PARIS HILTON'S CHANGES IN ATTITUDE

Paris Hilton’s Changes in Attitude
By Barb Hansen
July 2007

The doctor is IN.

It will be interesting to see if Paris Hilton’s change of heart has legs. I tend to doubt it.

She told Larry King after her 23-day incarceration that she was going to change. When he asked her what she would like to change about herself she told him that when she got nervous her voice became higher-pitched. She’d like to change that, she said.

What does this have to do with boating? Here’s what: she also complained that her jail cell was just an 8 X 12 and I thought, wow, if that were a cabin on a boat, it would be huge.

Unfortunately for her, Paris Hilton doesn’t have much at all to do with boating except, perhaps, an occasional photo shoot on a vessel. Neither, so far as I know, do two other Hollywood tabloiders also in need of attitude adjustments, Britney Spears and Lindsay Lohan.

Too bad for them because if they were regular boaters I think it would help them stay on an even keel and avoid angering policemen on the mean streets of L.A. at 5 in the morning.

Think about it. How many times have you read in the paper, “The suspect, an avid yachtsman, was jailed on charges of bank robbery.” Never. Or, “The accused is an Olympic sailing champion.” Doesn’t fit, does it?

Truly, boating helps us keep our heads screwed on straight.

It is a change of scenery, at least. Boating gets us away from what reminds us of work. It is for when we’re up to our earlobes in cell calls and our inbox is jammed with unanswered messages. When you’re at home and you’re getting calls from the office, it’s time.

Boating is anti-anxiety medicine and we don’t even need a prescription. It requires a certain amount of physical effort as well as mental concentration. This keeps the worries away. A little anxiety even helps one lift the anchor.

Sleep on a boat is the best medicine, the epitome of rest and relation. (An 8 X 12 space is plenty big, Paris.) Alas, jail cells don’t give beds that gentle rock-me-to-sleep motion that you get in a boat.

Boating is, for the most part, wholesome, nurturing and a way for families and friends to grow closer.

Boating is the best R and R, in my book, and it’s not just me saying this. A few years ago researchers asked Americans about the quality of their lives. Boat owners said they were happier and healthier, too. Boat owners reported they experienced greater self-esteem, enjoyed life more, and had better sex lives. Non-boat owners were more prone to feeling useless, lonely, unhappy and tired.

Another survey suggested that children who got involved in boating were healthier, physically and psychologically, than their non-boating counterparts. It is too bad that Paris’ parents didn’t get her involved in a boating program when she was in their charge.

Well, anyway, rehab on a boat is probably too late for Miss Hilton and friends. Besides, I’m not sure I’d wish her on the boating industry. Her behavior suggests a different kind of “getaway.” She could ask Britney and Lindsay for their personal recommendations. Maybe she could get some voice lessons, too.

VIVE LA DIFFERENCE

Vive la Difference
By Barb Hansen
June 2007

Michael Kearney of Plymouth, England chartered the yacht Markat for a week in March. Later he wrote to say he really enjoyed cruising our Sanibel-Captiva barrier island paradise. But, also, he wanted us to know that the “Miserable Mile” was not as bad as he imagined.

The Miserable Mile is a stretch of Gulf Intracoastal Waterway that runs generally east and west across the bottom of Pine Island. Sometimes the tide runs pretty fast and a skipper must make sure his vessel stays in the channel. That’s about it. It’s not exactly a mile and it’s not miserable…most of the time.

I realize that it has a lot to do with what you’re used to. Michael wrote that in his homeport, Plymouth, the water is 90 feet deep at high tide. In Plymouth, they don’t worry about running aground.

I guess it’s human nature to imagine the worst. Old sea charts designated unexplored waters with the sketches and the warning, “Here Be Monsters.” Today, when some boating writer calls a section of channel the “Miserable Mile” our imaginations conjure up the equivalent of monsters. But, here in Southwest Florida, If your vessel moves outside the channel, it will not break into pieces on a rocky cliff. Get too far adrift and you could scrape the bottom on a sand flat. That’s not good. But everything will be okay. Monsters do not lurk there.

Caution is a virtue. It can keep us alive. But being too cautious can keep us from doing things we ought to do. Most of the cruising people I know strike a good balance between caution and courage. They recognize the risks. They plan what to do in an emergency. But they don’t let their caution turn into paralyzing fear. Cruising new water fuels their dream machine. They do the research. They plan. They take precautions, if necessary. They cruise. I suspect Michael Kearney is one of those careful-and-adventuresome skippers.

Michael learned about cruising with Southwest Florida Yachts in a British publication, Motor Boat and Yachting, which put Southwest Florida in its top ten list of bareboat yacht charter destinations. The article also noted that when Brits and other European readers think of Florida, they think of Florida’s East Coast, usually Miami and Fort Lauderdale. For a welcome change, the article suggested that readers consider chartering on Florida’s West Coast. They took the words right out of my mouth.

