They’ve raised the blue flag or whatever that flag is. There is no wind. They’re paused the race.
You heave-to in the middle of no where. You’re on a pico, in the company of a crew, a partner, a friend, a really close friend. You close your eyes. The sea is calm. The swaying boom makes little squeaky sounds. You like it. The currents aren’t strong but the boat is bobbing a bit. It feels like being in a sarong. Feels like being a baby again.
You close your eyes,. The sun is blazing. You love that warmth on your cheeks. At the back of the head, you hear your sister’s voice nagging at you. UV rays destroy your skin. Fuck that.
You tilt your head back leaning on your oversize life jacket. The sea rocks you to sleep. You hear chatters of the other IJ sailors. You feel safe with them around. They’re laughing now. They must be capsizing their boats on purpose to have a swim in the sea. Someone’s peeing. They laugh somemore.
Since this is all imaginary, let’s add a beer your hand. You’ve got a beer in your hand. You gulp it, then lie back down. You dip your toes in the water. It’s nice and cool. You wish the race never started. You wish the race ended sooner.
The wind picks up. You enjoy the last of the sun’s warmth. You wish silently that the storm wouldn’t come. But you’ve had far too many experiences – that’s the way it is. Calm before the storm. It starts to drizzle.
The storm’s here.
