National Youth Leadership Training (NYLT) 2009 – Camp Josepho
The following are my thoughts on National Youth Leadership Training (NYLT.) From the beginning of camp we were assigned to patrols based on our age. I thought this was a good idea because it gave every boy an opportunity to lead within his peer group. However one area in which I saw a need for improvement was in having the boys lead. They were given the role but not the opportunity to lead.
There was one thing that I think would be very useful at the troop and patrol level, and that is Stop, Start, and Continue. We can do this every meeting and have a mini PLC, the patrol leaders can tell us at the weekly meetings what we need to stop doing, start doing, and continue doing. This can also be done in Patrol corners.
Something I found valuable in knowing where patrols are in terms of their development was the four stages of team development. These stages are Forming, Storming, Norming, and Performing. There are different symptoms for these, Forming is when the kids have high enthusiasm but low skill. Storming, the kids have low skill and low enthusiasm. Norming, the kids have rising skills and rising enthusiasm. Performing, the kids are high skills and high enthusiasm. The way to lead these different stages of development is when a group is Forming you should explain, Storming you demonstrate, Norming you guide, and Performing you enable.
There were some pretty intense discipline problems, starting on the first night. One boy was very disruptive, for example yelling out comments during films. He was asked to leave on day 3. Two others, one in my patrol, threw human feces at boys in the younger patrols and at their tents. The truth of who had had done this only came out towards the middle of the training and on day 5 the guilty boys were asked to leave. According to the the Scoutmaster Mr. Harlan Hogue, this has never happened before that so many boys were asked to leave.
I thought the adult leaders handled both these circumstances well and used them as an opportunity to show what leadership is not about.
Overall I thought the training was well done and I thank you and the rest of the committee for giving me the opportunity to do the program.
I would highly recommend that the troop send some boys to NYLT next summer. It’s a great way to grow the troop and for the individual boy’s personal growth.
--Keith Krueger, Assistant Senior Patrol Leader, Troop 104
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Emerald Bay 2009 - Rugged E - Days 1-2
Yeargh, here be the first installment of the misadventures of Troop 104 (at least from the Rugged E point of view)
Day 1
It was Sunday morning, and I arose from my slumber at 8:45, only half aware that I was still in my bedroom. In my half slumber, I pulled on by class "A" uniform over my "B" T-shirt and headed to the kitchen. After a hearty breakfast and what was sure to be the last thorough tooth brushing for a week, I threw my camera case and day pack onto my shoulder, picked up my duffel bag, and headed out the door.
In the church parking lot, the everything was as expected. Mr. Part was surrounded my adults asking questions and taking care of last minute paperwork problems. The young scouts stood in various little groups or ran in circles, chasing each other, and the older scouts (coincidentally the ones who would be joining me on a particularly memorable adventure in the Rugged E program) stood in a small circle away from them. I joined them and their discussion of things I shall not write about, but there was much laughter involved. After grabbing the troop and American flag from the shed, and doing a headcount to make sure that everybody was accounted for, we jumped into our vehicles and the real adventure began.
With the exception of the final 8 minutes, the drive to San Pedro was relatively uneventful. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the actual port, everybody in the Barragan's vehicle, the Neff Mobile, and our very own car seemed to not notice the sign directly across the street from us that said "Catalina Island Terminal". After a few minutes of sitting in a parking lot and retracing our steps, we realized where we went wrong and soon found ourselves at what was obviously the right terminal, because the parking lot was flooded with Boy Scouts of all different shapes, sizes, ages, and degrees of classiness. We unloaded our gear and joined the fray. The passengers from the car I rode in met the rest of good old Troop 104 outside the terminal because the line had become too long to remain in doors. Once we had dropped all of our gear and made sure it was clearly marked with our names and Troop numbers, we left the line for a piece of shade, where we did a quick headcount to make sure nobody had been accidentally packed in their bags while no one was looking.
Now, as most of you know, Cassandra G. had come along on the trip to do the Rugged E program as a Venturer along with her brother and six other boys from the Troop (most of whom happen to be Venturers). Everybody expected other girl Venturers to be going as well, since Emerald Bay is knows for its High Adventure program. WRONG! As we stood in the lot next to the terminal, scanning the crowd, we discovered that Cassandra was going to be the only girl who wasn't a staff member in Emerald Bay (that's what she gets for being the only one tough enough, right?).
