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Sarah Mercedes - From The Haff

Madness. The idea of putting oneself into a (relatively) tiny vessel and embarking on a journey across an expanse of water that has separated continents for millennia might seem like an act of unnecessary recklessness. Yet it is there. And like mountains that need to be climbed or depths that need to be dived, through this we must also forge a path. Just because.

The experience did not disappoint. Despite the potential for clashes of personality when cramming people, most of whom are unknown to each other, into a space smaller than a Bocce court, the crew worked in synchronicity (most of the time) to get the job done. Not just done, but exceedingly well done.

Thanks to the man behind the curtain (the all knowing and all powerful wizard of clouds) our course blazed a path that few dared traverse. Either through naive exuberance or valiant courage, we dove headlong into it and came out the other side more/less unscathed - save for the odd broken ribs or sunburnt scalp.

Our misfortune on the penultimate day was, to be sure, a frustration. With our nemesis in sight, we had no choice but to drop sail and motor the last 70nm. The fact that we finished 2nd on our class says it all.

And, yes, Spag Bol forever.

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