Sensing Without Sight

I had the honor of being a sailing mentor to three blind women for a day. My yacht club sponsored our first sailing event for the visually challenged. Five vessels went out with at least three eager blind adults, two experienced crew and a sighted helper, on each boat.

After one of the crew guided the boat out into the marina, the helm was to be turned over to our guests, one at a time. One young lady who was with us, Kelly, had been sailing a couple of times. Since this was my first time handing the wheel over to someone who could not see, I felt better with Kelly starting the rotation while we were inside the marina.

It was a beautiful summer Sunday afternoon and was very crowded in the marina. Kelly began by talking to me about what she heard around us. She knew there was a powerboat on our left, and she heard something on our right. It was another sailboat, not making any more noise than a little water rushing by the hull. I was amazed already.

I fed her information on where we were in the marina, drawing the layout on the palm of her hand, mentioned how far it would be before we would have to tack (turn the boat so we would not hit the breakwater), and how hard she would have to turn the wheel. She commented that she could feel the wind on her left cheek, and correctly announced that we were on port tack.

(Note: While sailing, the boat is on port tack when the wind flows over the left side of the boat and the boat is on starboard tack when the wind flows over the right side of the boat.)

After my guidance through one set of port and starboard tacks, she was feeling the wind move to her opposite cheek, counted the spokes to turn the steering wheel (her idea) and to get the steering wheel back to the center, off she went tacking her way out of the marina to the open ocean. There was very little input from me. She knew when the boat was sailing at its’ best and adjusted the wheel when she needed to.

When our next blind guest, Barbara, took the wheel, she had been listening to our conversation. Barbara had never been on a boat before. She began by telling me what she heard, asked when we needed to make our first tack, and counted the spokes to turn. She then began timing her tacks, knowing when we needed to go the other way. I was amazed once again. She guided the boat as if she had been doing it for years.

Soon our sighted helper took the wheel to give it a try. She immediately turned the boat head to wind (the bow facing directly into the wind where a boat cannot sail) and stopped our progress. I asked her where she was going and she told me “over there!” pointing at the exit of the marina. She was, of course, the only one who could see it, so she decided to just go there. After an explanation that the boat could not sail in that direction, she needed continuous guidance to understand the theory of sailing and to keep the boat moving. She had no feel for what we had been doing at all.

By the end of the day, our blind guests drove the boat all over Santa Monica Bay, the open ocean, all with very little guidance from anyone. They got the feel of the boat no matter where the swells were coming from or what angle of sail we were on.

I was not sure who was mentoring who! I thought I was there to teach sailing to some blind women, but instead I learned about human spirit, and how our senses can help us overcome challenges.

Now, I am back at work designing a new Website for a client. All I can think about is how Kelly, Hildi, and Barbara utilized their abilities to “see” where we were going, sense what was around us, and how they handled a 36’ sailboat in the open ocean with very little input. I had never seen anything like it in my three years of teaching sailing.

How can this wonderful experience with my three blind mentors translate to the flat computer screen I am looking at? What can I learn from it to help me build a virtual three dimensional Web world that they can see, sense, and handle? It seems to me that learning to sail a 36 foot sailboat was easier for them than it is to sit down at a computer, go online and accomplish tasks. I feel, as a Web designer, I am one of the reasons it is so difficult for them. I want to see my friends enjoy their online experience as much as they did their day on the water.

I am not quite sure how to completely translate what I experienced a few days ago into the full Web experience that these ladies deserve. Just a little alt text won’t cut it anymore. I will have to work very hard to enrich my virtual experience designs to overfill their overextended senses.

I am working on it. Any ideas?