Getting it right

This weekend was all about getting it right and somehow, I seem to have managed it on the 3 key elements of the weekend.

First off, a decision was made on Friday not to practice in the 18 on Saturday. The forecast looked like boat breaking weather, or should that be ego breaking weather. We had done enough of that the previous Sunday. So, for most of Saturday morning, I was cursing as the conditions looked perfect. However, the forecast was for a change and who knows when it might have come. Certainly, the Hystericals (Historical) 18's sailing out of the Squaddie didn't know when the change was coming and they set out for their usual Saturday gaunt around the harbour.

Having disposed of the kids for the day, Ginette and I wandered up to the Village for lunch. During lunch, it was clear conditions were changing so after we were done, we drove down to Taronga Wharf to admire the sight on the harbour and so that I could convince myself that we shouldn't be sailing. And sure enough, it looked "fresh to frightening"! We parked up so as to take a better look and as we got to the railings, from where we could get a view of the harbour, we saw 2 of the Historicals washed up on the beach. A quick dash later and I found myself waist deep in the harbour helping Woody and crew, including Scott Babbage, to get their fine vessel bailed out and ready to sail off. While getting sorted, we did notice the news helicopters overhead and thought little of it and about 20 minutes later, while others were being towed back, Woody and crew set off under full sail in order to get home.

An Historical 18' skiff on a better day

We jumped back into the car and drove round to the Squaddie to be greeted by the most extraordinary sight. 4 ambulances, 3 police cars and 2 news crews had descended on the club as if some major disaster had taken place. In the words of of a rather amused Woody, "somebody must have pressed the panic button!" The fleet had set out in lightish condition and been hit by a 35-40 knot squall, flattening all of them but all were home safely. One unlucky chap had cracked his head open and was stretchered off to hospital with his head bandaged in a way that my kids would have been proud of when playing at nurses but it really was a drama made out of nothing. It did, however, make the evening news and the papers the following day - a slow news day I would guess.

So, the first "getting it right" of the weekend was not to sail. A modern 18 in 35-40 knots would have been costly and with little rescue services, an "interesting" experience.

The next "right" was being a POM late on Saturday night/Sunday morning. 12 points to 10, all from the boot of St Jonny. There are days when being a POM in Australia is really great and we really enjoyed all the sledging we received. Go on England!

And finally, we got it right with the 18. Admittedly, it would have been hard to get it that wrong on Sunday afternoon with about 8 knots in the harbour but at least we proved to ourselves that we could sail the boat, tack and gybe plus begin to consider how we can sail it faster. It felt good to be out with the guys and we seem to be coming together as a team. It will take time, but at least we are now in the game. First race is next Sunday, so if weather permits, we should get one more practice on Saturday.

However, the most worrying thing is that it has been noted that we are losing the most important race. Now, the Rag and Famish team have been sailing 18's rather a long time but when it came to derigging, we were a long way off the pace. In their words, the race isn't over until the boat is packed away!