The bottom of the aluminium dinghy was inches deep in fresh water from a semi tropical downpour. My boat shoes were so sodden, that if I were to loose a bet and had to eat my shoes, they would have slipped down easily. A heavy swell was lifting the dinghy high into the air and the anchor rope was wrenching the nose back down into the next trough with a wicked pull that I thought might just as easily give me permanent whiplash. My partner was sitting on the front thwart sodden from head to toe even though she was wearing her full length wet weather gear. The rain and the salt spray from the chop was just getting into everything. But as a doting parent I hardly noticed any of the discomfort.

My 'one and only' was racing in his first national 29er skiff titles. While being no stranger to watching him in dinghies at national level this was a whole new ball game. Gone is the dependence on the parent to lift and tote the boat. Gone is the close camaraderie and socializing of many of the dinghy classes. The youngsters now stand aloof and "cool", carry their own boats and work on their own training and coaching schedules. A lot now are also licensed drivers and don't need any help to even transport their boat. It can sort of leave you feeling somewhat shattered losing their dependence, but they still need financing!

It seemed as if the whole fleet of 38 boats had passed us by. It was very difficult to discern one boat from the other. The grey blanket of rain partially opens as each boat slips over the finish line, some carrying spinnakers and some under main and jib only due to the strong almost gale force winds. The numbers on the sails are not easily discernable without powerful and waterproof binoculars. We haul up the anchor, start the outboard and proceed to follow the fleet home. One last glance over my shoulder shows a lone skiff still carrying it's purple kite appearing like a wraith out of the gloom. It's him, perched out on the wire of the trapeze with his skipper hiking out beside him, nosing the boat through the rough chop. They were last by a long shot. But they had finished the race, at least that is what I thought.

To me this was rather foreign racing in many respects. The 29er skiffs only do a windward leeward course and at the bottom mark they proceed through a gate of two buoys. Depending on which one they round shows which side of the course they are going to favour on the next work, port or starboard. The finish boat can also raise a flag that may indicate that the race is to continue for one more leg, as well as I assume being able to shorten a race in progress. The finish is always to leeward so it is rather spectacular with spinnakers flying. I also learned that each race had a maximum time limit to finish (60 minutes) and each boat had to finish within 12 minutes of the leader.

This rule consequently had our novices not finishing races even though they had completed the course. Lots more to learn I feel. This makes for fast races with quick turn around between races. In these nationals (2002) it was decided to race three races a day but due to poor weather conditions on the first two days, eleven races were sailed over three days all back to back. Fitness levels of these elite athletes would not be questioned. Many worked without support boats to carry their water bottles and food. They just put their heads down and got on with it.