Florida’s East Coast is high-energy, high-rise. Florida’s West Coast is a laid-back, low-rise sanctuary of green and blue surprises. Vive la difference.

In the shallow, sandy cruising water of Southwest Florida you can look into the clear water and see the bottom. Maybe you’ll spook a ray from his sandy hiding place. Over there, you could see a leopard ray gracefully moving across the grass flat. A dolphin or two will surf your bow wake. On low tide, you’ll pass sand flats and oyster bars hosting roseate spoonbills, herons, ibis, wood storks, and egrets. Look up and you’re likely to see the magnificent frigatebird with its seven-foot wingspan drawing figure eights in the air. Anchored up, you might see a manatee family swim curiously by your vessel.

Michael said he’d be back to cruise with us again and we look forward to outfitting him again. I hope he tells all of his cruising mates in Plymouth and beyond. The stars are aligned well this year for Europe-to-U.S. vacation visits. The Euro-to-dollar exchange rate makes visiting the U.S. a bargain. Florida’s low summer rates make it even more of a bargain.

Thousands of Europeans visit and enjoy our area every summer. In the restaurants and shops I hear the enthusiasm in the voices of Brits, Germans and Frenchmen. But I suspect they don’t know what Michael Kearney knows. It’s even better in a boat.

Vive la difference.

BOATING'S LESSONS FOR SUCCESSFUL LIVING

Boating’s Lessons for Successful Living
By Barb Hansen
May 2007

For almost 25 years I’ve been booking students for Florida Sailing & Cruising School. Some time along the way as I watched students work with their instructors something occurred to me. I think it’s important.

Walking along the dock I’d overhear the instructors showing students how to set the anchor properly, how to radio a bridge tender to open the span, how to diagnose an engine problem, or how to back a big wide boat into a tight little slip.

And over and over what I also heard the instructors say were things like “plan ahead,” “accept responsibility,” and “know the rules.”

And what occurred to me was this: They were teaching exactly the same things you would hear if you attended one of those success-in-life seminars. Set goals, they’d say. Prepare, practice, challenge yourself. Be a team player, accept responsibility, follow the rules. Even, get your sleep. And, importantly, laugh a lot.

So over time I became even more convinced that the big lessons we need to learn to lead a successful life are the very same lessons we need to know to be a successful boater. And vice versa. I’m sure that other recreations require many of the same skills but I can’t think of any except boating that combines all so thoroughly.

My theory got an endorsement of sorts last year when the Harvard family of Roswell, N.M. came to Florida in August to take a six-day live-aboard yacht course and cruise. The students were parents Jeff and Jane and their two adults-in-training, Jeremy, 15, and Julia, 11. Captain Gary Graham, their instructor, said the Harvards were terrific students and applied themselves individually and as team members to make their week aboard successful.

Jeff Harvard said he liked the continuing series of challenges and solving them in a relaxed, non-stressful environment. Jane told me she liked the adventure of it, the confidence building, and the opportunity for the family to pull together for a common goal. Of course, this was all music to my ears.

I don’t mean to give all the credit to our boating school. I believe that boating itself is a good teacher. Capt. Chris Day, another one of our instructors, tells the story of a rich investor in the northeast who lost all his money and took to drinking. His wife made him leave home. A good friend gave him an old sailboat with no sails, just a place to sleep really. Something inspired him to make it move. He went to Wal-Mart and bought some blue tarps with grommets. He put up the mast and his tarps and left Boston, heading south. Along the way he encountered many challenges, all of which he managed to solve. Finally, years later, he arrived in Key West and when he arrived, he was sober. In fact, he had given up drinking entirely.

In the last 23 years we’ve had many students including some tough characters who probably wouldn’t sit still for a life-success seminar but who would bust their fanny to excel at an assigned task from the instructor.

Our liveaboard school is about better sailing and cruising, and not about leading a successful life, but whether students make the connection or not, learning to operate a yacht can be like the honey that helps the medicine go down.

I like to think that all of our boating school students return to their various worlds better people as well as better boaters.

TOMBSTONES FOR BUSY PEOPLE

Tombstones for Busy People
By Barb Hansen
April 1, 2007
Revised from July 1, 2005

This nation has a big problem. I call it The Big O.

No, not obesity. Overscheduling.

Simon and Garfunkel diagnosed this ailment years ago with their Feeling Groovy song.

Slow down, you move too fast. You’ve got to make the morning last. Just kicking down the cobble stones, lookin’ for fun and feelin’ groovy.

The problem was clearly evident 40 years ago when that song was popular. It’s much worse now. We try to do too much in not enough time. To get more done we even cut back on sleep. I read that 100 years ago Americans averaged 9.5 hours of sleep a night. Today, we average 7 hours and many “get by” on much less than that.

Why do we do this to ourselves? We do it, psychologists tell us, because it makes us feel important. We are sending a message to others. "I’m 24/7, man. Notice how busy I am? I am really important."

