When I Make a Mistake...

...(please fill in the blank for yourself before you read further)

...I try not to blame other people for my mistake, but instead look for where I went wrong so I don't do the same thing again. And not just where I went wrong, but really, what is the root cause of the mistake? Am I spread too thin? Am I not paying enough attention? Am I giving someone too much leeway? Do I know enough about the surrounding issues, or do I need to educate myself more?

...I try not to blame myself, which is infinitely harder than not blaming someone else. I'm supposed to be better than mistakes. I pride myself on doing my job exceptionally well, so when I make mistakes, I have a desperately hard time not taking them personally.

...I try to make sure the solution doesn't just pawn the problem off on someone else, but instead, I try to fix my own mistakes. Maybe it's penance for making the mistake in the first place.

...when appropriate, I try to put things in perspective. I ask myself, is someone going to die from this mistake? If the answer is no, I try to not let it get me down as bad.

When others make mistakes around me, I like to remind them of the lessons from the book, "The Up Side of Down" by Megan McArdle and the TED talk "On Being Wrong" by Kathryn Schulz that I've linked to before, both about the value of failure, and how we learn from our mistakes more than we learn from our successes. 

When I make a mistake, all that goes totally out the window, and I beat myself liberally about the head and shoulders. There's lots of "I try"s in those statements above, because the truth of the matter is that I rant and throw temper tantrums laced liberally with foul-languaged invectives against the system, myself and the world around me when I make mistakes. And then I try to find solutions. Maybe one day I'll get over ranting before fixing, but I'm not there yet.

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Decisions

My sister suggested I write about how decisions get made onboard. She said, "A good theme to think about is, how do decisions get made, what information goes into each one? Since you must make a million decisions a day, that's a lot of posts." 

I can't really talk about specific decisions, though. The interesting ones are too operational or too personal to individuals. But there are a kadjillion decisions made every day onboard; some are easy, some require art, some require science, and some are just plain hard.

The Conning Officer has to decide on a boat launch course. Mostly environmental conditions factor into that decision -- where are the winds from? Where are the seas from? What course best shields the boat from both those things? Are the seas high enough to worry about shock-loading the lines as the boat initially goes into the water, or comes out of the water? Are we within launch parameters? How fast should we be going? Do we need a little more speed on to keep up with the movement of the water from the seas and swells, or should we slow down more to give the boat a better ride? If we go slower, we'll need to use more rudder to turn -- who is on the helm? How are they steering? Do they need to shift from auto mode to hand mode?

The Deck Officer has to decide when we're ready to launch the boat. Is the boat deck manned and ready? Has the coxswain briefed the CO about what the plan is for why we're launching the boat? Who is on the davit controls? Is it the right person for the conditions? How many new line handlers do we have? Has CIC done radio checks with the small boat? Do they all have their correct PPE (personal protective equipment) on? Are line handlers wearing watches, rings or other shiny things that might get caught in a runaway line and rip skin or digits off their hands?

The Deck and the Conn then have to work together to make sure the boat is safely put into the water. Communications, communications, communications. I don't know that anyone of the watchstanders break it down into such distinct and obvious pieces -- it's probably much more of the art for finding a boat launch course and actually getting the boat in the water.

Easy decision -- we authorize football jerseys on Sundays underway (but not at watchstations) so people can show a little team pride. Someone asked me today, what if my team is playing Monday Night Football? Can I wear my jersey then? Easy answer -- no. Why? Because I said so. We're already bending the rules a little about letting folks wear jerseys at all. 

Hard decision -- when and how is the right time to tell someone their performance or behavior is not up to standards? Do I have my information in order? Can I give them specific examples of what needs to change? Do I understand the situation well enough to even be able to judge if their actions are not good enough? What pieces am I missing that would help me understand what is keeping them from better performance? Do I have the time right now to get into it with them? Is it important enough to confront them with? What are the consequences if I don't? Is there a better person to do this?

I'm re-reading The Contrarian's Guide to Leadership, by Steven B. Sample. It's been a while since I read it, and I'm just finished the part about thinking grey. Suspending judgment on something until a decision has to be made, or maybe never making a judgment on something if you don't have to. His point is to take time to make decisions where time can be taken, which takes practice because we're schooled to think that making decisions quickly and decisively is the only way to succeed as leaders. It's a very yogic way of looking at things -- suspending judgment. I've had the opportunity to try it recently. I think I did ok. I could have done better.

