Fremantle, Western Australia

Fremantle, Western Australia



After nearly six months of Cup watching in Auckland, it was wonderful to get home again. Much as I love the "City of Sails", there is no place like home, especially when you live in paradise - otherwise known as Fremantle. That first view of the Indian Ocean when I return from a trip, always stirs the emotions, whether it is by day or night. If in daylight it is the intensity of the blue in contrast to the golden sandy beaches. If at night, the winking navigation lights in the midst of the blackness are a tantalizing reminder that it is there for work and play when the sun rises. Then there is the Swan River, a large area of well protected water, almost deserted for most of the week, but then on a Saturday afternoon, so crowded with sailboats that at times it appears you could walk across it from boat to boat.

This late in the summer that legendary seabreeze, the Fremantle Doctor doesn't blow with quite the vigour that it does in January and February, making for more gentlemanly sailing. Yes, sailing, that is the other great thing about getting home, it is the chance to go sailing again.

Would you believe that in five and a half months of duty at the America's Cup I went sailing only once. However I must point out that on the only occasion that I sailed, with fellow scribe Bob Fisher, and other members of the print media corps, we won, and made sure that all our rivals - from television, the websites, photographers etc. - knew who had won. Anyway, now I'm back in Western Australia, I'm taking every opportunity to make up for almost a complete summer season of sailing missed. I can sail at least four times a week here, in races that vary from a totally informal cruise to a full on Saturday afternoon club blast.

The Royal Perth Yacht Club hosts what is irreverantly known as the W.A.N.K.S. race - Wednesday Afternoon No Keen Sailors - and a very pleasant jaunt around the Swan river it is. Generally contested by a mixture of the retired, the self-employed and the unemployed (or in my case unemployable), competing in an eclectic selection of craft that range from beautiful old wooden metre style boats, through clapped out over-used, undermaintained Solings, to flighty sportsboats.

The enjoyment of this mid-week competition is definitely enhanced by a pre-race lunch in the Royal Perth's fine dining room, where an excellent meal is best washed down with a bottle or two of crisp, cool, dry, white wine, while enjoying panoramic views of the river and the city.

After crossing the finishing line of the W.A.N.K.S. race one sails straight on a couple of miles down the river to the Royal Freshwater Bay Yacht Club, affectionately known as "Freshy", for their twilight race. The use of the word "race" is a little loose in this case. Yes, ten minute, five minute and starting guns are fired, but half the fleet are usually over the line early, but a second gun is never heard.

The boats are stacked with twice as many people as they would be for competitive sailing, and a good supply of drink and "nibbles" is essential. The course is exactly the same every week, and if the race officer gets bored he retires to the bar, and makes up the results, awarding bottles of cheap and nasty sparkling wine to those he thinks deserve them - it is debatable as to whether this is a reward or a punishment.

The post race barbecue and bop-til-you-drop swings on until late, then comes the decision whether to have a pleasant moon light sail back up the river to Royal Perth, or leave the boat at "Freshy" until the next day. One has been known to get the navigation lights wrong on the way back up river, and spend some time on a sandbank, and the urgency of getting off depends on the company and quality of wine one has.

If on the other hand the decision is taken to leave the return journey until the next day, that gives an opportunity for a late afternoon sail up the river with the "Doctor" to blow you back to Royal Perth in time for their Thursday evening twilight. This is much in the same spirit as the previous night, though the race officers do stay long enough to give all but the most leisurely a finishing time.

Saturday is the serious stuff, a full on race of about three hours duration. There is a wonderfully re-assuring consistancy about Saturday afternoon club racing, just about anywhere you go in the world. The same people making the same mistakes, week after week, season after season, year after year.

Before my return from Auckland, the previous Saturday afternoon club race I'd done on the Swan River was about a year ago, I swear the same skippers were abusing the same crew members for exactly the same stuff-ups, at the same marks a year ago, it was just an action re-play. I'm convinced that many of the sailors out there not only don't know the rules, in some cases I'm sure they don't know there are any rules!

However, it is fun to remind oneself from time to time that this is where we all started. All the rockstars in Auckland must have begun their sailing careers at a club somewhere in the world, and had the ambition, energy and talent to go on to sail at the very highest level of our sport.