I’m a seasoned Southern California sailor. I’ve cruised up and down the shoreline and over to Catalina hundreds of time. John and I have also done quite a bit of racing together. First the Cal 20, and then this summer in the Catalina Island Series…just the two of us taming 20 knot winds and almost keeping up with the rock stars of the fleet.
So moving to Sydney was a natural. We came ready to sail. Brought our deck shoes, our sailing gloves. And as an afterthought we threw in our foul weather gear. Who knows, it could get a little chilly in the winter, we reasoned.
Well, we were about to learn about sailing in Sydney.
One day, we were boarding a ferry to go into the city, when John began to talk to one of the locals about sailing.
‘Are you a sailor?’, he asked.
‘Yes, we have a C&C 121 at home in Long Beach’. John replied.
‘Really, where do you race it?’ he then asked.
Since I’ve been in Australia, I listen carefully for language nuances, and what happened in that conversation did not escape me. John went directly from being a sailor to a racer, without wasting an interim question. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t presumptuous. It was merely the use of two synonymous words in the Aussie vocabulary: sailing and racing.
And we’re not just talking about a casual cruise around the buoys, we are talking about SERIOUS racing. John has been lucky enough to crew on a 30 ft. boat on Wednesday nights. It’s a boat that has raced in the Sydney to Hobart race a few times. It has also sailed in the Transpac (Los Angeles to Honolulu)….Yes, I said a 30 foot boat…only 9 feet longer than our Duffy.
And, as John will tell you, if you’ve done a Wednesday night race, be prepared to feel it on Thursday…and Friday. Of course, that’s assuming that you are not racing on Thursday or Friday, or Saturday, or Monday, or Tuesday. Yes, on the Seventh Day they rest…sometimes.
Which leads me to our second lesson about ‘sailracing’ in Sydney. It appears that Sydney racers would be good candidates for US postal service recruiting.
One evening in November, I arrived home in the middle of a tumultuous thunderstorm. The wind was gusting to around 40 knots. There was hail falling. It was a great night to lock the door and stay inside. But, it was also a Monday night…which meant it was a ‘sailracing’ night.
As I gazed out my kitchen window, I saw dozens of boats, crews dressed in foulies…not because it might be a little chilly, but because it was downright foul out there. I watch in shock as they skipped over the white caps, expecting them to come to their senses and return. They did. An hour and a half later when they finished the race!
So little surprises me about sailing here any more.
Except for yesterday morning. I looked out the window and saw a big fat cruising sailboat with a dodger and bimini. It was towing a dinghy.
And I thought…’You’re not from around here…’
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