Three of us served as Race Committee last night. It's been so long since I pulled that duty, I felt like a third thumb. But my other two cohorts came with their brains attached to their hands, so we got by. And the Shaws are beautiful as they work together. They have it down. Flags and placards up and down with the regular cadence of the audibles. More to it than I had thought.
More important to the racers, too. Our Fleet is always the first to go, so our attention is not so much riveted on the RC Deck, looking for flags. See placard. See watch. Hear horn. Go. But, of course, it was critical that other boats knew it was not their turn to clog the traffic on the start line. Elementary.
Last night's racers had a good breeze, but it was more than brisk. Down right chilly. Even the racers felt that way, even if they were moving a bit more than we.
I took time to glance down at our empty slip. Boat's still on the hard because the weather is dictating the painting schedule. I need to spend more time starring at that empty slip to experience what's it going to feel like in the future. We'll race her again before she's done with us, because TW will not accept the first offers she attracts. But it's not going to be the same: she's got her orders.
I also took time to watch the magic of the one design classes, imagining being aboard, learning something new, moment by moment. I'm thinking, also, that racing OPB won't be the same.