The Hayling Open - Return of the Black Pudding

We have a little bit of history, Hayling and I.

1980 something - Blowing a force 5-6 and heading for home the wind over tide had built big breaking waves over the bar. I kept stacking it till I was exhausted. Struggling to get the boat upright the tide tried to push the moth onto the bar platform. Matchwood would have been the result. I've only been rescued twice in my sailing career and this was the first. That was in a Magnum 6 ...

2007 .. My shin bone carries a scar. A Hayling scar. A big nose dive in my mistress at Hayling threw me at the shroud plate and my leg took the blow. I should have had it stitched. A fond visual memory though, as I really enjoyed the event!.

2008 and the Tide Ride. Hayling really took it out of me. Mainly my stomach lining and the black pudding.

So Hayling and I had unfinished business. Till this year, and the open.

Arriving in the car park I met "new" mothies Phil and Johnnie. Great to see such enthusiasm, boat building talent and focused spirit. Cheers for the comment Phil - but I only unlock my joviality at moth events! My default setting is usually pretty downbeat.

Rigging up I was unusually nervous. We headed out and had a great downwind blast to the line. And then the breeze went patchy as an apache patchwork quilt with patches on. F1-4 all played out over a swell left from the night before. My new wand was a ventilating beast so i was running an experimental one - which seemed to work in a f3 on flat poole harbour water. But this was different and all the races on day one were screwed as a result. Porpoising upwind i was cursing as i got hammered down the pan. These boats are so so sensitive to wands and the sublest of changes. It can all go it a bit Jekyll and Hyde with just the odd little alterations in set up.

So a tad upset after such a weak performance I headed for the bar.... and no one was there! The club that was a pumping night club at the tide ride was now a museum - all it needed was a ball of tumbleweed blowing through. So no Gary and no Booner to help me get wasted. And the tiller of doom was safely back in Poole. And that saved me. I turned in early....

and was woken at the crack of dawn by a howling breeze.

And then we went in for breakfast. And there it was, and I swear it was staring back at me....

The Black Pudding. I said I wouldnt do it again... I didnt need it... but of course .... I did. And it was bad, and so good.

In the dinghy park I swopped out that devil of a wand and back in went my old faithful. I was still missing the old wand plate that was better than this new one - but hey ho, we can live with it. For the first time at an event I was first on the the beach and maybe first to launch. The ride to the line was great with a big breeze and big waves - working the boat and hearing Rohans Garda advice - keep on the crests... It was a great days racing - hard physical stuff with big speeds and then big lulls to deal with.

My gybing was ragged as I mistimed the waves, gybed into holes and screwed the laylines. But blimey, I was downwind duelling with Mike Lennon and was a few hundred metres after Si P at one finish... a buzz after getting lapped by these guys at Parkstone only a year ago. I had lent James Roche my spare foil and now he was well back on form, and giving me a right old fight round the course. Clearly he forgot my words "you can borrow the foil as long as you keep behind me" as overtake me upwind he did, working his boat like he was on a third date with no time to waste! Johnny H was quick and impressive given such short time in a moth, and we had a close big speed l'ward mark water call event, and after cutting through him I then skidded offwind after the mark towards him. (Apols for that one Johnny!).

Si P was blistering in the Mach2, and Mikes experience and coolness keeping us whipper snappers at bay. And the quick quiet one - Andrew Friend. Hats off to you, seemed like you floated silently round the course so fast while we made such a noisy drama of it all. And someone else was also on big form, giving me a headache upwind with his dogged high and fast pointing. Way to go Jase.. good on you cobber or whatever they say in NZ (but you were probably getting tips from the invisible "Jiff").

And there were almost photo finishes on the line. And Booner got air just as he crossed and treated us to a killer whale of a launch and crash. Great racing, great company.

And the black pudding never saw the light of day. Which was nice.

So its never over till the fat lady is ready to sing. I was down on day one, but back in the saddle and up and flying again on day two.

And heres to the next one -

It just gets better and better, and richer and richer.