The relationship first began 5 years ago with a call to a local sailmaker. I had raced against the sailmaker for 3 years on the Mumm 30 circuit but now I needed his help… "Hi, I just got a call to do bow in France for a big regatta and I haven't done dip pole in 3 years, are you launching any boats?" "yeah, I got one this weekend, show up at 10." It's a Beneteau 36.7…upon survey…news flash to sailmaker…this is not a dip-pole boat but still it is an introduction to the new owner.

Its now 4 years later and my roommate receives a call about a new boat being set up. She tells me they are going to also need someone to do bow. "Put my name in, I miss technical boats" (I have been sailing a J120 in the interim). As it turns out, the owner is the same person we had sailed with on his first 36.7 race. Now he is the proud owner of a Sydney 38.

The owner and his boat manager have not only put together a pretty good crew, they also have an aggressive schedule planned. The highlight of the schedule being the Sydney 38 championship in Sydney, Australia, next spring. Game on; let's see what we've got! First off, the boat performs like a dream in the high winds of San Francisco Bay. Second, I am impressed with how much progress the owner has made as a driver in the years since we last sailed together. This is especially so, since he travels 3 ½ hours to San Francisco from Reno, Nevada to sail. The spring and summer bring a series of regattas, and crew changes, some good, some bad. We are not the best Sydney 38 on the Bay but we are happy with our progress and the team gets along well.

It's now late February 2006. We've purchased our tickets and now we are on our way to the "land down under". It's a bit daunting. First of all, the owner has never been on a starting line with this many boats (rumored to be 40 but so far only 22 are on the scratch list). Second, its winter for us and we've sailed sparingly due to work schedules and logistics. The Sydney based boats are at the end of their summer season and we assume at the top of their game. Third, We Have To Weigh-In..TWICE! We are a bunch of big North Americans, used to sailing with 10. Maximum crew weight will allow for 9, IF we all lose some weight. Some of the crew had to lose 30 pounds. Others who are not overweight still had to lose some….yes, all my whining on SA is true, I had to lose 10 pounds but I was trying for 15 to give the rest of the team some leverage. I used to have to weigh-in all the time in the Mumm 30 circuit but it's been 7 years. The weigh-ins will take place over two weeks so its not only lose the weight but lose it and keep it off. Losing 10 pounds is a good thing, or so I keep telling myself. It's been 2 solid months of eating nothing but salads and lean protein. It came off but VERY slowly.

Work is crazy right now and I know my boss would prefer if I didn't go on vacation but I asked about this time 6 months ago. I am just hoping that I have a job when I get back. So stress aside we plop ourselves onto a plane and head west. I'm sitting in business class while some of the other crew is in coach. I figured I might as well use the miles for my comfort. Wahoo, great menu, good wine, I'm all set. EXCEPT… I can't have any of it until we know the weight of the rest of the crew.

Upon arrival in Sydney we meet up with one of our crew from Canada and then take a shuttle to the yacht club. It's hot and sticky. We're tired but its time to go sort out the charter boat and practice. The crew breaks out as follows: 4 Americans including the owner, 1 Canadian, 2 New Caledonians (one is our boat manager) 1 Kiwi and an Aussie (the charter owner's rep. who will be replaced when our last crew member from SF arrives on Sunday). Our sails have been shipped from the US. The boat seems in pretty good shape for a charter but our boat manager has a different opinion as he has been working on it for a day and a half. We jump on, in our sleep deprived fog and motor to the Sydney Harbor entrance otherwise known as the Heads.

The scenery is spectacular even for those of us used to sailing in San Francisco Bay. High rock cliffs on either side of the harbor entrance. The waves roll in off the Pacific, crash into the cliffs and then bounce around creating a confused pattern. "How can they possibly run a race here?" is what we are all thinking. Visions of Cassis, France dance through my head and a particularly nasty regatta a few years back. To top it off the wind isn't all that strong, maybe 15kts at best, so it's light and lumpy. Yuck. Already some of the crew is looking green. Okay… here we go. Sails up, tack, tack, tack, Spin up, gybe, gybe, gybe. Around again and again. My feet don't seem to be connected to my body. I am having the worse time keeping my balance and already the bruises are coming. This does not bode well for my knees if I can't get more stability. I had arthroscopic knee surgery on both of my knees in September 2005 to clean up flaky cartilage and I have spent the last 6 months rehabbing them for this regatta. Cross my fingers.

