WHAT IS WRONG WITH SHEILA?

WHAT IS WRONG WITH SHEILA?

Psychological First Aid at Sea — Lesson Two

Seeing the Subtle Signs of Trauma — And What To Do About It

I’ve been thinking a lot about Sheila.

Sheila’s one of those solid, capable crew—you know the type. Ex-paramedic from Australia, quick-witted, always first to put her hand up when the trip gets long or someone’s having a rough day. She’s the glue that quietly holds the team together.

Before yachting, she ran emergency calls every day. CPR was just part of the job. She carried it well—laughs about it now, or she did… until that night onboard.

We had a cardiac arrest—a guest, you know the story.
Sheila was straight in, cool as ever. Ran the scene like a pro.
Thirty minutes of compressions. Everything done by the book.

But he didn’t make it.

And since then… she’s “fine.”
You know that “I’m fine”—the one you hear, but feel in your gut isn’t true?

She’s still doing the job—nothing you could pull her up on. But it’s what’s not being said that’s loudest.
She’s not eating with us anymore. Says she’s not hungry.
Started running—long, punishing runs—like she’s trying to outrun her own head.
And yeah, small thing, but… she’s stopped bothering with the usual little bits of self-care. Legs unshaved, hair tucked under a cap. Just not like her.

And here’s what I need you to hear—because this is the moment we often miss:
This is trauma.
Not the screaming, crying kind.
The quiet kind that slips past you because we’re all tired, all busy, and it’s easy to think, “She’s strong, she’s handling it.”

Except… she’s not.

Here’s Where Psychological First Aid Starts — And It’s Simpler Than You Think:

Look. Listen. Link.

1. LOOK — Pay Attention to What’s Not Being Said

You know your crew. You know their baseline.
When it shifts—even subtly—you need to clock it.
• Sheila stopped sitting with the team
• She’s punishing herself physically
• She’s withdrawing, letting the little things slide

Those aren’t random. They’re signs. Early ones. And catching it now matters—before she disappears completely or this turns into something much harder to pull back from.

2. LISTEN — Without Trying to Fix

This is where most people—good people—get it wrong.
They rush in with advice, with “Come on mate, you’re tough” or “You’ve done this before, you’ll be fine.”

What she actually needs?
Someone to sit next to her and just say:

“I’ve noticed you’ve gone quiet. I’m not here to fix it, but I’m here if you want to talk. Or not. Either way, I’ve got you.”

And then… shut up. Let the silence hang.

Listening in this moment is about holding space. Not filling it.

3. LINK — Keep the Connection Alive

We’re not trying to drag her story out or debrief the incident. That’s not your job.
Your job is to keep her tethered—to the team, to something solid.

That could be a walk.
A quiet coffee.
Keeping her looped into the rhythm of the crew—even when she’s pulling back.

And when the moment’s right—gently connecting her to support. A mate. Shore-side help. Or just letting her know she’s not carrying this alone.

That’s Psychological First Aid.

It’s not fancy.
It’s not therapy.
It’s human.

Look. Listen. Link.

Because it’s not the big moments that catch people—it’s the slow fade, the quiet slipping away.
And if we’re good leaders, good humans, we don’t let that happen on our watch.

Next Lesson:

What to Say (and What Not to Say) — Words That Help vs Words That Hurt When Trauma Hits at Sea.

Message me if you would like a PDF I’ve created for this lesson in psych first aid.

Ps. This image is an AI version of me (the author) and the copy has been taken from the psych first aid course I’ve written, and run through AI to repurpose and size it for this media)