Who’s This Guy with the Loafers and No Boat?
Well, hi there. I’m the political science professor without a boat—and yes, I realize that might be strike one in a boating forum. I teach at a mid-sized university on the East Coast, the kind of place where the seagulls occasionally outnumber the students and the cafeteria proudly serves “New England clam chowder” with unsettling frequency. I’ve been at it for almost two decades, guiding undergrads through the minefield of Machiavelli, Marx, and modern media with equal parts patience and caffeine.
Now, why am I here, on a forum dedicated to boats and motors, instead of pontificating on power structures or grading yet another paper that begins with “Since the dawn of time…”?
Because, like many of you, I’ve got a dream that smells like saltwater and sounds like an outboard engine coming to life on a crisp morning.
The Floating Dream That’s Still Tied to the Dock
To be clear, I don’t own a boat. Not even a dinghy. What I do have is an ever-growing file of bookmarked listings for used Boston Whalers and a habit of squinting longingly at marinas like a dog watching squirrels. I also have no idea what kind of engine I’d need, what “trolling speed” means, or whether I’m supposed to name the thing before or after it hits the water. But I’m here to learn.
This community looked like the kind of place where I could ask dumb questions without getting keelhauled for it. If there’s anything academia has taught me, it’s that learning doesn’t stop when you’re the one holding the whiteboard marker.
Between Boat Shows and Office Hours
So why does a professor of political theory want a boat? Probably for the same reason some of my students ask me to
help me write my thesis and then show up with TikTok open during office hours. We’re all looking for freedom, clarity, and maybe just a bit of quiet in a noisy world. There’s something about the open water that feels like the opposite of committee meetings and email threads.
I spend most of my week helping students make sense of political systems and how power shifts, sometimes gently, sometimes with a tidal force. But outside the classroom, I find myself drawn to simpler systems—ones where the wind, current, and a good anchor tell the story. Maybe it's my version of midlife rebellion, but I’ve started seeing metaphors for politics in everything nautical: balance of power? Try balancing a kayak in wind chop.
Coffee, Grading, and Boat Motors I Don’t Understand
Now, full disclosure—I know next to nothing about motors. You could drop a two-stroke, four-stroke, or twenty-stroke in front of me, and I’d nod appreciatively while slowly backing away to Google it. But I’m eager. And stubborn. Two traits that helped me through grad school and now motivate me to lurk in engine threads even when half the comments read like a foreign language.
I’ve even started editing my own writing differently since discovering this forum. There’s a clarity in boating instructions I admire: "Secure the line. Check the bilge. Don’t die." Academic writing, on the other hand, sometimes forgets we’re talking to humans. Just the other day, I found myself editing a student’s paper with an online tool at
https://kingessays.com/essay-editor/, and I thought, “Huh. If this can fix a run-on about Rousseau, maybe it could translate boat manuals for people like me.”
Why I'm Here (Besides the Obvious Daydreaming)
Mostly, I’m here because I’m curious. Curiosity is the best part of teaching, and it’s what brings me to new places like this forum. I love learning from people who know their stuff. I love seeing the pride in a perfectly restored 1972 Grady-White or watching someone troubleshoot their alternator like it’s no big deal.
I’m hoping to soak up advice, ask the right (or wrong) questions, and maybe someday even contribute something useful. I may not be able to swap carburetors or weigh in on oil-to-gas ratios, but I can tell you how Thomas Hobbes would’ve felt about HOA regulations at your local marina. (Short version: not a fan.)
What I Can Offer in Return
If you’re a fellow dreamer, or even a seasoned skipper who likes a break from all the gear talk, I’m your guy for a good story, a decent metaphor, or a chat about how Plato might’ve handled a bilge pump. And if your teenager ever says they want to study political science, I can give you the five-minute crash course that won’t put them off completely.
So here I am. A professor with a boat obsession, no boat, and more questions than answers. But hey—that’s where the good learning happens, right?
Thanks for Letting Me Drift In
I’ll be around the forum. Probably chiming in awkwardly at first, maybe tossing out the occasional academic joke (you’ve been warned), and trying to keep up with you seasoned folks who can talk props and pontoons in your sleep.
Until then, I’ll keep reading, dreaming, and maybe start practicing my knots with a pair of shoelaces under my desk. If that’s not a metaphor for something, I don’t know what is.
