What am I doing here?

What am I doing here?

Hunched over, my back to the gale, standing in thigh deep water.

Pale frozen hands are holding the mast. With every gust I tighten my grip and push down with my body weight. My rig is a chained dragon, trying to wrest itself from my grip and flap off into the gloom. It settles down for a second to catch its' breath then strikes out again, this time flipping the board into the air for a few spray filled windmills.

What the #$%# am I doing here?

I take turns making fists with my hands and holding the rig. What am I waiting for? I think I was hoping to warm up a bit. So much for that. Was I waiting for a gust, or a lull? I can't even recall. This is the first stage of hypothermia, isn't it? I can't quite think straight and having trouble forming words with my lips. Even talking to myself is slow.

"NOW !!!!!!"

....what?

"RIGHT NOW!!!!" screams the sixth sense in my head.

I don't know how it's figured this out, but I'm too shagged to argue. I flip up the rig and instinctively power on. I need to get moving now before I get back-slammed. I jump onto the speed board in one leap. Front foot up at the mast base, trying to push the nose downwind. I'm sliding sideways as the tiny fin flails without some speed.

The chop is about a foot high but I finally get the nose down and start to feel the acceleration. I've gotta hook in and move these cold legs quick and get into the straps. The front foot finds its' home but it takes three blind jabs to find the back footstrap. I'm already doing 30kts over the back of the chop.

I take a few breaths to recompose myself and get my hands into a better position. I wriggle my feet further into the footstraps.

I see a white misty squall up ahead and point up 20 degrees to take some power out of the rig. I'm still in too much water to think about bearing away. I sail into the gust and it tries to back-slam me and rip the board out of the water at the same time. I grit my teeth, lock my arms and wrestle the beast as best I can.

I knew I should've rigged smaller but it's too late now. Just deal with it.

The squall passes and I'm breathing again. Feels like about 33kt speed and 100 degrees off the wind. I'm still a few hundred metres from the shallow stuff but start to line up the best looking water. I readjust my grip a bit further back on the boom, getting ready for a sling shot.

When I suddenly catch some spray in the corner of my eye, the reflexes kick in. I duck down a bit to take the power and crank the board away 30 degrees. The gust nearly stands me up but I'm able to hold it without sheeting out. The acceleration is crazy. After a hundred metres I hit the shallower water and accelerate again. I come up 10 degrees and can put some weight on the fin now. The slapping turns into a chatter and I start to ride up on the fin. ......It hits me again!!!!

The second gust pushes the nose down to the water again and I bear away another 20 degrees. This is definitely over 40kts, and comfortable. I outrun the gust after a few seconds and feel the power abate. I start coming up a bit to keep some pressure in the rig as I start slowing down. "Not a bad run" I'm thinking, grinning like an idiot..

"What The @^#$ !!!!"....

I get hit out of nowhere by a vicious spray filled bullet. It stands me up and I drop out of the harness to avoid a catapult. With my last ounce of energy I manage to crank the nose downwind again and get my shoulders out. The dragon's trying to take off and ditch me at the same time. The nose pops up a bit but then stabilises as I muscle the power down. "Now this is crazy fast!!!...."

I somehow get back into the harness and squeeze the last drop from the gust. I'm running out of water fast here at Primbee so I've gotta bail soon. I ease the power and start digging in my heels.

......nothing happens, "This dragon wants its' freedom!!"

I get my ass down and crank my heels in. After a few nervous skips the rail bites and I start rounding up. Phew, I'm about 10 metres from the shore. That was a bit too close. I don't have any energy left to work for some height. I round up into the breeze and quickly get out of the straps. My 20cm fin had started hitting the ground the moment I got below 20kts and I don't want to end the routine with a face plant.

I step off the front and flip the rig just as another squall hits. This time I'm not hunched over. I'm standing tall in shin deep water, facing the full force of the wind.

"That's what I'm doing here!!!!" I yell at the westerly.


Jetlag
August 2018

wow Jetters, great writing there, we need the movie too

Awesome write up really sums up winter sailing for me. Not long until the summer sea breezes resume and we can all return to board shorts here in WA

Yeah that was awesome yes you are having fun

That was me last wednesday at Narrabeen except I never really got going and was never comfortable and the wind kept dropping and then cranking again and I was freezing and wore booties which I hate doing so couldn't get into the back strap well and then was spinning out because of all the baby elephant stomping on the back of the board and fluffed all my gybes and was too unfit to water start so up hauled which took forever and mostly the rig sank and my GPS showed 30 knots which was great but it filled up with water so I couldn't post my first speed of the season,,,,what am I doing here,,,,loving this crazy frustrating and totally addictive sport!