Our crew, of which 6 have sailed together before, we are working out the kinks but things are real slow and sloppy. After 3 hours of practice we head to a boatyard just past the Sydney Harbour Bridge. It seems our boat manager had a dive under the boat and found the bottom rough. We are heading to the boatyard for some wet sanding. Now, after a week of 12 plus hour work days, a 14 hour flight, 3 hours in customs and airport shuttles and 3 hours of practice, the boat is in a sling and 9 people are sanding away at one of the worst orange peel bottoms I have ever seen on a race boat. Barnacles are on the sail drive! In addition, the boat has met the bottom of Sydney Harbor at some point in its career and we are filling cracks around the keel and a flat spot on the bulb. There is no way we can get it all done in a few hours so it will have to come out of the water for more work before the Internations Cup next week. I don't even know how long we were at the boat yard only that I was dirty, tired and hungry. What day is it? Did I really just get off a plane today? Taxi cabs back to the rental house and a quick weigh-in check on the house scale shows that we are spot on so it's salad for dinner and off to bed.

The morning brings another weigh-in as the scale is kept in the kitchen and we are now slightly under the limit but have heard through an SA source that the MHYC scale weighs heavy. Light food of powerbars and it's off to the boat for another day of practice. Thankfully the boat manager got up early and moved the boat from the yard to the yacht club. The practice goes much better and we are starting to meet some of the other crews. What at bunch of nice people! The weigh-in gives us a few kilos to play with so we are very happy. Will someone please tell Aussie guys that if you have to strip to your undies to weigh-in, try to wear the "good" ones. My eyes have permanent burn marks from the sights in the weigh-in room. Off to the bar for a quick celebration drink, then back to the house for an early evening. Since we have another weigh-in to worry about, it's going to be big salads and lean chicken for the next week. Ugh.

Part II 4/21

The first day of racing dawns and the excitement is everywhere. The Sydney Harbour Regatta is sponsored by Audi and the overall winner gets an Audi A4. How cool is that? Supposedly this is a huge regatta with every thing from Ynglings to Maxi's entered but we see none of those boats. Why? Because all classes are racing inside the harbor except the Sydney 38's we are on the Heads. Also, everyone else only has two days of racing while we have 3. The good news is that the race course is not actually at the heads and the nasty area we had practiced in but off the beach in Manly. This is great because the water is much smoother there. The whole crew is happy about this. It's a slightly overcast day with decent wind. The first two races we get great starts and are in the top 10 of the class. But there is something wrong. We are working our asses off downwind rocking the boat onto waves while other crews are just sitting and we can't seem to pass anyone. Was all that wet sanding for naught? The second two races do not go so well as the wind has dropped and our starts were not so good. Yes, that's right 4 races in one day! We are the last class to get into the docks and the party is well in hand. We are wet and tired and decide its best to head to the house for showers and then come back. Plus there are women in evening dresses on the beach. What the hell is that all about? My roommate and I agree that being less smelly is good but there is no way we are putting on dresses. When we arrive back smelling a bit better we realize that we should have stayed as the party is already slowing down. Live and Learn. We make our way through the crowd and everyone is friendly and welcoming. I can't imagine this ever happening to an out of town boat in the US. Phil and Mel track me down and begin the introductions to multiple SA'ers. Again, all I can say it what a bunch of truly nice people. Teaky's forehead is not all that big and my Flojo flipflops are definitely cooler.

Phil and Warthog are on the race committee boats. They tell us that we seem to be going fine upwind but are slow downwind. This is our feeling also but we are not sure why. Time to take a harder look at the spins. Also, Jellyfish mentions that we should have changed the D2's between the 2nd and 3rd race. According to the rig tuning we had worked with in the States this wasn't necessary but then again the Sydney's in the States have rod rigging and these boats are wire. Again we are amazed at how nice and friendly people are.

