The Escapees get ready to race
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Mon 28 Mar 2011 19:42
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It's the night before the first day of the BVI
regatta. You'd probably expect that we'd spend the evening in quiet
contemplation, perhaps swotting up on race tactics, double checking the course
co-ordinates or perhaps running through some gentle exercise... Not a bit of it.
I'm scoffing M&Ms back on Summer Song and dreaming about
supper.
We'll be sailing Ian's 53-footer for glory against
a fleet that includes many similar boats, and we've spent much of the day fine
tuning our sailing technique. We've sailed around the island of Tortola over the
last two days and had the gigantic main and genoa up in a hefty 27 knot gust of
wind today. At one point, we got knocked so far over by a gust from the
mountains that Alex's father slid clean across the foredeck and was only saved
from a dousing in the drink by the guard wires. He sustained some nasty
scratches to the arm and was just recovering when another accident saw me
conking him (gently) on the head with the outboard motor. My poor father-in-law
now no doubt fears that I'm going to try to finish him off tomorrow in the heat
of the race.
Tortola really is a sailing paradise; the wind
blows a fairly constant 15-20 knots, but the waters are well protected by the
ring of outer islands, leaving a huge expanse of relatively flat sea to sail
about in. The islands are volcanic and rise quite steeply out of the water,
dotted with numerous little sandy beaches. and, wherever there's a beach, there
seems to be a shack selling drinks and food. Last night we got stuck into an
establishment that goes by the name of 'da Loose Mongoose'. Our skipper and host
Ian remembered the place from a holiday six years ago, when there was live music
from a fellow who played Jimi Hendrix guitar solos behind his head and with his
teeth. Extraordinarily enough, the unmistakable riffs of Purple Haze broke out
at about 11pm, when Ian realised with delight that it was the same guy playing.
The only thing that appeared to have changed was that he had an adorable
five-year old daughter who sang a series of salsa classics in a slightly
falsetto tone.
Of the 17-strong group, we know five people, but
there's a good astmosphere onboard. We're split between the racer, Los
Escapados, and the catamaran, whose function is largely cocktail-based. Alex and
I have lucked out with the best berth on the racer, taking up the entire saloon
on a table that cleverly turns into a bed. Apart from Alexis and Rita, there's a
very bubbly Spanish girl called Beatriz and some very sweet Belgian couples.
There's a chap called Paul, at present skippering the cat, who once sailed a
week-long race in an 18-foot Hobie Cat and was runner-up in the European
championships.
Tonight we're back in Road Town, Tortola, ready for
the off tomorrow. The racer urgently needed to have the hull scraped clean of
barnacles and her name applied to the bow (she's brand new). Due to an
unfortunate cock-up on the stencilling front, the stickers with the boat's name
on read:
Los Escapadas Glasgo, Scotland Now, as students of the Spanish language and tapas
fans will be aware, 'los' is the masculine definite article, but the noun
'escapadas' sports a feminine ending. This, then, is akin to calling the boat
'he's a woman'. Ian took it all in tremendously good spirits, seeming more
amused than anything by the abbreviation of his native Glasgow. As he pointed
out, it could be first time that a boat registered in the mythical Scottish town
of Glasgo ever wins a sailing event. Maybe the error will bring us
luck...
Ian in the world's largest yacht chartering centre:
Tortola
 Alex and her dad at the helm
 Rita and Alexis
 Beatriz
 Pelicans were diving over swimmers' heads to get
mouthfuls of whitebait
 Los Escapados floating off Cane Garden Bay, where
we had lunch
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