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Tim Member  Member#: 238 Location: Registered: 01-06-2003 Diary Entries: 343 Mood: Not enough time to do it all. |
16th June 2005 Windsurfing: Brog Race Wind Direction: SW Wind Stength: F4-5 Surf / Sea State: 6" wind blown Air Temperature: 20 Sea Temperature: 15 Weather: Low Cloud Max Speed: 25 (knots - unless stated otherwise) Distance Covered: 15 (Nautical Miles - unless stated otherwise) Tony's Report: Thursday Night Racing June 16th Windy Again? “I don’t believe it”! (Victor Meldrew) Yes it was slalom again as contestants gathered on the shore, the wind in its usual fickle way started to drop at 6.15p most were lulled into a false sense of security and rigged their 8.5’s. Yep! You’ve guessed it, it bloody freshened and to add insult to injury it also swung 30 degrees, this meant that the slalom course set, was nigh on impossible, there were murmurings of discontent from various quarters directed at the lake Manager (as if I did it deliberately). The outcome was an interesting course. A very tight upwind leg that became almost impossible to make without a tack and a hair raising downwind leg that was close to a dead run. Race officers in the shape of John B and Ron gathered on the shore plus various onlookers who seem to derive some sort of ghoulish entertainment in observing the various disasters at sea. The race started with a fairly hairy downwind leg. Mike George shot into his usual early lead and was in fact nearly at the bottom mark before anybody else got going. Then the wind freshened from behind and those at the back hurtled down the course in some sort of uncontrollable dash. Converging at an alarming speed on those still wallowing in the middle. Annette and Tim shot through the rest of us like bullets from a gun. Dave Lewis made the first mark second , while Annette astonished herself by rounding the mark third, Dave Skye was going well in fourth until various others joined him at the bottom mark as they all scrambled round ( I felt scrambled was more an apt description than gybe!) The lake manager who had started reasonably well, glanced over his shoulder half way down the first leg to discover to his horror that everyone had passed him, it was like a deserted desert behind, with not a camel in sight. As the race progressed the wind freshened and onlookers were treated to various forward loops (without the board). It became increasingly difficult to make the now windward mark, with only Mike seeming to make it on most occasions. The effort and frustration of trying to crank their machines upwind was beginning to take its toll. Then on rounding the mark our Gladiators were treated to a horrifying downwind leg, a broad reach in its broadest style. Not for the faint hearted. Half way through the race things sort of sorted themselves out. Mike was lapping everyone on a regular basis, but not content with this , he even tried to tow the windward buoy further to the bank to make things more difficult for the rest of us, which I did feel a trifle unnecessary. Dave Lewis was making his mark in second place interspersed with the occasional over the top catapults, presumably just to keep the onlookers amused. Tony had some how crept up to third after John Andel had used that age old excuse of “ Oh Dear my outhaul has gone” and went to the bank for a rest. Tim had decided that the clubhouse beckoned and retired gracefully from the proceedings. The race officer was seen scratching his head in a confused manner, having totally lost the plot and had no idea what was going on! At last what seemed like an eternity the winning post came into view, as the wind was freshening even more. Dave Skye abandoned ship by running off the back and spent a considerable time swimming after it. Sandy was under the impression that it was in fact a swimming race, only getting on her board for a rest, it was perhaps a bit hurtful from one participant who asked her, and I quote :- “ If you are going to drown, would you mind not doing it round the mark”! Annette was still going (JUST) while her husband having just escaped with his life when the lake manager tried to brain him with his mast, left the arena in a sulk! Mike won by miles (AGAIN). There was a slight controversy over second place when Tony nipped passed Dave on what he thought was the last lap. It wasn’t they did an extra one, Mad fools! So Dave was second and Tony third. John Andel (fully recovered after his rest on the bank) took 4th. Chris Foreman had fought valiantly all the way round to clinch 5th, while. A slightly soggy Dave Skye came 6th. Annette sort of threw herself across the finish line in one last supreme effort before dieing to finish 7th. Rob came 8th still unconvinced that gybing is possible. Nearing Dusk a little woman emerged from the water, resembling an underwater sloth, it struggled to the nearest seat, muttered “Nobody cares if I drown” and didn’t speak again. Now for those of you who know Sandy, to say this is unusual would be putting it mildly! Finally the race Officer slunk into the club, aware that he had totally cocked up and really had no idea where anyone had finished. He trembled with trepidation expecting a lynch mob to grab him any moment and hang from the nearest tree If anybody had had the energy to throw a rope over a branch, his fears might have been justified, as it was nobody could even stand that alone throw a rope |
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