Day two dawns and it is not as nice as the previous day. A little more lumpy but not much more wind. Now they have me up tuning the rig on the way out to the course. Do you think we could slow down the motor a bit guys? I'm being slapped around against the rig, some of the nuts are rounded and I'm being yelled at for taking so long. It's hard to get the right leverage. One hand has a screwdriver, the other a wrench. A leg is wrapped around the shrouds and the other is dangling. We come off a particularly steep bit of chop, I get slammed into the shrouds and then spun around the backside. I swear as the screwdriver slips from my hand and the line it was tied to, falls to the deck and then into the ocean. Fortunately no one was below me. I dropped the screwdriver in order to grab the rig. I was within a few fingertips of going halyard flying and not in the fun way. Now, not only do I have the bruises which are covering my arms and legs, there will be a nice spreader and shroud cross hatch on my chest. Another screwdriver is sent up and they slow the motor down so I can finish my task. When I get down from the rig, I am hobbling. If I was a guy I would be talking a lot higher. I love going up the rig but I reeeally have to look into getting a different harness.

The racing starts and again we don't have that great of a start. We are mid-fleet and fighting through bad air. On to race two. A much better start and again we are in the top ten rounding the windward mark. Approaching the gates to leeward and planning our rounding we see a boat approaching on Port. The tactician yells starboard but no response. Finally as we gybe away to avoid a collision they gybe. Great, now we have to deal with a protest and we have yet another gybe to round the mark. What was going to be a very clean and ahead of the pack rounding is now in the middle of a pack. We are the inside boat rounding the left gate and asking for room. A small problem occurs…a boat 3 boats away from us fails to give room and a pile up ensues. Unfortunately we are the last to break free and get going and end up at the back of the pack.

The race committee decides to only hold two races this day so we head in to get ready for the protest and the 3 races we will have to sail on Monday. The good news is we win the protests. The bad news is the waves and deck have taken a toll on my legs and my knees have swelled up a lot. I head home to ice and wrap because movement is getting difficult. There is a bunch of fluid on my knees.

Day 3 dawns and it is not good. My knees are still quite swollen but I wrap them up tight, pop some Celebrex and put on a happy face. On the crew side of things we are getting along fabulously for being thrown together. As one of the guys commented; "We have 10 people staying in a house together and there's not a "tool" amongst us. Do know how rare that is in race crews?" Every morning we share duties, making sandwiches, laundry and getting the water and powerbars ready for the boat. Someone makes coffee and breakfast, and then we head to the boat. No Primadonnas amongst us.

Back at the house the team is ready to party and we make our way through several bottles of wine during dinner only to be followed by tequila shots, rum shots and Jack Daniels. It our first chance to let loose and we have two days before we have to weigh-in again. Just as some of the crew is getting messy the suggestion is made to go into Sydney "where there is dancing" Everyone agrees but I apparently am the only one of the girls that hears the name of the place the guys want to go to: "Porkys". Somehow I think this is not the kind of place where I will get to dance and besides my knees are really hurting so I stay home.

The stories from the night are the usual except that the other girl on the crew is a bit upset with me that I didn't give her the heads up. I wake up the next morning to really stiff legs and I immediately call an orthopedic surgeon. The crew takes it easy other than getting the sails to the loft and the boat to the yard for more work. We head into Manly to find an internet café and to replace the alcohol we drank the night before. Everyone is moving a bit slow today and more of the stories from the night before are coming out. To our boat manager and our tactician who may be reading this: "meow" and "boom, boom, boom" I'll leave it at that.

This evening we have plans for a nice dinner at Catalina in Rosebay. A water taxi is picking us up at the yacht club and dropping us off at the restaurant. It's a beautiful ride across the harbor and once again we are amazed with the scenery and the sheer amount of sailboats out. There always seems to be a race going on somewhere. The restaurant and the food were very good and the ride back to the yacht club was boisterous. Everyone ate healthy though because we still have a weigh-in to go. They think they have a guy to replace me but we don't want to count on him being lighter than me even though we were told that is the case.

Wednesday arrives and part of the crew heads to the boatyard, part to the loft and I head to the doctors. The ortho., after the initial comment of "your knees are bloody awful," tells me I can try to sail but he can't guarantee I will be able to walk later. He pulls 75 cc's of fluid off one knee, 65 cc's off the other and injects cortisone in both. Knees will only hold 80 cc's of fluid, which is why I am seeing swelling throughout both of my legs. It's rather painful when this procedure is done. A large hypodermic needle is stuck in the outside of the knee angling under the knee cap and then the fluid is drawn off. This is the 6th or 7th time in a year I have had this done so I am prepared. The doctor tells me I did great and that I'm more resilient than some of the rugby players he works on. Good thing I don't have long finger nails otherwise I would have bloody palms. 6 hours, $400 and a trip to the Chemist later I arrive back at the house. I can barely walk and I head straight to bed to ice and elevate. Tomorrow is the Sponsor race around the harbor for the Internations Cup. The race doesn't count towards the regatta standings but is still required attendance by all boats. I am going to try to sail because if my replacement doesn't work out I need to be able to see if I can race the regatta.

