Tru Brick sails

It was hot dry Saturday. A warm northeaster filtered down the river supplying the occupants of the beach little or no relief from the scorching sun. Along the foreshore fishermen cast lines out into the crystal blue ocean, which sparked blindingly in the noon sun. Upon the blurred horizon something was brewing, and come 1:00 we would know if our hard work would pay off.

I stood on the beach my feet submerged deeply into the sand to escape the scolding surface layer. My mind couldn't help but wonder how the day would unfold. Whatever the outcome I knew it was going to be interesting. I glanced at the Hobie to check it one last time, hmmm mast check; boom connected check; sails up check; center boards check; bulkhead covers check; bungs check; rudder pins tied in with string check! The sea breeze swept in from the outer rim of the bay in long thin streaks, creating a zebra crossing across the bay; between light and heavy patches of air. The patches shriveled up to nothing as quickly as they appeared. Both my crew (Tim Fleming) and I knew we were going to be in for a ride.

The waves clipped up against the side of the boat as we wheeled her back home to the water. I checked the hull for bubbles as she sat there jockeying up into a stiff sea breeze.


"Well she's floating", I pronounced to my crew. "Tru brick lives again" he replied. Without notice we set sail, it felt good again to be back on the water. The waves were slamming against the hulls and our feet as we cut our way into a stiffing breeze.

"Hadn't we better get back to the start line?"
"Yea you're right, must be less than 10 minutes to go."
I'd been day dreaming for a while, remembering the good old times this boat had had, the Bruny island trips, the white rock runs; must have let time slip, we had to get back to the start line fast. I pulled on the tiller, the boat's nose dug down a little deeper in the water and she began to pull off the wind. The noise popped up gain the power had come out of the sails and we where running for the line. I looked back, as the rudder was feeling a little heavy.


"Shit Tim, we've got a problem". The rudder blade now was at 45 degrees to the hull and climbing. This made maneuvering almost impossible, the situation was deteriorating rapidly as we were approaching the main fleet. Thoughts ran through my mind of yet another Hobie disaster. I scrambled back just in time to catch our top rudder bolt from drifting off into the unknown. I acquired some mobility on the helm by removing the damaged blade from the water. I then formulated a plan of attack for when we reached the beach. High on the list of repair items required was gaffa tape, along with a few other tools.

After using half a roll of gaffa tape to secure the rudder blades and bolts to the hull, we set sail again, just Ii time to make the start of the first race. With a less than average start, and Adam Hughes making fast to windward of us, I needed a plan. Like every other short course plan I came up with, beating Hughes to the first mark was essential. Thus a quick tack was in order. We lead around the first mark, followed in quick succession by the first triangle. The second upwind leg present us with an interesting buoyancy equation however. Sailing in waves with no bulkhead cover doesn't equal staying afloat. My crew agreed with my supposition, something had to be done, waves were engulfing our spider infested hulls with alarming regularity and precision. Well after deliberating on the equation for some time down wind I deduced, that there was no faster way to get to the beach than win the race. This proved a correct postulation as we crossed the finish line first and landed onto terra firma. "Quickly now we need to fix this bulkhead so me can race in the next race". Stating the blinding obvious.

Again gaffa tape was high on the list of repair items. We acquired some water proof industrial strength gaffa tape. Striking gold with this find we proceed in the repair. Luck however wasn't on our side yet and our tape ran out on it's second span of our gapping hole. Well at least we hand black electrical tape, (the variety which doesn't sick even if you apply 30 meters of the shit).

On the water again just in time for the second race. The start again sounded and we were away slightly behind and to windward of Hughes. Time to enact the short course plan again. We tacked and headed for the foreshore.

"There it is!!"


"What?"


"Bulkhead cover!!!!"


"Damn missed it, let's go around again."


"Don't miss it this time!"


"Got it."


"How lucky was that!!!"


We had thrown away our second race and had to push the boat off the foreshore, but at least we hand our bulkhead cover back. The race continued and Hughes won. With a strengthening breeze and some time to go before the next race (we didn't have to repair anything), we did a white rock run. Over and back before the 5 minute gun went, it wasn't a bad run at all.

The next race was uneventful although closely contested, Tru Brick came out on top yet again. Proving beyond doubt Tru Brick is back.