Very suddenly, the line began to move, and we grabbed our bags and hauled them inside, where we were allowed to take a seat in the shade and air conditioning. Matthew and I found an unused table, which we quickly commandeered for a game of Magic: The Gathering (which I won!) to pass the time. Shortly after my glorious victory, we were asked to grab our bags again, and this time we headed out the door and down onto the docks and onto the Catalina Express where we added our baggage to a rapidly growing pile of backpacks and duffel bags, and then headed up the stairs to the top deck. Soon, the boat began to move and the Scouts were allowed into the parts of the boat that had tables, and Matt, Cassandra, Nick, and I journeyed downstairs to share a table with Mr. Martine for lunch and cards. Before we knew it, we had arrived at Catalina Island.
Since Emerald Bay is too shallow for the Catalina Express the Camp's special luggage barge pulled up next to our boat. As leaders and staff loaded up the luggage barge with luggage (duh!), scouts were asked to cross over the barge and into the tiny ferry boats that would actually take us to camp. The first scouts to be offloaded were Rugged E (that's us!), so Matt, Cassandra, Nick, Justin, Spencer, Keith, and myself waved goodbye to the rest of Troop 104 and headed off to camp.
As our boat pulled up, we were serenaded with a welcoming song my the staff, and as we walked off of the dock and onto dry land, all we were told was to meet with the rest of the Rugged E people, but we had no idea where that was. After wandering around the parade ground, we were finally directed to the hidden, shady side of the Mess Hall, where we met with who were soon to be our new friends. Well, not really. The people of Rugged E separated into the Troops the came from, and didn't really talk to people outside the circle. After a roster was collected and a we were given a quick overview of what we were going to be doing (Canoe Trip, Bike Trip, Hike, and Snorkel totaling at over 50 miles), Cassandra was appointed Crew Leader on the grounds that she was the youngest, and we were shown around the camp.
It turned out that we were not going to have much to do with the rest of camp. We were to pick up our food every day at the back door to the Mess Hall (we would make it our selves), we could help ourself to the camp's supply of coals and cooking equipment, and we did exactly that before heading to camp. The campsites of Emerald Bay are all placed along the central road that leads all the way down to the parade ground, but the Rugged Adventures campsite was off a road away from the other campgrounds, right next to the shooting ranges. We dropped our bags and grabbed our towels, then headed down to the waterfront for our swim test.
At Emerald Bay, like most summer camps after you complete the required 4 lengths of the swim area, you must float on your back. Most people had no problem with this, since most Boy Scouts are good Americans and are not made of just toothpicks and Duct Tape. I discovered that only the parts of me that breath float, a problem when it comes to the swim test because your feet must be touching the surface of the water to pass. After 5 minutes of failed attempts, my week of fun (and ego) was saved in the most peculiar way. Thank heavens for eating beans and having gas, because on my last attempt, my lower intestine provided the buoyancy required to get the lower half of my body to the surface of the water so I can pass. When the lifeguard said I had passed and could go, I lifted my tired body out of the water and onto the dock where I rolled over onto my back. As I slowly stood up, I lied to no one in particular in a fairly audible voice "I'm not dizzy". The lifeguard laughed and joked with me, saying that I'm going to fall in the water right now because I said that. I almost did. I found out afterwards than Nick P. did not make the swim test. Apparently recovering from the flu and jumping in freezing cold water do not go together very well.
Back in camp, we had a delicious burrito of beans, steak, salsa, and cheese (we didn't find the lettuce and tomato in the cooler until the next morning), and some ruffles and apples on the side, and spent the rest of the day relaxing. Matt and I found ourselves in a four-way game of Magic: The Gathering with two other boys who would soon become our friends, Nick and Mick. That night, we slept on two and a half inch thick foam mattresses on top of a bed that was nothing more than a metal frame with springs to provide "cushioning". The springs were sol old and worn out that my tent mate, Matt nearly touched the floor through his bed. It was like a Temperpedic Mattress from 1910. They were not comfy.
Day 2
On Saturday, we awoke and searched the food crates and coolers provided by the staff in the camp kitchen the night before. For breakfast, we had the option of cereal bars, chewey granola bars, or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I had one of each. Then, we put on our swim wear and headed down to the waterfront for our training in the art of war canoeing. I decided to leave my camera in camp, and it was a good idea.
