Around we go together
With a slither and heave, the aged spinnaker flopped arthritically from its red bag and slowly filled.
The silence was profound, not even a snap from this limp, weird-hued sail.
“It looks like a potato,” whispered Oscar, son of boat owner Nik Williams.
“That was the Seventies on the phone; they want their sail back,” said another voice, which might have been mine.
An unkind observer might have pointed out that the elderly kite mirrored the age and condition of (half of) the crew, but this was our first outing all together and plans were afoot. The spinnaker’s owner, Nik Williams and his wife, Ruth, had committed themselves to the race in order to focus on life, adventure and achievement, having been bowled over not long before with Nik’s cancer diagnosis. They were intent on making a team of the crew, replacing the necessary equipment (spinnaker included) and getting the best out of themselves and Tantris, their venerable 1977 Contessa 32 – a boat that never fails to look after its owners and crew. I was on hand to help and to rekindle my deep connections with this race – an event that is part ritual, part pilgrimage for me and no doubt for many others as well.
Preparation
Choosing a crew, never mind getting them together is always difficult. Aside from me with a regular job as a