The morning dawns and my legs look normal. Wahoo, the diuretics and anti-inflammatory drugs worked. Then I put weight on them, they hurt like the bugger and start to swell again. Drugs, I need drugs. We head off to the boat. It's a sunny, mild wind, beautifully flat water day on the harbor, just what I need. The race is to be around fixed marks and islands within the harbor. I'm riding in the back of the boat with the tactician and I get to watch my replacement run through the paces. He does okay and it's apparent to me that I could not function well on the bow. I am not very mobile and it's very disappointing. I've been an athlete my whole life and now my body is letting me down, not my skill level. This is very hard to take but I vow to make the best of it. My thinking is that it's better to walk the rest of my life than race this one regatta.

Not to worry the crew is not all work. In the evening we head to Mossman for a very nice dinner. After dinner the crew nominates me to be the driver. Wait a minute…I'm the only one who's not sailing tomorrow, why am I the DD? Now imagine this: nine people crammed into a minivan, a driver who has not driven on the left for 5 years and a Kiwi who is drunk yelling out directions from the backseat. Yep, we got lost trying to find a bar in North Sydney, crossed the Harbour Bridge and ended up at fancy nightclub in Sydney called the Establishment. I am still having nightmares with a voice in my head saying "there's a Paaak, there's a Paaak". Trees and benches everywhere so what's the big deal? Paaak is apparently Kiwi for parking space….The club is fun and totally the kind of place I would get into but I'm the driver, damn. Still, the picking's are pretty "sweet" (another Kiwi term) and even the guys are gathering a few "belles". What a new experience to meet guys in a bar, tell them you're in town to race sailboats and not have them go completely blank. I love Australia. It's all over too early as the boat manager reminds us we have a regatta tomorrow.

Part III 4/21

The first day of the Internation's Cup arrives and from the wind blowing at the house it's going to be a gnarly one. I am almost relieved not to be going out. I take my drugs and head to the kitchen where I make coffee, breakfast and the lunches for the crew. I am now the crew "mom" driving the minivan shuttle to the yacht club. It's hard to push the team off the docks. I have an empty feeling in my stomach. The race committee offers that I can go out with them but I pass. I just can't watch racing right now. As it is, I am fighting back tears. I decide to help with some grocery shopping and rest my legs the remainder of the day. At the grocery store we fill up two carts for the 3rd time since we have arrived. It's all a very weird experience because the grocery store is at the Mall with all the fun parking inconveniences. What brilliant architect thought this one up? Just as we get back to the house and the groceries are put away, a call comes in to the cell phone. The owner has been hurt on the boat and we need to meet the ambulance and race committee boat at the docks. This is shocking and very scary for the owner's wife. Disappointing also, because today is his birthday and the whole reason we made this trip was because he wanted have the regatta be a birthday present to himself.

He is shuttled in on Ichi Ban's Protector and is in good spirits. It seems there was an offshore medical kit onboard our boat with all the necessary drugs so he is not feeling the full load of the pain. They move him into the ambulance because the technicians think he has broken ribs. The story is, that he lost his footing on a wave on got slammed into the combing while still holding onto the wheel. Ouch.