I was appointed Cockswain (the person who steers) in our canoe, and we were soon leading the other two canoes around the bay. After spending some time practicing navigating, we got to the fun stuff. We had to practice flipping our canoes without getting a bunch of water in them. This is known as the cross-canoe flip. "Why?' you may ask? Because the people in the flipped canoe and the people in the rescuing canoe have to work together to pull the capsized canoe over the one that is still upright so that it can be flip out of the water. Our canoe was the first to flip. As we tried to haul our capsized canoe onto the other, my mind was allowed to wander from topic to topic, and i contemplated the presence of marine life below us, how clear the water was, how the life jacket I was wearing was designed to conveniently choke you while it kept you afloat. We flipped our canoe right side up and got to return to the safety of its fiberglass hull, and let ourselves drift away as the other canoes attempted to rescue each other. After our canoe, which by then had been dubbed the "Party Boat", got a chance to rescue someone else, we headed back to the shore for lunch and to pack, because at 1 o'clock we would be leaving on a seven mile canoe trip to Ripper's Cove. We packed and waterproofed our sleeping bags, and some people brought a change of clothes, while others brought tarps or sleeping pads. After a delicious lunch of peanut butter and jelly or turkey sandwiches (we had a choice!), some Capri suns, and ruffles, we headed down to the water front for our grand adventure.
We loaded up all of our food and camping supplies into the canoes, and then set off on our long journey. We paddled past Cherry Valley and soon reached Two Harbors, where we took a break and waited to regroup. The sky was still overcast from that morning, and the water was choppy. We had a long day ahead of us. I can't say that there is much to tell you about when it comes to paddling. We paddled. For seven miles, and for the most part it was uneventful. We sang, chanted, and yelled for hours on end. At one point, however, we came across a sea cave that we got to paddle through. The cave reminded me of the Santa Cruz Kayaking Trip, complete with almost hitting my head on a rock as we passed by. Once outside of the cave, we continued on our long, arduous trek to Ripper's Cove.
When we finally reached Ripper's Cove, we put our life vests out on the beach in a line so that the boats wouldn't have to sit on the rock and sand, and then we carried the boats in and set them down. We carried our food over some particularly scary looking rocks to a place on the beach where there were picnic tables and a grill, and we immediately began preparing for dinner. While the coals heated, on of our Guides, Daniel, took a few of us up a nearby hill to an amazing lookout spot, where we could see Emerald bay in the distance, hidden behind clouds and fog. After snapping some pictures, we returned to the site of the Bar-B-Que and claimed our burgers. Before we went to bed that night, we held a quick group discussion about what we could have done better and what we enjoyed about the day, along with a few leadership lessons. We then returned to the section of the beach we had left our canoes, set up our sleeping bags and went to sleep.
Just to make things clear, we slept on the beach, about thirty feet away from the surf, some people on sleeping pads, others like me using a tarp, with the warm sand for cushioning. On the horizon, the mainland glowed red and blue.
For all of the pictures from the first two days, go to Day 1 or Day 2
More to come soon!
Day 1
It was Sunday morning, and I arose from my slumber at 8:45, only half aware that I was still in my bedroom. In my half slumber, I pulled on by class "A" uniform over my "B" T-shirt and headed to the kitchen. After a hearty breakfast and what was sure to be the last thorough tooth brushing for a week, I threw my camera case and day pack onto my shoulder, picked up my duffel bag, and headed out the door.
In the church parking lot, the everything was as expected. Mr. Part was surrounded my adults asking questions and taking care of last minute paperwork problems. The young scouts stood in various little groups or ran in circles, chasing each other, and the older scouts (coincidentally the ones who would be joining me on a particularly memorable adventure in the Rugged E program) stood in a small circle away from them. I joined them and their discussion of things I shall not write about, but there was much laughter involved. After grabbing the troop and American flag from the shed, and doing a headcount to make sure that everybody was accounted for, we jumped into our vehicles and the real adventure began.
