A once a week ritual…
Leonard: Welcome aboard Wagtail, mind your footing.
Daniel: Bigger than I expected.
Leonard: Not quite the Sydney to Hobart, mate. Just the Thursday-night club — six of us amateur sailors who reckon we’re elite for about an hour.
Daniel: Six boats? All setting off at the same time?
Leonard: Yep. Seahorse, Pelican, Wind Lass... we’ve been racing each other for nearly thirty years.
Daniel: What happens if you win?
Leonard: Remind the others all week who the real captain is. Then buy the first round at the pub as penance. Oi, Pete — untie, would you? Righto, fellas, push off! Meet the dream team: Pete’s a dentist; Rob’s an accountant who pretends to be navigator; and over there’s Mick — retired engineer, self-declared “beverage control officer.”
Mick: Too right, mate. First rule aboard Wagtail: skipper sails; I handle the beer.
Leonard: That’s why he keeps getting invited back. Righto, raise the sails. Wind’s sou’east, nice and steady. Daniel, you can give the halyard a good pull — that’s it, up she goes!
Daniel: She catches fast! Wow, that push... feels alive.
Leonard: Mind your head! Boom’’s about to swing — tacking starboard!
Daniel: Whoa — close one! I nearly got the full baptism.
Leonard: Ha! Happens once to everyone, mate. After that, you duck automatically. All right, beers up, eyes on Pelican — first of the estuary markers coming up. Let’s show these blokes the lawyers still mean business on the water!
___________
Voice-over
As Leonard puts it: Thirty years and it never gets old. You watch the sun drop behind the mangroves, the tide runs out — same rhythm, same laughs. Keeps you sane after a week of contracts and clients.
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