By the time the race finally began, I was one beer and two Dramamine deep, and was fighting a nervous pit rapidly forming in my stomach. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing and trust me, everyone knew it. Matt seemed comfortable in his spot, even though I sort of suspected that he was faking it a bit.
To up the ante even more, the two other boats in our class were GOOD. One was this 50+ foot beauty of a boat with a crew of about 20. They were like, America’s Cup material. The boat had a dark gray mainsail which actually eclipsed the sun when it passed by us. It was like the freakin’ Black Pearl… sneaking up on us enough to throw us off, then vanishing into the distance-it was that fast. The other boat was crewed by a team of about 10 Navy midshipmen who had probably been racing boats since they were in diapers. Seriously, it was A NAVY SAILING BOAT, crewed by a team of twentysomethings. I mean, come on! Even if half their crew were amputees with one arm and no legs, they would probably still out sail us. I apologize for not getting pictures, but I was frantically trying to manage lines and not fall off the boat and into the water during this time.