I try following the ambulance into Manly but get lost. This driving on the left requires a lot of concentration and I was afraid to blast through a traffic light. I drove around and around but never found the Public Hospital. I did find the Private Hospital but he wasn't there. I guess I could have asked for directions now that I think about it but at the time I wasn't thinking. Maybe I was a little bit shocked at the turn of events. I did find my way to the beach and was able to watch the races for a while. It was really nasty out there. In one sense, I was glad to be watching it from shore, considering how badly my knees hurt just sitting but in another sense I was dying to be out there. Nothing is more thrilling than racing in heavy conditions with a competent crew. I was imagining all the scenarios of cracking of perfect gybes and surfing by competitors. Heads games… must be the drugs I am on. After a bit I returned to the house to see if I could find a map and get to the hospital. Fortunately the owner and his wife arrived at the house shortly after me, having taken a cab home. He was in great spirits and thinks he could get back on the boat in a day or two. I smile and say "that will be great." I have had cracked ribs and know the pain they can cause. Broken ribs are another scenario. I don't think he will be up for getting back on the boat but I don't want to say this to him. Right now he is on some really strong drugs and thinks he feels pretty good. Anticipating that the crew is going to be a bit strung out, I pack up some cold beer and chips and head to the docks to wait for them.

They arrive looking completely beat-up. Other boats are arriving at the docks with bloodied crew members too. Repairs to boats, people and sails begin immediately. First Aid kits are being passed around the docks. Buckets of water are being bailed from the insides of the boats and sails are being hauled off to the lofts. The crew is thankful for the refreshments and very concerned for the owner. Of the 3 races today the team finished at the bottom for two of them due to sorting out the issues but the last race they got their heads in the game and did quite well considering they were a body down. The consensus of the crew is that the owner will not make it back on the boat for the regatta which means we need to go to the class for permission to keep sailing and find a Cat. 1 driver.

We didn't take a tally but it seemed like at least one person from each of the boats stopped by to enquire about the owner's health. The class president didn't even hesitate about giving us permission to keep sailing so now we need to put out the calls to find a driver. No small task for a team from another country. Did I mention how nice people are and how cool this class is?

Finding a driver is not easy. We can't just call up the sail lofts because the people there would be cat. 2 or 3's. Fortunately, our tactician is from New Zealand and has sailed here often so he starts thumbing through his cell phone. Although most of the crew could probably drive the boat we feel that if we can find a true driver that would be best scenario so everyone can stay in their positions and at least the crew work is solid. It's bad enough that I had to be replaced on the bow, now the owner is out; no one is in a good mood. To top it off, today is the owner's birthday and we had planned a celebration which now must be postponed. We clean up as quickly as possible and head back to the house for a quiet evening.

Shortly after dinner we have a mild bit of success. We were able to locate a driver. According to the tactician, he is pretty good and he is available to race the remainder of the regatta including Monday. Huge collective sigh of relief.

Saturday morning I get out of bed to less swelling in my limbs but walking is still pretty painful. Again I put on the happy face, make the sandwiches and breakfast and wait for the crew to get up. Everyone is pretty anxious to get to the boat to start shaking out the kinks and help the driver get accustomed to the crew. I shuttle them off and head back to the house to lay by the pool with my feet up. I'm still very upset with not being able to sail and my hope is that maybe by staying off my feet my legs will become more nimble. On Monday, the last day of the regatta, one of our crew has to catch an early plane home and cannot sail. My hope is that I will be well enough to fill in.

As dock time rolls around, I pack up the beer and the chips and head to the yacht club. The crew is pretty happy to see me and they have had a good day on the water too. Today again there were three races run. Two days into the regatta and six races down. We stay for a few drinks and socializing and even the owner gingerly makes it to the docks to say hello. The partying is pretty subdued because there are still two days of racing left. After a few rounds, the crew heads back to the house for movie night. It's still amazing that we have been living together for ten days now and no one is having any personality issues.

Sunday is my big day. I'm going out on the race committee boat to watch the racing. One, I am finally feeling that my legs will hold out and two, I feel I can now watch the racing without getting tears in my eyes. It's very interesting to hear all the discussions prior to leaving the docks. Today is supposed to be the "long" race of the regatta and there is some disagreement amongst the owners as to whether it should be a long buoy race or a point to point race. Either way it's going to change up the tactics because it's a light air day with patchy wind and the current (E.A.C… dude!)will play more of a factor. The owners hold a meeting and a brief vote and it is decided to hold a long buoy race. The legs are going to be 6 miles long. Twenty-Four miles! That's going to make for a long day…

