We turned up at the sailing club for our first lesson on Saturday. The sea was a bit choppy and so we got down to the theory of tacking and assembling the boats. We watched a video about sailing life and had a nice lunch in the clubhouse. This is the life, I thought, yes, I could get used to this!
After lunch we were told that conditions were ok and that we would go out in the training boat. There was a great deal of excitement and we were told to help ourselves to a wetsuit from the shed. The ladyfriend and I sifted through a selection of suits, some of which had holes in (no doubt from shark bites) and grabbed a life jacket. Now, I was quite surprised. I thought if I put a wet suit on I'd look faintly ridiculous, my larger bits would be enhanced and I'd end up like a string of sausages but it's not the case. Infact, wetsuits are slimming! They hold you in, shaving pounds off all over. Happy with my hour glass figure I made my way out to the shoreline.
Surf was up. Within seconds of pushing the boat from the trailer into the sea the ladyfriend was over, she plunged into the sea and I grabbed her before the boat ran over her head. Then our fellow pupil jumped into the boat then clung to the boat on all fours. I jumped in as wave after wave pounded our vessel. The ladyfriend managed to scramble in which just left Harry our instructor. Harry was the straw that broke the camel's back. With a sudden rush the boat capsized. I was trapped under the sail and the ladyfriend sank toward the sea bed. I sprang to the surface in panic, got back into the boat unable to breathe through shock. The ladyfriend was left on the shore and I waved as we sailed out, salt water streaming from my nose - what have we done?
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