Blood and Glory

It has come round again.

The time for the loyalest of my crew to 'play up, play up and play the game.'

At six am on Saturday morning we will cross the line at the largest yacht race in the world.

Ourselves and 1,600 other boats will treat the Isle of Wight as a large roundabout in the JP Morgan Round The Island Race 2007.

For nine hours we will brave the gusts and thunderstorms forecast as we thunder around the course with professionals, Corinthians, amateurs, have a gos and entertained clients in the melee.

A day messing about on boats:

The furious tacking duels to the line with the enemy a biscuit's toss off our transom...

The mad beat down past Gurnard, Newtown, Yarmouth Roads and Hurst narrows.....

The white knuckle ride through the gap by the Vargassi wreck and into the Freshwater bay...

The furious snap of the sheets as we speed hoist the spinnaker

Blood and sea water on the Forecastle as we gybe like dervishes towards the luff point at St Catherines in the back eddies.....

Eyes squinting into the sky as we concentrate on trim and exhaust ourselves with tension...

Cold tactics and judgement in Whitesands and the chase towards Bembridge ledge....

Avoiding the shifting Ryde sands and the line astern chase through Osborne Bay and the Shrape....

Running on nervous energy alone as we reach towards the finish line hunting for position.....

Wet elation as we cross the line and cue for the prize barge to collect our tankard and usual goody bag of chapstick, torch and other promotional tat....

Quiet satisfaction as we fold rain soaked sails away and sodden cups of tea and salt water sandwiches as we hunt for a slot in Cowes.....

Plasters for blistered hands....

Tablets for soreheads and tired muscles....

Bilgewater, diesel and urine filling salt crusted noses as the adrenaline wears off and we shelter
below as those with an ounce of strength bring us alongside....

The quiet satisfaction of being there and doing it....

To the uninitiated it is just a boat race.

To those on deck - we are Hornblower, Jack Aubrey, Cochrane and Nelson himself as we battle the elements and chase glory under a cloud of sailcloth.

Every sodden, cold and nerve wrenching second worth it for that grin of the bowman from under his storm hat and the download of our results on Sunday evening.

Monday morning black blue and still bone tired and passing your stiffened gait with the weekend excuses as 'Just Sailing.'

See you on the water for a day of the chops of the channel, action, blood, glory and treasure.

To my crew our orders are simple:

Close and Engage the Enemy. Sink, Burn or Take as a Prize.