President's September update
Sometimes one simply has to put down the pen, shove the paperwork aside and remember why we signed up for this glorious madness called South African Sailing in the first place.
Yes, the admin piles up like spinnaker sheets in a teenager’s bedroom, but every so often the cure is simple: go sailing. Which, I confess, is precisely what I’ve been doing. And oh, what joy it has been! Let me hoist the metaphorical spinnaker and share a few of the breezes that have recently filled the sails of my soul.
No sooner had the J22 trundled home from the Lipton Cup than I dragged the caravan to Stilbaai for the Dart Nationals. My personal mission in sailing has long been to make young male sailors green with envy – not with trophies, but with my succession of talented female crew. This time, it was the turn of our dear friend, Aziza, to join me.
The wind, however, had other plans. It huffed, puffed, and threatened to blow the spots clean off any dalmatian silly enough to stray near the water. We managed only two races before sanity prevailed. The results sheet? Let’s just say it didn’t love us back. But the event was spectacular and the winner – a Boskop sailor – made sure that our club “bookended” the fleet. I happily relinquished the top podium spot
Next came the Stadt 23 Nationals at LDYC. Twelve boats, a lively fleet, and enough good humour to float us through any wind shift. This time I had my very favourite crew alongside me – my marvellous wife – and as expected, our results improved dramatically. Podium finish! The Stadt sailors are as warm as they are competitive, and although they survived their jealousy (barely), I do believe they’re still recovering.
With confidence growing, Team Boskop decided to go bold. We cobbled together four boats – some crews seasoned, others still trying to tell the bow from the stern – but all bursting with enthusiasm. The regatta was a riot of laughter, near misses and spectacular recoveries. Once again, the winning boat flew the Boskop flag.
As one onlooker muttered: “What?! Quality AND quantity? How do they do it?” I smiled knowingly and let them stew in envy.
To avoid discouraging the competition, I decided to arrive at the Finn Nationals without a boat and, shockingly, without a dazzling crew in tow. (The things I do for morale.) The fleet was strong, the banter was better, and it was heartening to see such a wide spread of ages mixing it up. In the end, one of the youngest sailors claimed the trophy – no doubt aided by the absence of any distracting glamour on my part. Or perhaps, just perhaps, it was genuine skill.
After all this merriment, one thing struck me: across the country, there are still so many sailors who take to the water simply for the sheer pleasure of it. Yes, the competition is fierce. Yes, the results matter. But the real treasure lies in the camaraderie, the chirps, the laughter and the knowledge that win or lose, we’re richer for having been out there together.
Sailing is, after all, our core business. For me, it’s as much about listening to sailors’ dreams and challenges as it is about the skill required to: prosper in heavy, melodramatic winds or glide through a teasing cat’s paw across the water. Each outing is a reminder: it’s good to be alive, in good health, creating memories with those who share the passion.
Now, freshly wind-blown and sunburned in all the right places, I can return to the realities of legislative proposals and steering our wonderfully disparate sailing community. Because at the end of the day, it’s the fun, the banter and the friendships that make the paperwork worth it.
Fair winds until next time,
Michael.
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