Two days on the wet stuff......is this a miracle?
On Saturday WSM did not look anything like the postcards offered for sale. No inviting Mediterranean assure sea, no blue skies and funeral pyre instead of the old pier. The local paper was reporting he new WSM passtime: shops have sold out of metal detectors as everyone goes prospecting for the slot machine takings. (I not convinced this story stands up to any scrutiny though).
Lots of wind and rain were forecast, and there was less than expected of both. The beach was also deserted with just 4 boards out before high tide and four more arrived latter complaining of two hours journey times.
Fortunately I missed the worst of the rush and arrived a couple of hours before high tide: only to find there there was little wind. After a while a little breeze filled in, so I set sail on the 7.5 and Angulo Super Gu 112. It was a typical southerly, flat and gusty; but, I had a very pleasant hour blasting in and out. Came in for some refreshment at high tide, only to find the wind had dropped on my return. Someone on a 11 sq m kept planning and Ian K managed a few runs on his 8.5. I felt sorry for the late arrivals who had struggled through the traffic only to find the wind had deserted them. One guy with an Internet enabled phone dialed into XC weather which showed it was blowing above Weston, below Weston, to the East and West.....but not at Weston
Sunday was an altogether better day and i was out on the Fanatic Hawk and the 5.8. As mentioned earlier, a gusty SW produced a wonderful bump and jump session. Although I played with the downhall a number of times, this was a great combination for the conditions. There was significantly more wind than forecast and some sharp squalls, which were not on the agenda at all.
The Catalonia air force came swooping down on me a number of times - having been hiding somewhere upwind - which produced some friendly rivalry. On balance, board speeds were fairly evenly matched although my inability to go round corners and go over waves did leave me at a significant disadvantage. In my old racing days there were not many corners or waves, which used to play to my strengths.
I reached the point where I was feeling nicely knackered, but the conditions were so inviting I thought I would go for that one last sail. I can't remember why I came off, but I was being hammered by the white water as I slowly attempted to sort myself and my kit out. Being tired did not help. It was at this moment that I was hit by a wild squall that came though.
I thought of staying put while it blew itself out, however I did not fancy being blow down onto the pier (or at least without a metal detector

). I tried a half heated water start, which was converted into an immediate catapult and even more swimming and cramp. A second, more determined, attempt lifted me onto the board and with the back hand as far back along the boom as possible, I made my way home luffing all the way. 'One last run' is one of those tempting little traps I fall into now and again.
This is the second time I have sailed home like this in one season and I have only been on the water about 5 times!
Anyhow I finished the day feeling elated but cream crackered.
A cracking day out.
