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Highlights:
First race of the year, getting out on the water again. Flying the bitch - all in black, in good reaching downwind legs. Telling Mike after the race that he was over the line early and watching his jumpy reaction.
Downers:
Uneventful day really. Bit of a drag racing for time against a Seal (PYR 1170) that's about a mile astern, especially when the skipper's not allowed to look back. Trying to deal with a completely knackered engine that's been dropped in the drink while you're off on holiday
Result:
2nd on PYR and only 5th on Personal. Which is to be expected when your PERs taken the hammering that ours has recently. Still, it'll go up again now!
Lessons Learnt:
Keep a wooden block on board to touch for when anyone tempts fate. Covertly sabotage all Seals in the marina well before a race. Just in case.
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Race 1 Winter Series. Long Inshore. Friday 16th January
Wind 5-10 North East becoming 15 at times throughout the day.
It's another horribly early 09:30 briefing for a 10:30 start. Just for a change we've got a northerly beat from the Pumphouse/West Pole transit up to the Green and White beacon! Today's a long inshore so we're hopeful to place well, although there has been much talk amongst the barflies about a new boat that has joined our happy fleet - 'TNT', the ultimately refurbished Seal from the production yard of Graham Lindsay, complete with self tacker, loads of shiny deck hardware and a PYR of 1170. Still, we've a race to be raced anyway and we're good enough - even on 885, aren't we?
We start on starboard, only pipped by Blue Chip whose prestart manoeuvers included crossing early, gybing around a lot and generally hogging the line like a match race maxi. But we're up to speed, pointing very high although we cross about 14 seconds late. We get a direct line up to the first mark, hard on the wind while the other boats are pointing far less. We round the top mark and start our downwind leg to Earth Station, raising the new bitch in her full glory of, well, black...
It starts to get a bit chilly with our huge dark sail blotting out all rays of warmth from the sun, but we're pleased with our angles. This new sail seems to get lower that the old one. It's lighter, and makes a kind of sexy nylon swishing noise in the breeze - a bit like a tart writhing around on satin sheets. Perhaps I need to adjust the leech lines a little to reduce the glamourous sounds.
Pulling ahead of the fleet all goes well until Hamish decides to mention the fact that we raised the new sail first time without ripping it. We tell him to shut up but oh no, he has to carry on, touching Bob's head for luck in place of any wood. On the take-down the sail snags on the lower spreaders, and creates not quite a rip, but a definate run - proving beyond doubt that Bob's head can't be all wood after all.
Hamish narrowly escapes being thrown overboard, although debate continues on subsequent legs of the race. He remains on board only due to the harsh time penalties incurred for losing a crew-member during a race.
Upwind again back to West Pole and after reaching across to Pumphouse Port Bouy we again raise our jet black spinnaker and, looking utterly fantastic (image being everything), head down to Shoal Spar before another beat back and another run - in black again - and then the last beat up to the finish at the usual Pumphouse/West Pole transit, crossing at 13:27:08
Back at the Club we wait for Mike. Just to make sure that he knows that we know that he might have been early on the start... His reaction is well worth the taunt. Ken wanders by to take our time, calculates and lets us know that we've come first by 77 seconds to Yella Belly. But we havn't got the time of that Seal yet... and sure enough, when Ken gets the time we drop to second place. Personal handicap is a dismal 5th, but we know it won't be good after the last couple of races.
Pity we're not off the west coast of Scotland, racing near salmon farms. They shoot seals there.
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