Sonata Race 17th September

Today’s race report comes to you from the foredeck of Blue Tack.
With all crews mustered for the 14:30 start for the grandstand commodores day allcomers race with gusty force 3 or 4 nor wester blowing in sunny but chilly conditions the first decision for the day was number twos!
Whilst those with a full complement of hale and hearty crews went large, we being down a man were deliberating this when captain covid made the call, told us to put on our big boy pants and so we hanked on the number one.
The course for this event being up river it all felt a little odd jostling for position on the line the wrong way round, and in amongst boats of all shapes and sizes, but everyone got away cleanly I think, and we set off for the trip to Chatham hot on Watersongs heels.
On a flooding tide it was a fetch more or less to start with and then as the wind veered it became clear that spinnies were the order of the day for the last 200 metres or so to the mark. Having rigged for a port launch we were then left with the dilemma of the windward hoist which as became apparent we have not practiced very much, so whilst all the rest of the fleet majestically hoisted sails of all shapes, sizes and colours, all we managed to do was throw a tangled mess up into the air and for good measure snagged it on the spreaders too.
At this point the normal calm and serene air on Blue Tack got a little frosty as the gents in the comfy seats at the back were very helpfully pointing this out to yours truly whilst he battled valiantly with the hour glass of a sail, which by this point in time was now also in the water and threatening to go under the boat. After a few choice expletives all was once again calm and sensible heads decided to drop the tangled mess back in the bag in the hope we could sort this jumble out on the next leg for the next hoist.
Incredibly we did not lose much with all these shenanigans and rounded 3rd out of the Sonatas for the next leg back up to 31.
So off we went into the shallows we headed in pursuit of BD2 for the next leg against the tide. As everyone rounded the corner by the club once again the spinnakers went up and once again ours despite our grinders best efforts to untangle in the bag, went up twisted as twisty Mc twist face once again. however this time after clambering in the pulpit and much tugging, puffing and swearing the twist eventually came out and we were back under full power once more.
After rounding the mark there was a short beat back up to the club during which time it looked like our choice of number one may be our undoing as Screwloose, who were also 3 up and had elected for the number 2 made gains on us, but once we got back to reaching for the mark our superior sail area allowed us to open our lead on them back up so our choice was again exonerated.
All went well with the next leg getting to the mark with no further incidents to be met with multiple blasts of the horn (was it 2 or 3). At this stage we have to admit that our knowledge of the rules were not all they might be and we assumed the race had been finished early and so content with our performance set to a leisurely sail back to the mooring. Had we cake and beer on board by now the boat would be covered in crumbs and froth.
As I say, assuming the race was run, we snuck up behind what we assumed was BD2 also now no longer with their foot on the gas only for Alasdair to pull some crazy ivans on us which came as a shock to the now relaxing crew on Blue Tack.
And then the penny dropped that we might actually still be racing, so we assumed the position once more and got down to chasing the pack down to the club line and the finish.
There must be a moral in this, maybe sometimes we all try too hard and should just relax and let the universe do its thing and the universe will look after you, or maybe the moral is man up cupcake, get as much sail up as you can, fortune favours the bold.