A Spot of Sailing

Today has been gooood.

I signed up to sail on the Maxi yacht, Lion New Zealand for a day of racing in the Bay of Islands yearly regatta. The boat was built for Sir Peter Blake in 1985 for his Whitbread Round the world Challenge which he did particularly well in for the main reason that the boat did not fall apart as most of the other competors did. The boat came in at just over 2 tons over the designed wait due to being built with a bit of extra strength. Since then the boat has been involved with several races finishing high up the order. Now it is used by sailNZ to sail between Auckland and the Bay of Islands and the ocational local regatta.

The power the boat had could not be imagined until we started racing. The main power house took the form of 5 poor soles who were not quick enough off the mark when jobs were being handed out. These lucky 5 were placed on a 5 man grinding poll which ran across the center of the boat. There sole job to grind forward or backwards. Mean while someone sat at a little panel of switches turning on and of particular winches placed around the boat.

The racing was great fun but complete cause. The first race saw the committee send the larger boats off on a short course while sending the smaller boat which started later on a longer course. This caused great confusion while trying to find the first mark and to actual work out where we were meant to be sailing to. The result, Just follow every one else and hope they know something that we don't. The next joy was half way through one leg the course was changed which resulted in boat heading out in all directions unsure where they were meant to be.

Any way, the second race got under way which went a lot better although we still don't know if we crossed the finish line or took the correct course. Despite all the racing mayhems a great day was had and my sea legs are back on form - which is causing a small problem on dry land (managed to fall over in the shower again) and in true racing week fashion the bar was the final resting place. I came too the next morning with a bottle of Mt Gay in one hand and little to no memory of the night before, Great.