With the exception of the final 8 minutes, the drive to San Pedro was relatively uneventful. Unfortunately, when we arrived at the actual port, everybody in the Barragan's vehicle, the Neff Mobile, and our very own car seemed to not notice the sign directly across the street from us that said "Catalina Island Terminal". After a few minutes of sitting in a parking lot and retracing our steps, we realized where we went wrong and soon found ourselves at what was obviously the right terminal, because the parking lot was flooded with Boy Scouts of all different shapes, sizes, ages, and degrees of classiness. We unloaded our gear and joined the fray. The passengers from the car I rode in met the rest of good old Troop 104 outside the terminal because the line had become too long to remain in doors. Once we had dropped all of our gear and made sure it was clearly marked with our names and Troop numbers, we left the line for a piece of shade, where we did a quick headcount to make sure nobody had been accidentally packed in their bags while no one was looking.
Now, as most of you know, Cassandra G. had come along on the trip to do the Rugged E program as a Venturer along with her brother and six other boys from the Troop (most of whom happen to be Venturers). Everybody expected other girl Venturers to be going as well, since Emerald Bay is knows for its High Adventure program. WRONG! As we stood in the lot next to the terminal, scanning the crowd, we discovered that Cassandra was going to be the only girl who wasn't a staff member in Emerald Bay (that's what she gets for being the only one tough enough, right?).
Very suddenly, the line began to move, and we grabbed our bags and hauled them inside, where we were allowed to take a seat in the shade and air conditioning. Matthew and I found an unused table, which we quickly commandeered for a game of Magic: The Gathering (which I won!) to pass the time. Shortly after my glorious victory, we were asked to grab our bags again, and this time we headed out the door and down onto the docks and onto the Catalina Express where we added our baggage to a rapidly growing pile of backpacks and duffel bags, and then headed up the stairs to the top deck. Soon, the boat began to move and the Scouts were allowed into the parts of the boat that had tables, and Matt, Cassandra, Nick, and I journeyed downstairs to share a table with Mr. Martine for lunch and cards. Before we knew it, we had arrived at Catalina Island.
Since Emerald Bay is too shallow for the Catalina Express the Camp's special luggage barge pulled up next to our boat. As leaders and staff loaded up the luggage barge with luggage (duh!), scouts were asked to cross over the barge and into the tiny ferry boats that would actually take us to camp. The first scouts to be offloaded were Rugged E (that's us!), so Matt, Cassandra, Nick, Justin, Spencer, Keith, and myself waved goodbye to the rest of Troop 104 and headed off to camp.
As our boat pulled up, we were serenaded with a welcoming song my the staff, and as we walked off of the dock and onto dry land, all we were told was to meet with the rest of the Rugged E people, but we had no idea where that was. After wandering around the parade ground, we were finally directed to the hidden, shady side of the Mess Hall, where we met with who were soon to be our new friends. Well, not really. The people of Rugged E separated into the Troops the came from, and didn't really talk to people outside the circle. After a roster was collected and a we were given a quick overview of what we were going to be doing (Canoe Trip, Bike Trip, Hike, and Snorkel totaling at over 50 miles), Cassandra was appointed Crew Leader on the grounds that she was the youngest, and we were shown around the camp.
It turned out that we were not going to have much to do with the rest of camp. We were to pick up our food every day at the back door to the Mess Hall (we would make it our selves), we could help ourself to the camp's supply of coals and cooking equipment, and we did exactly that before heading to camp. The campsites of Emerald Bay are all placed along the central road that leads all the way down to the parade ground, but the Rugged Adventures campsite was off a road away from the other campgrounds, right next to the shooting ranges. We dropped our bags and grabbed our towels, then headed down to the waterfront for our swim test.
At Emerald Bay, like most summer camps after you complete the required 4 lengths of the swim area, you must float on your back. Most people had no problem with this, since most Boy Scouts are good Americans and are not made of just toothpicks and Duct Tape. I discovered that only the parts of me that breath float, a problem when it comes to the swim test because your feet must be touching the surface of the water to pass. After 5 minutes of failed attempts, my week of fun (and ego) was saved in the most peculiar way. Thank heavens for eating beans and having gas, because on my last attempt, my lower intestine provided the buoyancy required to get the lower half of my body to the surface of the water so I can pass. When the lifeguard said I had passed and could go, I lifted my tired body out of the water and onto the dock where I rolled over onto my back. As I slowly stood up, I lied to no one in particular in a fairly audible voice "I'm not dizzy". The lifeguard laughed and joked with me, saying that I'm going to fall in the water right now because I said that. I almost did. I found out afterwards than Nick P. did not make the swim test. Apparently recovering from the flu and jumping in freezing cold water do not go together very well.
