Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
The fleet of ILCA 7 sailboats bobbed gently at their moorings, their white sails neatly furled, waiting for the day’s action. A cool breeze brushed against his face as he surveyed the scene. Today was the final day of the regatta, and the grand prize was within reach. He’d done everything he could to position himself to win.
Sail turned and walked through the park and to the marina where the check-in tent was. He was early but couldn’t stay in bed any longer. Later, his family will be in the park, ready to cheer him on.
The past few days have been a whirlwind of activity. Each morning starts with a briefing, followed by a boat check, and the fun begins. The first day of competition, Sail finished in first place in his five races. Same results on the second day, but the weather on the third day proved to be a bit of a challenge and in two of his five races, he finished second. Still, his placement and qualifying times were enough to put him in the gold fleet for the final competition.
Sail was neck and neck with the current national champion, Lex Danke. They’d gone head-to-head in two races, each earning a victory. Due to the scores, Lex and Sail would race twice this morning. Unless they both won a race. If they were still tied after two, a third would determine the winner. Sail had zero intention of racing a third time.
“Are you ready to race the wind?”
Sail paused when he heard the voice call out. He walked toward the man, with no familiarity of who he was. “I’m Sail Carter,” he said as he held his hand out.
“Nathan Pierce,” he said, giving Sail a firm handshake. “Retired ILCA 7 racer, former national champion, and now announcer. I’ve had a lot of fun announcing your races these past few days.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it. When did you race?”
“Oh.” the older man adjusted his hat. “Late seventies, early eighties. I won the national champion in my last year, and then broke my back the next. Ended my career right there.”
“Ouch. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I remember reading about you when you were in high school. I thought for sure we’d see you on the circuit.”
Sail lifted his lip briefly. “I’m not sure why I didn’t stick with it.”
“How long did you train for this regatta?”
This time Sail laughed. “A week.”
“A week?” The answer shocked Nathan. “Your natural talent is hard to come by. Good luck today.”
Most of the sailors spent months preparing for an event like this with endless drills, studying wind patterns and mastering the art of boat handling. Crew came in clutch with his wind charting and how the dinghy would handle. Last weekend when they raced, Sail didn’t stand a chance. He was thankful he didn’t have to race his brother today. Knowledge of the area definitely played a factor in Sail’s success during the regatta.
“Thank you. It was nice meeting you.”
Nathan gave him a wave and headed behind a tent. Sail kept walking. His feet hit the metal ramp and then the wood planks as he made his way to his dinghy. He sat on the dock, closed his eyes, and pictured the course, mimicking every move, tug and lean he would have to when it was time to race.
Mostly, he sat there and raced the wind until it was time to perform.
Sail’s fingers tightened around the mast of his ILCA 7. He could feel the pulse of anticipation running through the other sailors on the beach, a ripple of shared energy. The boats were lined up in neat rows, their sails furled, hulls poised like athletes on starting blocks. This was it—one race left—and he’d be the champion. He’d already beat his main opponent, but they were still tied in points.
The crowd buzzed with excitement and anticipation. In the park, there was a DJ, food trucks, and when Sail walked around earlier to find Galvin, he bought her balloon art in the shape of a sailboat.
Before his first race, he’d spent time with Galvin. He brought her down to where his boat was, pointed a few things out, and then walked her back to where mom was holding court. Everyone they knew was there, rooting for him. There was a large Seaport contingent sitting the park, all wearing Sail Carter T-shirts that his brother Tidal had made and was selling for twenty bucks a pop.
Now, Sail waited.
“Everything set?” Jack asked as he reached Sail.
Sail was beyond grateful for his dad and brothers. Without them, none of this would’ve happened. Hell, without messing up at school, he wouldn’t be where he was right now.
“Yeah,” Sail said, his voice steady and calm. “I’m ready.”
Jack nodded. “Good. Winds are supposed to pick up now that the fog has burned off. First gun is in a few minutes.”