Boobies in the Pacific.
Race 11, Day 14, light winds giving us time on our hands. Potentially too much time. Days spent watching brown-footed boobies in their aerial high jinks, thinking up what seems a never-ending number of schoolboy silly, slightly smutty, innuendos to do with the word ‘boobies’. Playing with boobies has taken on a new meaning.
We have added a new collective noun, as without the likes of Google, we have no idea if one already exists – a party of boobies is our nomination for lexicon. We have noted the boobies come in pairs, or multiples thereof, as to be expected really. And they continue to entertain us as they soar around the boat, only to fold their wings and disappear into the water catching flying fish or squid.
Who knew we would be partying with boobies in the Pacific. They look like the same group of birds spending all day with us, soaking up the tunes playing on deck, teasing the crew by almost landing and as the stars just emerge and the sun has gone, they disappear behind the orange glow of the night sky. As for the race, the boobies are out in front every time.
The race is just like training and yet nothing like it whatsoever.
As a first time sailor, the training was great in giving me an excellent grounding in sailing. The training, as on the race, is filled with sail changes, tacking, gybing, cleaning, cooking and of course the bilges. The training lasts a week and for some of it you get to experience the watch system and the joys of being woken in the middle of the night. As this is the same in the race why is it also nothing like it?
As obvious as it sounds, because it is a race, something you are left in doubt about once you join your leg. The culture and dynamic on the boat is so very different. Each evolution takes on a whole new level of significance – the consequence of a mistake is the loss of miles, speed, even positions and lots of work to recover, at the sewing machine for example.
The pressure is palpable, an unspoken SOP. Do it right, do it quickly, work as a team, repeat the order – always less haste and more speed as the old saying goes. Time is of the essence, so even though the evolutions are generally not as frequent as we experience in training, when called they need to be done promptly, and without delay. Ready to gybe means just that - get ready now, no talking about how, who wants a turn, and should I be here or there, no chatter, the only words are the orders repeated and the instructions from the helm.
Another big difference is the sense of team. In training, it is often the first time you have spent time with each other. On the race the team is well formed and embraces new leggers warmly, welcoming their energy and enthusiasm. It is also a team that helps and guides and expects a lot, no passengers.
Finally, the biggest difference I think is how much more there is to learn, not necessarily so much about sailing, but about racing. It is