A golf club walks into a bar and asks for a beer. The bartender refuses to serve him. “Why?” asks the club. ”Because shortly you’ll be a driver,” the barkeep says. Anybody can “drive” a boat, and the experienced skippers, such as you and my friend Scott, make being guests aboard a delightful experience. However, when the winds are unmercifully blowing you into the pier, leaving pieces of gelcoat on the pilings as the yacht bangs like a bumper car, and your mate is trying valiantly to fend off the bow while holding mooring lines, it’s time to think about the pleasures of flicking a switch as you maneuver gracefully into the tight slip. I was present as Scott nearly became a “justifiable homicide” victim, yelling at his mate as though he were Captain Bligh. I was also present on the maiden voyage with the new bow thruster. Marital bliss is wonderful. Let her buy you the thruster.