admin Date , August 24, 2025 Sailing Previous Blog Two Clean Boats Last Comments (0)
Sunday was full of hope. t was nearly 2pm for a 2pm race start—which, if you’ve ever sailed at a club before, means we were practically early.
Three boats sat on the water, bobbing hopefully. We looked at each other and realised: if we just float around and don’t capsize, we’ll come third. A podium finish!
And then, like a slow-motion twist in a very low-budget sports movie, Andrew appeared... in his Lightning.
And just like that, we were demoted to fourth out of four—before we’d even crossed the start line. And to rub sea salt in the wound, this was a trophy race, meaning only the winner counts. No prizes for "most time spent drifting backwards."
We practised our start on the five minute warning. The Wind was quite good blowing across the river, so we could sail up and down the river on the same tack. The one minute horn sounded. As if on cue, the wind, which had been doing a passable impression of “light breeze,” decided it had better things to do. Like not be here.
And so the “race” began—not with a bang, but with a gentle ripple and a barely perceptible forward lurch. I’ve seen snails move faster. In fact, I think a duck overtook us.
Five laps were optimistically set, then reduced to three, and we… well… just about squeezed in two. Sort of.
As we rounded the top mark for our second go, the safety boat—perhaps sensing our need for exercise—decided to relocate the mark significantly downstream. Off it went, disappearing into the distance like a mirage. By the time we finally reached it, the rest of the fleet had not only rounded it but were halfway to packing up.
My wife, stationed upstream with a camera to capture our majestic sailing skills, had enough time to:
Film our heroic drift.
Walk to the ice cream van.
Queue behind every child under the age of ten.
Enjoy said ice cream.
Stroll casually back to the clubhouse.
She still beat us there. By a lot.We eventually rolled over the finish line with all the momentum of a feather on a still day. Dead last. But upright. And smiling.Because in sailing, it's not about the winning—especially when that’s clearly off the table. It’s about being out there, trying, laughing, drifting with purpose, and avoiding collisions with swans.
If you want to look fast, race when the camera's rolling.
If you want to look like a winner, don't let Andrew show up.
