Day five in Bellingham didn’t disappoint—unless you were short-handed, like us. The breeze was up early, a solid 18 to 20 knots right out of the gate, and the sea state matched: steep chop, big gusts, and serious pressure.
We had three races lined up, but we were down a crew member and it showed. With only four people aboard, we were fighting to keep the boat under control. The boat was fast and pointing well enough, but in those conditions, we were desperate for extra weight on the rail to steady things out. Without it, we got tossed around like a toy boat in a washing machine.
Complex maneuvers? Forget it. We were overwhelmed—physically and tactically—and it showed in the results. We got hammered in all three races, finishing somewhere around fifth or sixth each time. The details are a bit fuzzy; I think I’ve blocked it out.
It was the kind of day that rewards a fully crewed, dialed-in team—and punishes anyone shorthanded. By the time we got the boat back on the trailer and packed up, I was wiped out. Utterly drained. We wrapped up the regatta sitting in fourth overall, just missing the podium. Not the ending we hoped for, but still our best performance at Race Week to date.
We held third place three out of five days, and had some of our cleanest, fastest sailing ever. The competition was fierce but fun—especially Zephyr and her crew, who ultimately edged us out for third. Racing them was an absolute blast. The kind of rivalry where you’re trading barbs, cheering each other on, and cracking jokes every time your boats cross paths. That’s what good racing is all about.
So yeah, I’m disappointed we didn’t hang onto a podium finish. But honestly? This week was a gift. Five straight days of champagne sailing, steady breeze, and great people. I’ve never seen a race week deliver so consistently on conditions. I’m running on adrenaline and ibuprofen, totally rung out, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We left it all on the water. And that, my friends, is how you finish a regatta.
Blur Racing 
Leave a comment