This Sailing Life

After packing and attending to my few remaining chores I was over at the boatyard. Race Officer’s assistant for the final race of the Short Race Series. Great responsibility on our shoulders: I got to haul up the flags while the RO blew the horn. And off went the three competitors.
And then the RO (aka George) got out his thermos, two mugs and choccy biccies. This is the life, I did think.
And forty five minutes later the first of them, skippered by Tom and crewed by his dog, came back across the line. We blew the horn again. Yep. After Pole Star straggled home fifteen minutes later we weighed anchor and headed back to the pontoon.
And there was young K and even younger Jack offering me a can of beer! And a seat on their poop. Where we were joined by Tom and his dog.
That was enough excitement really but after I bade them adieu a shout went up. Man overboard! Three gallants rushed past me and launched Dumbo and sped towards a figure far across the harbour grimly holding onto his transom. Yep, definitely grimly.