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Ula - Day 6 - Boris



2011, I was the star of the show.  I stole the limelight.  I was king.  They proudly named me 'Boris - The Bullet Dodger (the famed un-killable Russian from the Guy Richie film 'Snatch', for those not in the know), and they even printed me on their "crew T-shirts" this year!  I was looking for a round two. This time, to better my best.

Two years ago I eagerly pulled through 40 knot squalls, achieved the top boat speed of 18 knots, and even took on the briny blue when a weak shackle dumped me.  I fought the bowsprit during this, and won.  I fought the anchor during this.  Sadly, I had tired while overcoming the bowsprit and I came off worst (it was a particularly savage anchor in my defence), but I was flying again after a quick fix. I even gave the bottom of the starboard hull a quick scrub while in the drink.  I never faltered afterwards.  So I was expecting pomp and ceremony.  Brass bands and whistles.  I thought I would be hanging high and pulling strong for the duration.

I have been in my big orange bag since day two.  Its stuffy, and a bit damp in here.  We have been beating, and motoring.  They said this was an ARC crossing!  I had been preparing. I had been exercising.  My luff and my leech were lean, my belly strong and my cringles were to die for.

They have strapped me to the trampoline with the other three inferior spinnakers, so I don't 'accidentally fly away'.  How ironic.

I'm bored.  I've been trampled on. I am starting to become claustrophobic and I feel more than a little left out.

Boris

TBC


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