With a "Doggy on Deck," author turns to life jacket, artificial turf

Boating protocol holds that you are perfectly welcome on to a boat — once you have been invited. You've heard the drill, if you don't know it: "Permission to come aboard?" you ask, unless the skipper has beaten you to the draw with, "Welcome aboard."

Not all dogs have such etiquette, but they should and can. A dog on deck can be a loose cannonball with claws, sliding about, shedding all over and, at worse, going overboard. Not all dogs know how to swim and even those that do may not fare well in 50-degree water and whitecaps. The crew might not fare well either.

Then there's the challenge of where to take a boat-bound dog for, you know, "a walk."

But there are ways to reconcile the best friend with the best hobby, to the benefit of all involved.

"It enhances the whole experience," says Jessica Stone, a lecturer at the University of Washington School of Business and author of "Doggy on Deck: Life at Sea with a Salty Dog" (Penchant Press International, 2007).

Stone started sailing 16 years ago, taking her dog on the first outing while on sabbatical in the U.S. Virgin Islands. She and the dog, a border-collie mix named Kip McSnip, went on to a full-bore nautical passion that included buying a 41-foot Morgan Out Island, which a year and a half ago they sailed across the South Pacific. Along the way, Stone tackled just about every challenge a dog on board can pose and developed solutions for most all of them, from seasickness to fleas to bathroom breaks.

For starters, don't assume a dog, even an alleged water dog, wants to go boating. Instead, introduce a dog to a boat the way you would a child. Start with short trips, bring plenty of treats. Carry along a water bowl.

"It's easy to find a beer anywhere," notes Stone, "but it's not always easy to find a bowl of water for the dog."

And as with children, a personal flotation device is de rigueur. My own dog, a rescued Lab-mix named Lily, is an uncharacteristically lousy swimmer and afraid of chest-deep water. I suspect she would panic and drown in minutes if it weren't for her life vest. The vest also makes a dog easier to find in the waves and offers a handle to help raise the dog from the water to the deck.

Moreover, says Stone, a dog's life jacket gives it a layer of insulation in the cold local waters and provides a handle for attaching a safety line.

But for all the value of a life vest, Stone finds potty language is more common among the maritime dog set.

"It comes up every time I give a talk," she says.

Housebroken dogs, it seems, have a real problem pulling the trigger when away from the comfortable turf of a local lawn and tend to hold it on board, as if for the sake of decorum.

For a while Stone simply, but not always easily, brought the dog ashore in a dinghy. Knowing that wouldn't always be possible, she tried various tricks to convince Kip it was OK to use the deck as a toilet, including imported sod and demonstrations by a male friend and then her. Finally, an old salt in a Ballard bar said, "If the dog's gotta go, the dog will go."

Kip eventually did, conveniently using a starboard scupper, and Stone gave him enough praise afterward to make him realize that was appropriate behavior. Stone later got him to use a piece of artificial turf with grommets. She bags the refuse for later disposal and cleans the turf by hauling it behind the boat for a while.

Stone has also taken on the more common maritime challenge of seasickness, which can affect dogs just as it does humans. She recommends consulting with a veterinarian on over-the-counter medications, which a dog can have, and recommends more natural remedies like Rescue Remedy, Serene and candied ginger.

"Ginger is one of the best things for people," she says. "I make a batch of ginger cookies. It works with the crew. It works with the dog. They're tasty. They're not too fattening."

In the end, the extra effort is worth it. A dog on board is a bodyguard, burglar alarm and faithful crew, great company during the day and a warm companion on night watch.

"They'll sit up all night with you if you have to," Stone says. "They don't complain. It's a great benefit."

Freelancer Eric Sorensen of Kenmore sails his Yankee Dolphin 24 out of the Port of Edmonds. His column will appear here twice monthly through September. Contact him through his Web site: ericsorensen.net