Out on the course the race committee decides on a wind direction and sends the mark boat that I am on, out to set the mark. Mind you, there is no wind. I am thinking these guys are crazy but as we hit the 3 mile mark there is the beginning of ripples on the water AND it's from the direction we are heading. Okay, well maybe these former Sydney 2000 Olympic RC guys know what they're doing. When we get to the 6 mile mark there is about 10kts. of breeze. Over the radio, the start boat indicates that the wind line is almost to them and they will go into sequence shortly. These guys are good. I should mention that the mark boat is a somewhat cushy 3 story cabin cruiser with Warthog and BoatSlut handling the chains and marks and the owner driving. My job is to enjoy the day so I figure why not. I strip down to a bikini, grab a beer and head to the bow to catch some rays. I am really enjoying myself. The temperature is perfect. The waves are minimal and the company is fun. A little over an hour later and a short snooze, the guys give me the heads up that boats are coming close to rounding. Wow, even after 6 miles this is still one design racing. Boats are exchanging tacks and ducking sterns as they set up to round. Ichi Ban is around first. I keep watching but don't seem my team. 2, 3, 4,….12! There they are. Well not great but not at the back of the fleet either. This course has really shook things up. There are boats that have been low in the standings for the last two days who are in the top 5. Cool.

My excitement is short lived as now I know it's going to be at least an hour and half before I see them again. The wind has picked up so maybe it won't be that long. Back to the bow.

Okay here they come again. Ichi Ban is again first around, so much for shaking things up. Then I start tallying the boats as they round and things have shifted a bit. 2, 3, 4...9! Hey the team picked up 3 boats. Wahoo! After the last boat heads downwind, the guys pull up the tackle and motor quickly to catch the boats finishing. I can't wait to get to the docks and debrief with the team. The course was so long that even with binoculars from the fly bridge you couldn't see what was going on mid-course.

The team relates stories of crossing tacks, seeing the ocean bottom as they tacked along the shore and numb thighs from hanging on the lifelines for hours on end. Once again I feel the pang of regret from not being able to sail. On top of that the boat manager has decided I am still not moving well enough to do 3 races tomorrow so he will find another replacement. Again I am devastated but I try to put on a happy face and enjoy the evening. The owner is feeling even worse today from his injuries and could not come to the docks. Out of respect for him, we decide to make it an early night again and head back to the house.

The final day of racing dawns and the crew decides to give me a break and order sandwiches from a service rather than have me make them. OK but at least I felt like I was contributing….Everyone is excited because the point totals are close. There are 3 races scheduled for today so there is a real good chance the team can move up. It's blowing again when we get to the docks. Maybe it's a good thing I am not sailing. I would hate to hold back the team just to put salve on my wounded pride. As we push the team off the docks, the team member who has to catch a plane looks at me and says "You're right this really sucks." Well, at least someone feels my mental pain.

One day sitting by the pool was enough for me. I just can't sit still for long even though I should. I head to Manly beach to try and watch the racing. It's a bit too far offshore to pick out the windward mark but I should be able to see the chutes and the finishes. Our chutes are all red and all black. The black being the heavy air chute. The first race I see 3 red chutes and a black one quite a ways back. I'm hoping they are one of the red ones because the black one did not do so well. It's hard to tell from the beach whether the wind has them in ¾ oz. range or not, which would be the black chute.
The next race there is a red chute up front and the black one. I am racking my brain to try and remember from the last regatta whether anyone else had a black chute. The final race again has a black chute and a red one up front. Now I am hoping the black chute is ours but what the heck happened in the first race? I hurry back to the house, pick up the owner and his wife, the beer and head to the docks to await the crew. Several boats are already in. One had a cap let go but they managed to keep the rig. Another couple of boats decided they had enough bruises and did not race the last race.

The crew hits the docks and we get the full story of what caused the issue in the first race. They were the black chute. It seems our relatively new #3 jib decided to come unglued and explode. By the time they got it all sorted, most of the fleet had passed them. Well that's one design racing. On the bright side they were also the black chute in the last two races and finish with two 5's. The team finishes 12th overall. Pretty darn respectable for all the changes they had to make and the same position as the Australian Championships.

The rest of the story is pretty typical tourist stuff. A trip to the zoo, some shopping and then onto the plane and back to work. Well, okay, some of the guys did hit the strip bars again after the regatta was over with but they couldn't remember much to relate the stories. In case you lost track, we sailed; nine races in three days for the Australian Championships and 11 races in five days for the Internations Cup. A total of 20 races spread over 11 days. It made KWRW and BBS seem tame by comparison.

04/21/06