Now we don’t even do just one thing at a time. We multi-task. We carry on a phone conversation while typing an email message and also keeping an ear cocked for breaking news on the cable channel. Even the TV channel is multi-tasking. There’s a split screen showing two things going on at once, plus an audio track, plus text of news bits crawling across the bottom of the screen.

But it gets worse. Some too-busy people overschedule their vacations, too. As the chief cook and concierge at a certain yacht chartering firm, I have seen The Big O disease reach problematical proportions. Power cruisers are the worst. They are more point A to point B types. Crank up the RPMs, get me to the marina on time, and all that. Sailors are much more patient. They know you can’t depend on the wind and while they don’t mind starting the auxiliary from time to time, they’d really rather be sailing with no particular place to go. Thanks Chuck Berry

I won’t name names but we had a customer, an accomplished boater, who was qualified to skipper one of our trawlers without a captain. He’s a fast-charging, get ‘er done, check-it-off kind of guy. He arrived four hours late and missed his appointment to get checked out on the boat and was miffed nobody would stay late to do it. After his check out the next morning, anxious to get back on his self-imposed schedule, he pulled the vessel out of the slip and navigated right into the teeth of a heavy rain storm.

The best prescription I know for The Big O is cruising. Your hometown paper is not delivered to the aft deck. Cell phones don’t always get a signal. The TV screen is small; reception is poor. If you don't get the message, you're listening too hard. Tap, tap, Mr. and Mrs. Chronic Busy. You. Turn off the phone and the TV. Pick up a novel instead of a newspaper. Close your eyelids and drift into a delicious nap. Get that groovy feeling again. Just last week a charter client asked if they could take the TV off the boat for their cruise. That’s the idea.

There is another way out, not so groovy, not so inviting. It’s called The Big Sleep. It’s very popular among The Big O set and if you are one of those overscheduled types you are most welcome to engrave one of these sayings on your tombstone for use at the appointed time, fast approaching.

Notice how important I am.

I've got so much to do.

Or (with apologies to Emily Dickinson) this paraphrase of one of her famous poems:

Because I would not stop for Life-- He kindly stopped for me--

ALASKA CRUISING ADVICE: THINK SMALL

Alaska Cruising Advice: Think Small
By Barb Hansen
March 2007

Here’s the television commercial I’d like to make.

The camera is looking down on the Southeast Alaskan shoreline from 50 miles in the sky. On the screen and we see the words, “Alaska Cruising Advice.”

The camera zooms in and now we recognize snow-capped mountains and glaciers curving down to the sea. More slowly now, the camera moves in closer and reveals a quiet cove with a gleaming yacht and five kayaks paddling from the mother ship toward the shore. You hear majestic music, and the high, clear call of a whale.

Abruptly the music stops. We get a view of a massive cruise ship out in the open sea. It slowly moves out of sight. Then the camera and the music return to the tranquil, happy scene in the cove.

Then, one by one, words roll up on the screen and park themselves into one sentence--“Friends-don’t-let-friends-see-Alaska-on-a-cruise-ship.”

Vic and I are convinced. In 2004, to mark our 20th anniversary, we did a little personal research. From Seattle we flew to Sitka, about 90 minutes southeast of Anchorage. We boarded Ursa Major, a 65-foot, Malahide wooden hull trawler. It’s the perfect boat to see Alaska.

The Ursa Major took us graciously along this spectacular American coastline. She turned into quaint harbors with fishing villages and nosed into fjords with calving glaciers and waterfalls. We watched sea lions, otters, eagles and even a mother bear with three cubs moving along the shoreline.

You need to cruise Alaska at least once in your lifetime. And, when you do, here’s a word of advice. Don’t book passage on a cruise ship. Big cruise ships don’t fit in and don’t dare enter the best coves. Big cruise ships don’t let you slide a kayak into the water to explore a waterfall or walk the shoreline to some hot springs. Big cruise ships don’t let you put a fishing line in the water to catch a fresh fish for dinner.

Big cruise ships move at night past scenery passengers never get to see. Ursa Major overnights quietly in isolated coves. While big ship sheep shuffle down the buffet line, guests on Ursa Major applaud the chef’s cold smoked salmon, salmon caviar, and stuffed grape leaves. They fall asleep to the unique sound of a remote wilderness. In the morning, their alarm clock is fresh-baked bread. At lunch, between spoonfuls of hearty homemade soup, they share experiences with new friends.

Those who know how much I love cruising Southwest Florida must be thinking, “Is this the same Barb Hansen who writes about the glories of cruising the beautiful Sanibel-Captiva-Useppa-Cayo Costa?”

No worries, Mate. I’m still Southwest Florida’s number one cruising fan. But once or twice in our short lives I think we owe it to ourselves to cruise the second most wonderful place on the water planet – Alaska.

Vic and I are hosting another cruise through Southeast Alaska this summer. If you would like to join us aboard the Ursa Major, just give me a call. We have cabins reserved.

Think of it as a gourmet cruise, with friends, on a kind vessel that is just the right size to experience America’s last piece of real shoreline wilderness.