“Most of sailing is like this,” my sire, your grandsire told me. “Extended periods of peace, remaining on course, punctuated by periods of rough seas and crappy weather. It requires a steady hand to remain on course for nights on end,” he used to say, “away from any landmark, with only the stars as your guide, trusting in the ability of your crew to weather any storm and reach port.”

Only now in retrospect do I understand that he was trying to teach me about leadership, not sailing.

He used to say: “I sail because the ocean is the only quiet, desolate place I can go without having to worry about Lupines.” How many Kindred do you know of that have been smart enough to do that. It’s pretty hard to sneak up on a boat, even for the Nosferatu. Of course your grandsire had the benefit of controlling the Coast Guard Academy. When *he* went out, it was with a small military contigent at the ready to ensure his safety. Training exercises I believe they call them.

More and more Elders are taking to the open sea. It’s one of the few places left to us where we can see the night sky as our ancestors did without the haze of pollution or interfering city lights. So enjoy the view. They’re will be little time left for such frivolity after you are presented to the Prince tonight.

I can’t do his lessons justice. Truth be told I was too consumed with my own ego to pay much attention. But I’ll do what I can. Here, look what happens when I release the ropes and the rudder. The boat is afloat. It is in good condition. But without a clear course and experienced hand to guide it, it goes nowhere. It is valuable but useless.

Much like the Anarchs, no?

I remember how he used to deliberately seek out the roughest patches and take the hardest tacks. It’s difficult to wallow in ego or self-pity under those conditions without falling overboard. Maybe that was the point. Always keep busy. Always keep fighting; going forward.

And expertise, don’t forget that. Sailing demands that you know your stuff. That’s what a crew looks for in a captain. Your grandsire would have put it far more eloquently. He was the last romantic left to this age.

Everything about sailing is a metaphor for leadership, you see. Buoyancy, keeping the boat afloat, making progress in a strong headwind, tacking, the tensile strength of ropes -- too slack and they whip about/too taught and they break, how to scuttle, bailing and bilge pumps, how far to lean when the boat is tacking in a strong wind -- too little and the boat tips over, too much and you go into the ocean.

Don’t think of yourself as a leader of the Camarilla. It leads to arrogance and arrogance will be your downfall. Think of yourself as the captain of a ship. That will teach humilitiy. Mother nature can bring down the studiest ships with even the best crews much like our cities can be brought low by Lupines or mortals. That’s a lesson that teaches cautious humility. The Directorate needs more of that, I think.

Here, take the rudder and steer us back to shore or we’ll be late. See that light there? Yes, that’s the one you want.

You’ll be getting your own ship tonight as part of the festivities surrounding your release from the Accounting. Don’t look so surprised, surely you expected as much. I want you to offer to take some of your new Toreador friends out for a moonlight cruise.

Remember when I described your grandsire as a romantic? The Toreador killed him for that. The Directorate believes it was a petty jealous fued. Regardless, it put that vapid fool Webber on the throne and that cannot be tolerated. If my lessons have taught you anything tonight its that we need a steady hand at the helm fixing on the right guiding star. The Toreador are neither steady nor guided by any one principle.

I think it fitting that your new Toreador friends, the ones who betrayed your grandsire, join him at the bottom of the ocean. Don’t you agree?

As I said, more and more Elders are taking to the open sea.......