21.6 knots! The boy is back!!
They decided last night to use me in a building breeze. My favourite! Skip was getting grumpy about motoring so much that we arranged a meeting. I understood that I was of no use in light winds, but he said there was some wind forecast, and there might be a chance for me to fly. It was decided that would be unleashed only if the wind was blowing over 25 knots. The breeze built, and exceeded all forecasts. The other spinnakers couldn't cope. Even the mainsail was dropped. We had 25 knots!
Me, by myself. I couldn't have been happier. I was excited about 25 knots true wind. I yawned at 30 knots. I laughed off 35 knots. 40 knots tho, truly tickled me. "Give me a big following sea now!" I yelled. Sure enough, after the sun rose, and after the inevitable downer of a lull at sunrise, the wind was back. The sea built. I got the boat surfing. 13 knots became 14. 14 became 16. Then the crew were all whooping as I brought us to 18. They apparently liked it. I liked that they liked it, but it looked like I would struggle to beat my previous record of 18.1 knots. Then I saw the perfect wave. With a sustained gust of 39 knots true, and with both transoms perfectly aligned, the autopilot found his head and finally steered straight. Straight down the wave, it was a big one, and long. The speed built, the boat hummed, then buzzed. The speedo trembled. Faster and faster, I got so carried away that I didn't take into account the now very quickly approaching trough. At 21.6 knots I ploughed both bows straight into that huge beckoning, yawning trough! With a plume of water that hit the cockpit, the wave smashed into the saloon windows, and the boat quickly came to a standstill. I heaved and lifted with all my might, and brought the bows back to the surface. I thought I had gotten away with it. I hoped nobody had noticed.
It was noticed though, and I realised I must have pushed too hard, as the crew all quickly ran forward and began to take me down. They struggled. I resisted, and resisted some more. I didn't want to come down! "I am Boris, and I can take more!" I screamed as I was eventually defeated, scooped in like a giant genie in a bottle. But as I fought, the crew struggled. There were elbows in faces, lots of swearing, and even some blood. I may have been defeated, but I reduced both Julian and Anthony to physical wrecks! Medic says that Julians foot shouldn't need amputated.
Ah well, its morning and I'm back in my big orange bag, strapped again to the trampoline. But I had fun! I flew big, and beat my record!
I can't wait until my next outing.
Boris