Although the weather forecasts were hideous, FD sailors from as far apart as North Wales, Newcastle, and the New Forest, gathered at Carsington by kind invitation of the Tempest class, who were also holding their end of season bash.

<After sitting on a toilet in Pakistan for the entire duration of the Rutand weekend, and after Cath's satisfaction at seeing Peter right at Rutland, and with the fact that JB had been persuaded to pick up our new mast from Superspars, we were inching to get to Carsington. It was nice of the Tempests to ask us, we should continue to work with them with positive caution. I quite liked starting both classes together, makes for a thirty boat fleet, and we pull away from them, well eventually.>

Andy Moss and Steve Rockey fought John Best and James Cole for every inch right to the end, but failed to stop John and James from polishing off the year in style. <We felt sympathy for Mossman and Rockey, they stretched out a good lead on Saturday, but JB and the carbohydrate Hoover played a brilliant second half and the whole fight of the titans was gripping entertainment on Sunday whenever we were bored>

Saturday began light and gribbly, with five knots and drizzle. Andy and Steve started in true Essex style, port tacking the combined fleets and pulling away to win from John and James. Julian and Cathy Bridges crawled out of the hole they had started in to work up the fleet and take third from Peter Daigneault and Brian Holt.

<Mid fleet we went well, after a start which merciful amnesia has obliterated from my memory, but the so called heavy air heroes trickled remorselessly away with absolutely no mercy>

Julian and Cathy then won the second start in a far more refined fashion,

<after a having a laugh with Mossman and Rockey for a bit leading up to the start>

leading away from the pin with just enough breeze to trapeze, but were overtaken by Andy and Steve before the top of the first beat. They then vanished into the distance, with John and James also crossing the Welsh team and almost taking the race from Andy and Steve, who were well pleased at being comfortable overnight leaders.

<Once again we felt we were doing it as right as we could, they were both just doing it much better.>

<Thanks to JB who finished off the afternoon by plucking the hotel VW out of the Somme of the campsite with masterful four wheel driveness and an FD towrope. The field was almost level but on Friday night we slowly found out where the lowest point was while we tried to drive the van in any other direction>

The Halloween party at the club on Saturday evening saw lots of chatting to the Tempest gang about the joy of being an ex Olympic class,

<muttering amongst ourselves about even greater eccentricity than us - keelboating with a trapeze >

an excellent barbecue, the ritual burning of an old Firefly

<shame, and I meant to steal any interesting fittings from it, too>

on a bonfire, and a splendid firework display.

Sunday dawned bright and cold,

<bloody hell, yes, once we left the snugness of our beds in apartment D18 parked behind a Flying Fifteen in the dinghy park, it was cold, but clear and beautiful, and there were good bacon butties and hot coffee to be had in the club. Cath one, James three>

with ice on the boat covers and more breeze. Andy and Steve won the start with a port tack flyer again, and Julian and Cathy were second to the top mark. However John and James took the gun from Andy and Steve with the Welsh maniacs finishing under genoa, breaking their main halyard tacking for the finish line

<after JB and the protein black hole blew us away we had a laugh with Mossman for a bit, before settling down and waiting for him to make a mistake. We kept our eyes on Peter, and especially the ballet like movement of Matt, and as we swung through the tack away from the nature reserve buoys and onto the lay for the boat, I sat out, wonged the traveller up and there was a bang, an obvious lack of acceleration and a lot of noise, as the kevlar did what it is supposed to and broke without warning. And I thought, ‘I remember thinking that after I had finished re-reeveing that into the Gamma, I should have end for ended it while I had it out’. Cath was great, totally unfazed by something which would have been a ‘Big Crisis’ a couple of years ago, and just got the bodies over the side and got on with sorting out the chaos like any fighting seawoman should. Meanwhile I learnt how to sail an FD uphill in a breeze without the pretence of even having the mainsail hoisted. We had miles of room on Peter and Matt really, but it makes us sound braver in Y+Y. >

and scraping third from Peter Doran and Matt Stephenson.

< ‘Are you still racing?’ from the committee boat, ‘ course we are still cowing racing, mun!’ from the Mirror refugee from the Pilot Inn on the Mumbles seafront of the mid seventies, ‘ ‘snot cowin sunk yet, ave it?’, ‘Well whats your bloody number then, we can't see it without the mainsail up!’>

During the fourth race the breeze came up, gusty and fifteen to twenty knots, making life harder for the lightweights Julian and Cathy who led for the first triangle before being passed by Andy and Steve.

<We were amazed at how well we did in the breeze, take heart lightweights, it may be a bit grim in open water and a steady heavy breeze, but its still possible to make their eyes water in the all action gusty, shifty, hoists ‘n’ drops, two sail or three, crash and burn stuff>

John and James did heroic spinnaker stuff on the later reaches, blasting past the whimpering others.