There will be another decision tomorrow I can practice on.

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Disruption

Picture this:

We're in the middle of nowhere, deep blue sea all around. Deep blue, angry seas all around. Winds are steady at 24 knots; swells are rolling through at about six feet with a three foot wind chop on top. The water is covered with white caps as far as the eye can see in all directions.

An aircraft overhead reports a suspected narco-trafficker (aka, drug smuggler) in our vicinity in a profile go-fast vessel. We launch our small boat, and send them off to chase down the suspect vessel. They pound into the seas for nearly an hour. Amazingly, they spot the go-fast 500 yards off their bow.

They close the go-fast vessel, who has been DIW (dead in the water, pronounced dee-eye-double u) hoping to avoid detection. The go-fast takes off downswell trying to get away. Our small boat chases them.

The go-fast crew starts throwing stuff overboard. Our crew slows just enough to snag one package of what has been jettisoned for potential evidence, and then quickly cranks the speed back up to insane levels. They crash along closing the go-fast for about 15 minutes. The go-fast jettisons more packages, and lightens their load just enough to start edging away from our crew.

Our small boat finally breaks pursuit after sliding further and further astern of the go-fast. The go-fast screams off into the horizon, quickly disappearing from sight. Our small boat creeps back to the ship slowly upswell, trying for the best ride after being jolted crash after wave crash for nearly two hours. We recover the small boat; the team onboard is tired, wet, sore and hungry. The bale of suspected contraband sits imperiously on the wardroom table like a prized trophy.

Later that night, our sister ship comes along, sees the same go-fast, shoots out their engines from their helicopter and stops the go-fast.

We got the drugs; they got the people.

Just another day in paradise.

Sunset Colors

We delayed Evening Reports by about 35 minutes tonight, which meant I actually got up to the bridge for sunset. It's been a while since I made the time to watch a sunset, and it was an amazing one. 

The water was flat calm, with barely a ripple from the light wind. We were sending up a small wake to either side, but directly behind us, the water was smooth as glass. It reflected the lights and colors from the sky, even the muted white of the nearly full moon shone a subtle, sparkly pathway to the horizon.

The sun was bright orange as it moved beyond the curve of the earth. There were a few different types of clouds in the sky that mirrored its color. I have one more swallow tattoo to get, and I want it in sunset colors. The brilliant orangy-peach with magenta and pink streaks that luminesces from within, and the dark, shadowed purple that is the same family, but with all the yellow from the sun stripped out by the onset of night. 

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

No Sugar Days

I added a new goal to my patrol goal tracker. "No Sugar Days" during which I try to not eat any processed sugar. Honey and stevia don't count; I can eat those.

I started with this one pretty late in the patrol, and have five "sugar" days that I can sprinkle throughout the remainder of the patrol if I want to keep equal numbers of "sugar" and "no sugar" days. I'm on a six day "no sugar" streak right now. 

It's hard to do. The cooks make tasty looking desserts. I caved early on in trying to do this because of cannolis. I mean, it's almost inhuman to be asked to give up homemade cannolis. 

And candy is ubiquitous in the wardroom. The Wardroom Mess Treasurer, ENS J.B. says he budgets $300 per patrol for snacks. He tries to make some of them healthy snacks, like pretzels and nut mixes. But he also caves to popular pressure and buys candy. I didn't help my own cause any when we last stopped in GTMO. They had Halloween candy on display and I stocked up for the wardroom. I couldn't pass up the candy corn, hot tamales, and chocolate body parts (peanut butter ears, crunchy chocolate toes).

EO thinks it's bad for me. He says I'm a nicer person if I eat sugar. I think he may be mistaking eating sugar for just eating anything -- I admit to being hangry sometimes.

And part of me just laughs at the distractions I use to keep my mind busy while we're underway. 

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Shiphandling 101

It occurred to me this morning that I have a set of very basic shiphandling guidelines that I fall back on when I'm driving the ship in tight spots, or coaching someone who is driving the ship. While this post is titled "Shiphandling 101," it's really more like Shiphandling 101 Prep -- very basic concepts.