Back in camp, we had a delicious burrito of beans, steak, salsa, and cheese (we didn't find the lettuce and tomato in the cooler until the next morning), and some ruffles and apples on the side, and spent the rest of the day relaxing. Matt and I found ourselves in a four-way game of Magic: The Gathering with two other boys who would soon become our friends, Nick and Mick. That night, we slept on two and a half inch thick foam mattresses on top of a bed that was nothing more than a metal frame with springs to provide "cushioning". The springs were sol old and worn out that my tent mate, Matt nearly touched the floor through his bed. It was like a Temperpedic Mattress from 1910. They were not comfy.
Day 2
On Saturday, we awoke and searched the food crates and coolers provided by the staff in the camp kitchen the night before. For breakfast, we had the option of cereal bars, chewey granola bars, or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I had one of each. Then, we put on our swim wear and headed down to the waterfront for our training in the art of war canoeing. I decided to leave my camera in camp, and it was a good idea.
I was appointed Cockswain (the person who steers) in our canoe, and we were soon leading the other two canoes around the bay. After spending some time practicing navigating, we got to the fun stuff. We had to practice flipping our canoes without getting a bunch of water in them. This is known as the cross-canoe flip. "Why?' you may ask? Because the people in the flipped canoe and the people in the rescuing canoe have to work together to pull the capsized canoe over the one that is still upright so that it can be flip out of the water. Our canoe was the first to flip. As we tried to haul our capsized canoe onto the other, my mind was allowed to wander from topic to topic, and i contemplated the presence of marine life below us, how clear the water was, how the life jacket I was wearing was designed to conveniently choke you while it kept you afloat. We flipped our canoe right side up and got to return to the safety of its fiberglass hull, and let ourselves drift away as the other canoes attempted to rescue each other. After our canoe, which by then had been dubbed the "Party Boat", got a chance to rescue someone else, we headed back to the shore for lunch and to pack, because at 1 o'clock we would be leaving on a seven mile canoe trip to Ripper's Cove. We packed and waterproofed our sleeping bags, and some people brought a change of clothes, while others brought tarps or sleeping pads. After a delicious lunch of peanut butter and jelly or turkey sandwiches (we had a choice!), some Capri suns, and ruffles, we headed down to the water front for our grand adventure.
We loaded up all of our food and camping supplies into the canoes, and then set off on our long journey. We paddled past Cherry Valley and soon reached Two Harbors, where we took a break and waited to regroup. The sky was still overcast from that morning, and the water was choppy. We had a long day ahead of us. I can't say that there is much to tell you about when it comes to paddling. We paddled. For seven miles, and for the most part it was uneventful. We sang, chanted, and yelled for hours on end. At one point, however, we came across a sea cave that we got to paddle through. The cave reminded me of the Santa Cruz Kayaking Trip, complete with almost hitting my head on a rock as we passed by. Once outside of the cave, we continued on our long, arduous trek to Ripper's Cove.
When we finally reached Ripper's Cove, we put our life vests out on the beach in a line so that the boats wouldn't have to sit on the rock and sand, and then we carried the boats in and set them down. We carried our food over some particularly scary looking rocks to a place on the beach where there were picnic tables and a grill, and we immediately began preparing for dinner. While the coals heated, on of our Guides, Daniel, took a few of us up a nearby hill to an amazing lookout spot, where we could see Emerald bay in the distance, hidden behind clouds and fog. After snapping some pictures, we returned to the site of the Bar-B-Que and claimed our burgers. Before we went to bed that night, we held a quick group discussion about what we could have done better and what we enjoyed about the day, along with a few leadership lessons. We then returned to the section of the beach we had left our canoes, set up our sleeping bags and went to sleep.
Just to make things clear, we slept on the beach, about thirty feet away from the surf, some people on sleeping pads, others like me using a tarp, with the warm sand for cushioning. On the horizon, the mainland glowed red and blue.
For all of the pictures from the first two days, go to Day 1 or Day 2
More to come soon!
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