<They certainly did to us, let me tell you about it. We were two sailing and riding a big one down, comfortable but totally maxed out, - more pressure? Well, we ran out of weight ages ago and now theres no more mainsheet left, the only way to go is deeper down. They were fifty yards below and the distance behind that it takes to gybe three sails rather than two. ‘Cowin great’, I thought ‘lessee worreh maak uffissenn’ With gob open and eyes staring, the Wales correspondent reports ‘Whenna cowin guss ittum, right, JB juss ikes out an dumps bouta yarduv mainssheet, unn James lies back, right, cossyee wuss only bloody sitting up anyway, unnay went lampin downiss reach like rockets, right, unayywuz still lay-ying the bottom mark, unaywuz still bout fifteen, twenti grees, iyya an wewuz wiv two sails anyway. Thank you and back to the studio. We were whimpering, but its not fair to say that Andy and Rockey were too. We did have another laugh with them for a bit on one of the runs though. I like runs, no, not talking about Pakistan here, the more it blows the faster the faster you go, without any nasty sitting out. The FD ride is like Eurostar compared to the Southend and Tilbury of the Hornet which threatens instant horrible runny death at frequent intervals. Caths trimming was excellent, although the squeakings had risen to a frequency audible only on mobile phones, and bats were flying straight into trees. I, while reaching for the next sandwich, happened to look under the boom at Rockey, who appeared to be mending holes in the trawling net, for why else would the ships boy be out on the foredeck wrestling with acres of material. Dont know what they or their spinnaker were about, but it kept them all amused until the bottom of the run. >

They won with the other two neck and neck until Julian and Cathy binned it just before the line.

<When we hardened up, we were fifty yards up on them, Andy and Rockey. Whatever they had done with the kite was all away, and it looked as if they were still speaking to each other too. It was quite seriously windy now, and it was obvious we were in trouble. When its gets really mad we use as little leech as possible, so the rig is now down to max of clew two, perhaps we should have changed to three but its too late now, and the main is doing nothing constructive above the second batten. Because our board fore and aft slide was designed in conjunction with the Sinclair C5, we just rake the board back, at a good six inches up from fully down. They were going a little slower than we were, but buckets higher and we were heading for the same fate as the wildebeeste. Our demise came when, stalled on the level crossing, we’ll cross them, surely we’ll cross them, with the train coming, oh my God, we dithered about what which door to get out of, before bearing off behind them, dumping the main, stalling and loading up the genoa so Cath had no chance of freeing it, and then subsiding gently into Carsington Water. Caths first capsize in several years, and my first ever capsize that near to a committee boat, it all took only a couple of minutes and was filmed by the RYA for a training video. Me straight on the board, no women and children first stuff if she has a dry suit and I dont, Cath steps down delicately on to the boom and, floating elegantly in the water, releases the main, genoa and kicker, I lean back on the board and then climb in, and a rather sodden Jac of Roses is ready to complete the last twenty metres of the race, and thank the Wilkins that wanted a single bottom almost to the mast, and the resulting boat thats happy lying quietly on its side>

With the breeze still substantial, and most crews suffering from immersion in the arctic Peak District waters, the only takers for the fifth race were the two leaders and die hard heroes Vic and Liz Bateman.

<After righting a capsize as neat and unobtrusive as anything the cats have ever done behind the sofa, we were surprised to see how many basking sharks there were on the lake. Peter and Matt were over by the nature reserve washing their feathers, Nic and Chris spent ages down at the bottom of the course, Brian was trying to make Peter angry by poking holes in his boat, ‘ then I hooked myself into the topsides so when we capsized I was pinned upside down to the boat’ and I dont know where the Vic and LIz were cos we were actually quite busy most of the time. The fact that they actually went out to fight again when only men with something to prove should have been sailing was very impressive, as was the fact that they came back before it all ended in tears.>

John and James won a close and exciting race and therefore the meeting, though life was made easier for them by Andy and Steve having a DSQ for OCS.

<It almost ended in tears for the RO too, because if Mossman had won, the RO would have had to DSQ him from the race and lose him the series for getting far too excited before the start. Fortunatley, the fact that Andy and Steve had an early spurt was glossed over because JB and the digestive vacuum beat them anyway.>

James and John were worthy winners of the meeting, Andy and Steve got nearer to glory than ever before,

<I dont know if they have won a meeting before, and I cant be bothered to look, but if they havnt, its only a matter of time>

Julian and Cathy were even more ridiculous and outrageous than usual,

<we had a lovely time>

and the whole fleet enjoyed an excellent end to the season.

<I think everyone had a lovely time>

The class looks forward to returning to Carsington at the same time next year, after hosting the 1999 World Championship at Lee on the Solent.

<If lovely Sue Pelling doesnt print this plug for the worlds she deserves to meet Gordon late on a Saturday night>

Overall

1 John Best /James Cole, Lee on the Solent SC, (5) 2,2,1,1,1

2 Andy Moss / Steve Rockey, Grafam Water SC, (6) 1,1,2,2,2

3 Julian and Cathy Bridges, Clwb Hwylio Y Felinheli, (12) 3,3,3,3,dns

4 Peter Doran / Matt Stephenson, Oxford SC, (22) 6,4,4,rtd,dns

5 Nick Ennion / Chris Graham, Tynemouth SC, (23) 5,5,5,rtd,dns