The Moment of Truth

A sitting duck - that was how I felt during the last few hours of this race. It was down to the tacticians, the wind gods and dare I say it a certain amount of luck to decide where we would finish. As crew all we could do was sit and wait. We were instructed to put all of our weight on the far left side close to the bow in order to obtain the most efficient position through the water. The skipper requested that we all remained focused and kept up our effort; this was certainly a different type of focus and effort to what I was used to as an athlete.

It is hard to believe that after racing for sixteen days the last few hours of sailing could still change the top six positions. For us (Jamaica Get All Right) it had seemed ours to lose at the half way point as we collected three extra points for crossing the scoring gate in front of the field. A few brave decisions on the course cost us dearly and proved to be a gamble that frustratingly did not pay off. All of this information was coming to us via satellite until twenty four hours ago when we caught sight of one of the opposition. By race finish today three other yachts were in view as we watched with baited breath debating among ourselves whether we were in front or behind. This could sound obvious but I have discovered nothing in ocean sailing is obvious.

I personally felt moving my position by a few metres was unlikely to make the required difference. It is impossible to prove but all of us moving that distance must have had an impact. One of our sturdier crew members even took his effort one step further and whilst remaining within the rules with his feet inside he used his weight and leant out as far as possible. The clock struck twelve and we knew there was nothing else we could have done.

The suspense was painful. Varying theories were being thrown around, some more positive than others. Our target had been the podium and four hours ago, when in fourth place, it had seemed feasible as we were consistently gaining on the front runners with hardly a thought for those behind us. As the positions were calculated it started to dawn on us that we were actually fighting for those smaller places and suddenly we were desperate for that fourth place. Silence swept the deck when it was revealed we had devastatingly dropped to sixth. On the chart we had equalled Great Britain’s distance to the finish yet been awarded the place behind them due to a rule the race organisers adopt in the case of a tie. After sailing over three thousand miles it seemed incomprehensible that we could have matched our rivals to the metre but we were not ready to accept defeat. On closer inspection, and the use of a further decimal point, those extra efforts had paid off. We had beaten Great Britain by a mere three boat lengths. Suddenly fifth place and those valuable extra points felt like a victory. On a personal level I must admit - beating compatriot and England Rugby player Ollie Philips into fifth place and successfully sailing across the North Atlantic Ocean deserves a celebration.