Terrible Beauty, Tuesday, June 7, 08

Environmentalists, conservationists, ecologists, naturalists-call them what you like, they all suffer from incredible naivete. Where they see beauty, I see the survival of the fittest. Where they see a collective mind and a natural order, I see malicious intent. Where they see grace, I see violence.

Where they see just another Norwesterly like the Norwesterly that cursed me two weeks ago, I see the Heart of Darkness.

It is Tuesday night at the Rat, and I am compelled to sail lest I fall below the 50-per-cent-of-races-run line that drops a competitor out of the standings, and that hateful, blustery, shifty malicious wind is back (or still there, having waited?) It could not have more accurately reflected the wind that broke me two weeks ago. Even Jamie, bless his heart, as if by some evil hand, set up the course exactly the same, with a port favoured line and a port favoured beat. You started on starboard, sailed 50 feet, tacked to port, and waited till you could tack and round. Sailing back to the beach saw the only change. It was Joseph Conrad in place of Dylan Thomas.

I will not go on. My results speak for themselves. In six races, my best finish was a third, and my worst a 7 out of about 10 boats. I learned nothing but that nature is cruel. I rigged up, I sailed, I went home. Good on you Tobin, Joe, and Ken, Richard, et al. You are better men than me.