In a real duel, someone gets to die. In a tacking duel - you just get to keep tacking.
So it was today, 187-million tacks later, that we ended up with a 4-3 record. Pretty good, but should have won them all. Now, we think, we're 'fine tuned' for the rest of the regatta.
'Trouble is, so are the rest of the girls.
Sitting on my bed eating leftover CPK pizza, nursing one now-tepid beer, having saturated myself to utter prune-dom in the jacuzzi, I'm reflecting on the day. Sandy - compact, feisty, sharp-as-a-tack - knows what she wants and just how to do it ... Amanda - all 5' tall, 120lb of her pure muscle - throws her whole body into tailing the sheet the way only a 20-something can (with still pliable bones and resilient muscles) ... Adreana is at one point near tears, having been reamed for a task (I blame the language barrier) while Cindy hurls over the side (really impressive projectile vomiting - we are discussing the use of 'vomit as a weapon') and both rally phenomenally ('puke & rally!' became our battle-cry!) when the next rounding approaches. I'm SO impressed with the team and - as cliche as it sounds - really honored to be racing with them.
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