Wednesday Night Racing in Opua
02 November 2022
by robin
Wednesday night sailboat racing is a tradition around the globe. It breaks up the week and keeps sailors on their toes. Our day has been quiet, Karl resting his leg as I worked on my lecture for Wellington. In early evening the familiar horns started blowing. One set telling the boats, the countdown to the race was about to start then the countdown and then the rattle of a failed start or a general recall. The wind is blowing strongly up the river. I have dinner staged and I decide to take a spin on my bike as tomorrow rain is forecast. I had hoped Karl could go out to dinner with our boat buddy friends and Karl had hoped to go for a bike ride. We let both those plans go to let his leg rest more. Today Nee Zealand friend new and old reached out to offer help.
When I arrive on the long dock there is little interest in the racing a 5 year old dashes up and down on his three wheeled scooter. He is apparently unattended on this two story high dock with no railings but clearly loved as he is wearing a bright green helmet. I can keep up with the racers upwind but they pass me downwind. There are 10 boats: two large 40 foot boats with crews of 10 and eight smaller 20-30 performance racing monohulls darting In between the less maneuverable big boats. All are heading back towards the clubhouse looking for another start.
At home the races are run by a team of volunteers on a boat anchored In the middle of the Hudson. Here the race committee are perched in the attic of the clubhouse overlooking the starting line. On the deck below a beer drinking crowd is watching. When start horn sounds over their heads they jump in unison. Wednesday racing here is handicapped with the boats starting together but having their finish times corrected for their theoretical speed. A smaller slower boat finishing later can beat a bigger faster boat the time is corrected. Friday races are pursuits or mark 4 race where the starts are staged according to a boats theoretical speed so the first over the line is the winner.
On the deck I meet the Gerald the doctor from cerebral sabbatical. He insists Tasmania is very far south. New Zealand extends further south than Tasmania. He tells me a polar bear joke he thinks I should include in my lecture. There are no polar bears in Antarctica. He tell me how they were the 20th boat into a country that had just opened. It is time to head back to the boat to cook dinner.
After dinner the horns are still sounding as the racing fleet crosses the finish line. We are settled in for a Wednesday night movie festival on the Mabel Rose.
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