I crewed for a guy in the Heineken Regatta at the Fort Worth Boat Club last weekend. This is a story about something that happened during our third race. I wrote it to email to my Dad and Brother since they both know sailing. Enjoy. Let me know if it's completely incomprehensible to those that don't speak the language.
___________________________________________________________
We need a second. We need to beat Paki II. Amor Azul is long gone
ahead, the best we can do is second, and we need it. We're on Amelia,
about two boat lengths ahead of Paki II on the last leg. Racy Lady is
bringing up the rear, just a little ways behind Paki.
We finished in second place in the first race, and third place in the
second. If we want to hold on to second place overall we need to keep
Paki II behind us for the rest of this leg. It shouldn't be hard, all
the boats are Santana 35s, and despite the incredible wind we're all
flying full mains with #3 jibs. We can stay on this port tack until we
can lay the finish. There's no way Paki can catch up enough to get
rights on us. We got her.
*Crack*
That was loud. My head snaps around to look into the boat. I've been
sitting high on the rail staring at the water, but now I'm needed. I
look forward to the jib. It's still full of wind, but the front edge
has one big wrinkle about a third of the way up, like it's flaked in
one spot. I drop my focus to the halyard running from the base of the
mast back to the clutch right by me. While it was rod straight and
humming with tension only seconds ago it's now a dead thing snaking
across the deck.
"We lost the jib halyard!" I holler as it dawns on me, just to make
sure everyone's on the same page. After a pause I remember something
that caught my eye when I surveyed the deck of my new ride this
morning, "We'll go to the spare halyard!"
Elton, the foredeck guy, is a step ahead of me as I extricate myself
from the lifeline and rail and head forward. Paul comes off the rail
too, looking a bit confused he hovers near the cockpit. It's
understandable, this is his first sail and we're all speaking greek
(or geek?).
"Paul, let the red and white one go!" He releases the clutch on the
spare halyard as I unclip the shackle from the base of the mast and go
to meet the sail coming down. Elton's just getting the last of it
down. The old halyard still attached to the sail is just a shackle and
six inches of line. I pocket it and head back to jump the new halyard
while Tom feeds the luff line into the track. Paul tails at the winch,
I banjo at the mast. We're 90% up when Tom drops a winch handle in and
finishes it.
Back on the rail I can look outside the boat again. There's still
someone behind us. It's Racy Lady. Paki II got just enough during the
change. We'll have to settle for a second place tie. Maybe we'll get
them tomorrow.
___________________________________________________________
We need a second. We need to beat Paki II. Amor Azul is long gone
ahead, the best we can do is second, and we need it. We're on Amelia,
about two boat lengths ahead of Paki II on the last leg. Racy Lady is
bringing up the rear, just a little ways behind Paki.
We finished in second place in the first race, and third place in the
second. If we want to hold on to second place overall we need to keep
Paki II behind us for the rest of this leg. It shouldn't be hard, all
the boats are Santana 35s, and despite the incredible wind we're all
flying full mains with #3 jibs. We can stay on this port tack until we
can lay the finish. There's no way Paki can catch up enough to get
rights on us. We got her.
*Crack*
That was loud. My head snaps around to look into the boat. I've been
sitting high on the rail staring at the water, but now I'm needed. I
look forward to the jib. It's still full of wind, but the front edge
has one big wrinkle about a third of the way up, like it's flaked in
one spot. I drop my focus to the halyard running from the base of the
mast back to the clutch right by me. While it was rod straight and
humming with tension only seconds ago it's now a dead thing snaking
across the deck.
"We lost the jib halyard!" I holler as it dawns on me, just to make
sure everyone's on the same page. After a pause I remember something
that caught my eye when I surveyed the deck of my new ride this
morning, "We'll go to the spare halyard!"
Elton, the foredeck guy, is a step ahead of me as I extricate myself
from the lifeline and rail and head forward. Paul comes off the rail
too, looking a bit confused he hovers near the cockpit. It's
understandable, this is his first sail and we're all speaking greek
(or geek?).
"Paul, let the red and white one go!" He releases the clutch on the
spare halyard as I unclip the shackle from the base of the mast and go
to meet the sail coming down. Elton's just getting the last of it
down. The old halyard still attached to the sail is just a shackle and
six inches of line. I pocket it and head back to jump the new halyard
while Tom feeds the luff line into the track. Paul tails at the winch,
I banjo at the mast. We're 90% up when Tom drops a winch handle in and
finishes it.
Back on the rail I can look outside the boat again. There's still
someone behind us. It's Racy Lady. Paki II got just enough during the
change. We'll have to settle for a second place tie. Maybe we'll get
them tomorrow.
Last edited:
