The first thing you notice about Lapwing sailors is they say the “S word” a lot…
Not the one that ends in T. The one that ends in K.
They don’t even say the C word. I mean capsize, I hasten to add. And, now I understand why.
Last week was my first week sailing a Lapwing.
I was greeted with. “It might be quite windy for a Lapwing.” Only a handful of serious racers, will be out, I was told. “It’s like a game of chicken on the start line. If one goes out (rather than retiring on the shore). Then we all have to go. Otherwise, you see, the only one who goes, claims the points for the race.”
Not sure I fully qualified as being a “serious sailor part” I replied helpfully saying “don’t worry, I can swim.” The reply I just caught over the sound of the wind was: “I’m not worried about you, I’m worried about the boat. Things can break in this wind.”
I was looking at the very sturdy looking 12 ft 6 wooden dinghy, and I couldn’t help but thinking, most parts of me, are likely to break, a lot quicker than it.
Tringa, our vessel, is 70-years-old. One of the classic Lapwing fleet originally designed by Morgan Giles in 1947 specifically for Aldeburgh Yacht Club. At one point, the fleet consisted of 70 boats, they are all named after birds. It really does feel like a beautiful thing, to be part of their history, sailing on the Alde.
Review of the week: well, we didn’t start well. 2 capsizes (I can concur Lapwings, unlike modern dinghies, when they CAPSIZE, they SINK when they go over, and the only recovery is to bail with a bucket and be unceremoniously towed home).
But hey, we were not alone in the going over… or in coming home with sailing stories. One boat’s mast snapped in the wind, a very sad sight indeed.
I was happy (and very entertained), the next day, to see it already adorned with a new mast, that an unrelated club member happened to have had stashed away as a “relic” in their garden.
Some of the Lapwings racing with us, in-the-club-bar history-tellings revealed once sat around unused in sheds, and were salvaged from nearly being retired and made into furniture.
The Lapwing holds fierce loyalty, often boats finding their way back onto the water when a relation dies, and a younger generation revives their craft to get it back sailing again in their honour. Sail number 1 Lapwing was raced by its original lady owner for 70 years. And is now raced by her daughter.
We went on to have one (nearly victorious) second place and two respectable finishes in the middle of the pack. And some fun and full on sailing.
I am still processing the second by second, relentlessly focused, direction I was given by one of the best helms I have sailed with. As the week went past, I began to fully understand and appreciate the sailing legend (who has raced the Southern Ocean) I was sailing with and the real privilege that was.
I stopped counting at 101 incidental bruises, none of which I noticed getting at the time. Three are the size of my hand. I estimate around 15% of my body is purple or blue. Oh and then there was my one very minor (but quite dramatic looking) head injury from slightly catching myself on the kicking strap as the boom came over. Recalling in genuine laughter 3 near faints.
From the helm on seeing blood streaming down my face and flying past in the wind. On my absolute protest I was fine (I really was it looked worse than it was) – I was instructed not to get blood on the sail and we finished the race without a pause.
The nice man that helped us pull the boat out of the water who initially thought I was a red head… I am not
Then me, when I finally looked in the mirror. No blood on the sails I’m pleased to report.
It feels incredibly satisfying and hugely mentally healthy to have thrown myself so physically into the racing. It was by no means a breeze. But I absolutely loved every moment.
We just missed out on winning a trophy for our second place. But Sarah my helm, gave me “my own piece of elastic” wrapped around a tonic water (private joke). And her husband Simon, racing separately, gave me one of his own trophies as a souvenir of the week. As I somewhat tearfully accepted both, though we may not have been in a winning place, I was in no doubt, that in another much more meaningful way, I had won.
I am so, so grateful for the experience. And the people that I find around me. There were so many welcoming, inclusive, caring, encouraging and downright hilarious moments I shared with so many inspiring people I met Aldeburgh Regatta 2023.
Knowledge. Pass it on. It is the greatest gift. When I have enough, I vow, so will I.
