2005 Event Reports from the News Page...

Grafham Grand Prix

One Cherub, two Cherrubbers, Two Cherubbers Past and One Cherrubber Future, made it to breezy, chilly but sunny Grafham for the two-races-two-to-count Grand Prix this year.

Norwegian Blue could hardly control herself: Flattish water, a good stiff breeze, and two parroteers who were ready for anything, despite his-and-hers-matching-colds. We rigged in good time, got rubbered up, and proceeded to the start at mach 10 (approx.). There was spray, there was air, there were smiles all round aboard Norwegain Blue. (Note to self: No need to bring a handkerchief as there is absolutely no time to use it)

The start was uneventful, staying away from the stop-on-the-line 29er gang, hitting the line a second or two late but at speed, twinning merrily. We soon fell into the dirties of an RS400 or some other stuffing machine, so we tacked away. We made good pace, so went nearly as far as the layline. The tack was ropey and slow: we missed stays and spent a little time getting going again, but recrossed the fleet in good shape, with the first few 29ers. We tacked out for the layline and in the process of ducking a starboard tacker managed a double teabag windward wipeout with crew from boat separation. Pants!

Norwegian was soon up and flying along the two sail reach, catching the RS400s, who always seem to be about 30s ahead of you after you have been upside down for ages!

Bear away, Hoist, 'Go strap yourself in, I'm going to make the jump to light speed.' (This is a Han Solo-ism. Don't believe me? Look it up).

Very suddenly we stop: That blur is an RS400 to windward. This incredibly slow speed we seem to be going is the speed they go at off wind! What's that they're saying? Sounded like "I say, don't you think gybing might be the old maneover of choice, what?". Perhaps we'd better gybe.

Mach 10 (approx.) again. Where is the buoy? Where is the opposition? What are all those beating boats doing under the spinnaker? Ooops-We appear to have overshot the leeward mark right into the other course! Down with the kite and white water reaching to the leeward mark. Round the bottom. Settle down. Off we go up the beat.

I don't know exactly what happened next, but I can recall the following details (in no particular order)