Practice makes perfect: the T-Cup Regatta

My dilapidated dinghy became the last minute storage spot for all the loose gear that would get in the way during the race…

Chat about the T-Cup Regatta had buzzed around all week. It was a yearly, just for fun, local regatta, but still up to my gills with projects, I ignored the other sailors’ taunting and tempting. I had no intention of putting the extra work on my plate for some silly race. I explained that I was no racer, that my preferred sailing is over-reefed in open sea going comfortably less than hull speed while reading a book and dreaming of the waves I might find at the next island…

But the evening before the race, the buzz got under my skin. The weather would be perfect–a 10-knot, NE wind and clear skies. Having not sailed the boat for so long, I’d been feeling a bit uncertain of my captaining capabilities, too. “What better way to give Swell a little test run than a jaunt around the lagoon with a bunch of friends?” I thought.

The next morning I woke still wondering if I should enter. By 7:30am I’d ruled out any reasons against it. “It’ll be a great opportunity to see what else I need to fix.” I told myself as my competitive spirit kicked in. The race started at 9am about two miles from where I was moored. I rounded up a friend who would be positive company and some extra muscle for pulling lines, despite that he hadn’t done much sailing. We quickly piled anything unnecessary into my disintegrating dinghy, left it tied to the mooring, and headed off to the race…

Late as usual…Swell made it to the start about 10 minutes behind the other boats.

A whole ten minutes behind the gun, Swell cantered toward the start line on a fumbling reach as I untwisted halyards and flattened the main, stretching the wrinkles from her creased sails. I showed my friend how to wrap the jib sheet around the winch, then release the other sheet, pull, and then crank it tight, while I turned Swell’s bow across the wind. We tacked around the start buoy, entering the first upwind leg of the race. The lovely breeze pressed into Swell’s sails and she took off like an eager underdog across the shimmering lagoon. Soon Swell was gaining quickly on the fleet! With a strategic tack, we overtook the first boat and moved out of dead last. Then, one by one, Swell glided easily and surely past two, three, four…five, six, seven of them!