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Tim Member  Member#: 238 Location: Registered: 01-06-2003 Diary Entries: 343 Mood: Not enough time to do it all. |
5th July 2007 Windsurfing: Brog RACE Wind Direction: SE Wind Stength: F3 Surf / Sea State: Flat Air Temperature: Cool Sea Temperature: OK Weather: Pissing it down Max Speed: 21.8 (knots - unless stated otherwise) Distance Covered: 7 (Nautical Miles - unless stated otherwise) Race 10 July 5th Wind again on a Thursday? Surely not! Yet it had been blowing all day and come 6pm it dropped in it’s own inimitable style. The lake Manager is seen pacing the Astro Turf. Slalom Or Course racing? That was the question. It had started raining an hour earlier and it was now pissing down (the joys of an English summer) Slowly the wind freshened again and needless to say it swung from onshore south westerly to a cross shore southerly. Yours truly is seen once again sailing off into the distance towing a little orange ball with two bricks strung round his neck. Onlookers look on aghast. Had they pushed him too far? Was the lake manager about to commit suicide? But no! He’s moving his balls again! There’s a sigh of relief. The wind freshened a bit more and it’s slalom once more. It may have occurred to you that it’s strange after all these weeks of no wind that we are suddenly blest with wind on Thursday nights. “Why?” I hear you ask Well its obvious really, the Gods have had a Cabinet reshuffle! Out goes the Wind God, and the Sun God has taken over his duties (well things had been a bit quiet in his department lately). The wind God has been demoted to rain God and boy is he annoyed! And shows his displeasure by pissing on everyone ‘Wind they may have, but they are going to get bloody wet, I’ll make sure of that’ Always said he was a nasty piece of work! I Digress (again) The start is deemed a beach start and as usual everyone jostles for the upwind position. The race Officers Alex and Ron have taken over squatters rights in the van, so as to keep vaguely dry as the rain hammered down and sounding like machine gun fire on the roof. Ron blows the horn and there off! Sixteen racers leap from their traps in a desperate attempt to get to the first mark in front of everyone else. Well perhaps leapt is a bit of an exaggeration as some tried beach starting while others went for the safer option of up hauling their Steeds. The result was the usual mayhem at the start, rigs flying all over the place and the whole scenario resembled skittles in a bowling alley. Finally some of them started to move. The wind had become gusty and selective, so that contestants were suddenly planing and hurtling through the fleet while others just drifted along. Tim got a particularly good gust and flew past everyone to take an early lead. The Hoff suddenly blasted through everyone on his flying plate, then Andre got a gust. And so the first leg unfolded as various racers took it in turns to leap from the water like frightened Gazelles. David Tiffen got so over excited with his pumping that the whole board was leaping from the water on a regular basis like an oversized frog on the piss. The first few round the mark sped away. Then someone dropped their sail and the usual mayhem ensued as everyone ploughed into him, eventually after a considerable amount of splashing and swearing they all disentangle themselves and head for the next mark to repeat the process! Up the next leg Andre sees a gust coming get’s thoroughly overexcited at prospect of planing again and pushes his craft a bit too much downwind in anticipation, the gust arrives (and a viscous little bugger it is too) there is a resounding bang that reverberates around the lake as Andre goes ass over tip! End of lap one, and Oh guess what The Hoff is in the lead! Now there’s a bloody surprise! Tim is hanging in there in second with Helium Mike closing with every puff which of course had him planing. 4th was Mike Milnthorpe (what the hell was he doing up there) well that won’t last that’s for sure! At the back things weren’t going quite as well. Tony could not get going at all and was suddenly aware that his hastily rigged ( I use rigged in the broadest sense here) sail was not all it might be, enough downhaul for three sails and outhaul that turned the sail into a very passable drum. Well he was going no where on that! ( As Eeyore two will tell you, “He never could rig a bloody sail!”) Simon was having difficulty making the mark and had to put a tack in (some bastered had nicked his dagger board when he wasn’t looking) As did Tony (twice) with his oversized drum. Lap 2 saw the Hoff still in front, Helium George was closing as Tim dropped back a place, further back Jo was making good progress as was Rob who was definitely having one of his better outings. John Andel was as usual in the middle occasionally picking up a gust and flying along. Lap 3 saw the Hoff continue to dominate. Andre went ballistic as he engaged overdrive and surged into second. Lap 4 and then it happened! THE HOFF IS DOWN ! “NO!” “He can’t be!” Its true THE HOFF IS DOWN and he’s staying there. It was a bit like seeing Red Rum fall at Beechers, well it just doesn’t happen. There are gasps from onlookers on the bank! Groups of Coots suddenly stop feeding and whisper to one another “The Hoff is Down” Birds fall from the sky in amazement Fish leap from the water to view this amazing fact Tadpoles swim on their backs to get a better view THE HOFF LIMPS FROM THE SCENE OF BATTLE Meanwhile back at the front line Andre takes the lead with the finish line in sight, but here comes Helium Mike. At the finish Mike pips Andre on the line, and then (it can’t be) MIKE MILNTHORPE IN THIRD PLACE ( I would suggest a drug test might be in order here, sudden improvements like this can only be deemed as extremely suspicious). Tim took 4th place while David T pumped his way into 5th. John Andel’s final race position was 6th ( for he now disappears to a strange deserted island for months on end) Old Siggy took 7th place still complaining that the lake manager had set on him and run him down (for the record I was on starboard and was hit amid ship by a craft that ignored the rules to the last possible moment and then dropped his sail on me) The court case will be heard in September! Jo did really well again in 8th with Rob just behind in 9th, Keith improved his performance with a 10th while Mark could only manage 11th and had failed both to keep an eye on his harem and run the lake manager down, his only two aims of racing every week. Chris didn’t have a good race with a meagre 12th to his name while Sandy paws took 13th bemoaning the fact that, having past the lake manager on the fourth lap the bastered retired, denying her the pleasure of thrashing him. Tony for his part decide the humiliation of being beaten by a Sandy Paws was one step too far and left the battle field in search of some fellow musicians so that he could play his drum! But what of the Hoff I here you ask? Apparently something snapped, a recurring war injury had plagued him yet again as something went ping in his neck Well initially the Hoff was seen on his knees pleading to yours truly not to print the truth “ Say anything, I don’t mind, Say I was Crap, say I was useless. But please Mr Lake Manager Sir don’t say I was injured” The man was desperate, sobbing into his burger You see the fact is the Hoff wanted to go sailing at the weekend and if Mrs Hoff found out that he was injured he would be forbidden and grounded You see the Hoff is very afraid of the Lady Hoff, for the fear showed on his face. But as the evening progressed it was clear the Hoff was going no where this weekend as his neck stiffened up and the hunchback of Notre Dame returned . NEXT WEEK HE’S THREATENED TO BE RACE OFFICER GOD HELP US ALL! |
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