Boom!

Last weekend, I crewed on Knot Again in the Keyport Yacht Club Bill Volks Cup in aid of Leukemia. Last year we won the B1 non-spinnaker Class. This year in addition to some tough competition from Keyport we faced our own clubmate on Forbidden, a fast boat with a great pedigree. As ever, I was on starboard winch, partnering with my pit-mate Jeff. The regatta was a two-day affair, with 3 races on Saturday and 2 on Sunday. We won the first and third race on Saturday but came last in the second as we got the headsail fouled-up on the pole drop. Sunday we were second and third. We ended the weekend second overall with Forbidden in first. (We got our revenge on Wednesday by winning the mid-week race against Keyport, taking first in a fleet of 15 boats). It was an eventful weekend physically. Winching on these fairly short races is a surprisingly good work-out but it was also eventful in a couple of other ways. Firstly, on Saturday, I made the mistake of standing up to tall over the winch on a tack. The traveler was released accidentally and the boom flew to starboard on the tack, smacking me across the head at speed. So that's how the boom got its name. It cut me pretty badly and I bled like a stuck pig all over the winch. I was lucky. It was glancing blow. If the boom had been an inch or so lower, it would have probably knocked me out. I went to ER that evening. Fortunately the wound did not require stitches and was simply cauterized. Sunday, was equally eventful. Basically I slipped while standing on the lazarrette and barked the hell out of my shin. It was bloody painful and I let out a loud Anglo-Saxon expletive. The 12-year old lad who was on board was delighted by this and even more so when I showed him the wound. "Cool" were his exact words. The irony is that I played rugby for 7 years and soccer forever but never suffered anything but a few knocks and grazes. My worst sporting injuries have all been sailing. Who says it's a genteel sport? In future I will be suiting up for regattas like an NFL player.