First, stand in one place. Make it the right place, but stand in one place as you make your approach to the pier. I rely heavily on what impromptu terrestrial ranges tell me about my forward momentum and lateral movement, and the only way that those ranges won't lie to you is if you stay in one place. Terrestrial ranges are fixed things on land that change position relative to each other as the ship moves through the water. Two flag poles, light posts, windmills, windows or antennas on buildings, trees, whatever -- as long as they're offset distance from one another to show how things are changing for me, they work. You can move as you need to, but you have to reset the ranges each time you do. So for me, it's easier just to stay mostly in one place.

Second, use your command voice. Especially if you're staying in one place. You can't walk into the bridge to give commands to the lee helm for the throttles or the helmsman for the rudder. It's ok to turn your head towards them, but even taking a step towards them can change the effectiveness of those terrestrial ranges. There also tends to be a lot of noise and other commotion on the bridge. The Conning Officer's voice is the one that counts for maneuvering the ship, and since maneuvering the ship safely is everyone's goal onboard, the Conning Officer must be heard above anyone and everyone else. A command voice is not yelling for the sake of yelling; it's loud and articulate. Standard commands help. 

Third, drive the stern of the ship. The bow is easier to pay more attention to because that's what will likely hit something first as you approach the pier, but the stern has a lot more weight behind it and that's where the power is. Even as I write this, it's hard for me to say I use this one all the time. I think I picked it up when I was on my first 378' which had a bow prop. So if you could put the stern where you wanted it, the bow prop would move the bow where it needed to go. But it's stuck with me, I think because so many new shipdrivers forget about the stern and only drive the bow.

Fourth, at slow speeds, use a lot of rudder or don't bother. I think this is a holdover from being on 110's, where the rudder is a little bitty thing. It was either all the way over, or rudder amidship. Anything in between was just a waste of effort. That's still pretty much how I drive when I'm maneuvering at slow speeds. Right full, left full or rudder amidship. I roll my eyes a little when new Conning Officers use five or ten degrees of rudder when they're going less than five knots.

Not really fifth because it's not a guideline, but it's a technique I use to remind myself how to use both engines. I dance a little. When I twist my right hip forward, I know I need to use starboard ahead, port back to twist the ship to the left. When I twist my left hip forward, I know I need to use port ahead, starboard back to twist the ship to the right. Silly, but it works for me. And it reminds me I have a stern. Which is important, because when you twist your bow one way, the stern moves in the other direction -- the ship is a rigid thing that way. 

I know there are more and more nuanced concepts. Forces acting on ships, use of lines, making environmental factors work for you, using all your tools, communications with the foc'sle and fantail...those are the Shiphandling 101. But I still fall back to these fundamentals each time I conn the ship. And driving a ship -- that's damn fun stuff!

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

SUBJ: DUTY TO PEOPLE - PY16 ADPL COMMANDER SELECTION BOARD RESULTS

Congratulations to each of the LCDRs selected by the subject board! Competition was likely very fierce, and you each undoubtedly earned your selection. Those of you who weren't selected still work incredibly hard at difficult jobs. My sincerest hope is that you compete successfully for promotion next year. I feel blessed that I was among the 176 LCDRs selected to make O5.

I received a number of great emails about this message today, including "They know not what they do" and "Brace yourselves...detailers are coming." And I got emails from a slew of folks that I was delighted, if a little surprised, to hear from. Surprised because we had either limited interactions, or interactions a long, long time ago. I think that's part of the beauty of the smallness of the Coast Guard, though -- people remember and reach out.

It would be great for me to go into some full blown discussion of zones and opportunities for selection and above zone and reordering and promotion years and how long I think it'll take to actually pin on CDR based on my ranking and...whoosh, I'm tired just saying all that stuff. And CG-12A does a much better job of explaining the technicalities anyway. Just read their Officer Corps Management Plan on their Officer Management Sharepoint site if you want the details.

One of the great things about all the congratulatory emails is getting the ones from people who mentored me along the way. I've gotten emails from former COs and mentors who knew me as a brand new LTJG and young LT. It's given me a chance to thank them for their guidance and leadership. And as I said to my family when I emailed them the news, "Thank you all so very much for the love and encouragement over the years. It's only with your support that I've been able to do this and that it means much of anything at all."