Chasing Waves – Regatta and Waves
The old timber mast groaned and flexed hard under the strain of the sudden gust. Captain Chris Blaire settled deep on his heels while becoming the single stabilizing mechanism that set the balance between the wide apron of the fully exposed body of sails and that of the rudder that cut at the deep angle within the blue waters of the Andaman. The hull of the 125 foot sailing vessel named Silvia, plowed south on a buried starboard rail and had much of the inexperienced crew clinging to portions of aft deck. Others played hard at keeping floored sails from being dragged overboard by the racing ocean that was tearing over a good length of her downward open deck. As the moments swiftly passed and it became evident that the crew on hand was not mentally equipped to deal with a needed swift upcoming tack around the race buoy, Chris forfeited the race and gracefully steered Silvia and her crew well outside and away from the ongoing race.
Rosy skies were being reflected off the eyes of all the sailors. The heavens burgundy glow continued to recede west over the soft hills of south Phuket while a lingering scent that accompanied a slack tide ocean, permeated the cove. Overhead Chinese lanterns gently swayed in the easterly breeze, while the exaggerations of the past race week accomplishments began to grow with every drink consumed. Red, blue, and green mast lights swayed gently at odds with one another and laid down scribbling beams of hypnotic light lines atop the glassy surface of the sea.
Perched up against the far end of the makeshift bar was Daniel Parks, a young California transplant that seemed eternally high on life and very comfortable within his own skin. Fixed permanently with a wide grin, Daniel held a freshly poured Gin and tonic over his head, dancing it back and forth while pointing his index finger my way. Joining him out side of the main crowd, we watched on as the awards ceremony played itself out. Egos large and small bathed under the harsh overhead light, fetched their recognition's while drowning in cheap booze. Soon, our conversation veered far from the party to a place we both yearned for. Just back from a trip from Aceh Sumatra, Daniel was still dripping wet in the memories of the surf he had just scored.
He openly spoke of the waves he had caught and was quick to mention that he thought we would be expecting a swell any day off Phuket. As our conversation meandered around the waves of south East Asia, she suddenly appeared out of now where. A tall Thai beauty with a water fall of straight black hair that showcased her ageless complexion silently walked her way passed the both of us while shedding a slight smile before disappearing into the crowd. My impulse was to follow but Daniel was quick to halt my intentions as he reminded me that the prettiest things in the land of Siam were either nothing more than a curse on legs or actually men made into woman.
