Curly Swirly

In peril of the yellow. Racing 5th November.

Wind toy seems to have an aberration.  It says the wind was from the south, about 200 degrees. It wasn’t. But it was pretty swirly.

Don’t ask me what happened in this race I wasn’t really watching.

I was locked in prime evil battle with rivals.  Not surprisingly, they were yellow. Not even a prime colour. 

In the first race, ‘Sir Topaz’ rushed off into the first mark and there was a flurry of activity as I fought to keep up.  We were all pretty close.  ‘Autumn Gold’ was extremely noisy with the carefully considered tactics of saying ‘hello’ at frequent intervals and thereby distracting the enemy.  The helm was heard to remark that Young Jack talks a lot.  Remarkable comment in itself me thinks.  Anyway, as that boat disappeared off into the distance showing great speed due to the light weights within, Sir Topaz fell backwards as various minor errors took their toll.  Out there in the front, Young Kevin, made the OOD, Young Malcolm, sound the Knell.  This was no surprise but the ignominy of the outcome was.  Not only did he win, but by 10 minutes or more which meant that he actually pulled away from the Merlin.  From now on, Solos start 3 minutes behind the Merlins.  I think Young Young was second, crewed by Young Flo.

I had calculated that AG had a least a 15Kg advantage so it was pleasing to see a crew change for the second race.  A better distribution of weight which, with due respect to the svelte Young Louise, was heavier.  On the start, the chattering was clearly still a problem as that boat was over the line with the silly excuse of ‘conversation’.  Ah an advantage!  Messed up, I have to tell you, by your heroes as the Fireball had the same idea of a port start and got the inside line.  That left Sir Topaz out in front again.

It was very disconcerting to go around mark 4 off towards mark 6 because looking towards the usual mark 6 position, north, it was nowhere to be seen.   We had to whizz off to the northeast to find it.  That felt really odd.  Anyway, with ST putting the spinnaker under the boat (Young Hannah, that was surely his fault),  AG solidly left behind and the Fireball interventionist safely upside down victory was within our grasp. (forget the other types of boats).  As we set about the circuits, noting the Fireball’s gardening activities with the top of the mast as we came past it again, the race looked secure.  Hopkins in the Solo once again triggered the rush to the finish, from Mark 1 although this was difficult to know in the near dark and my sunglasses.  AG was dangerously catching up, where his speed was from is a mystery.  Down the last beat to Mark 1: cover his every move. Finally, AG was to the left of me, on starboard to leeward, the mark to windward.  Basic tactic, sail AG beyond the mark layline tack round, grab the inside line and push him to the outside.  Yeah, sure if he was not so fast in a straight line. HE got the inside line, called for water (strict telling off there  in an attempt to disconcert, its not ‘water’ its ‘room’).  Room or not, he took us apartment and was round that mark heading off to the finish at B.  Still not over, we could grab the space to windward, and take his wind and cross the near end of the line at the box. 

I am sure Louise cackled as they took the win.  I was, of course, noble in defeat and kicked the hell out of the crew.

Mr Anslow bought us a drink.  ‘Put it on my tab.’ he said.  No problem.  I got Young Kevin to implement a Standing Order.  As a former banker, I thought Mike would appreciate that.