Avrion is by modern standards a slug.
The antique, 39ton, varnished and chromed ketch built in the 60's just glows golden in the sunlight.

This is our ride for the Antigua Classic Regatta, in amongst other amazing boats such asthe giant J-class sloops Valsheda and Ranger, as well the wooden ketch’s Mariella and Wild Horses, and many more that have all manner of masts and sail combinations that you can shake a stick at.

Classic racing is not what I am used to, large heavy boats that don’t point and need 20knts to even think about moving quickly. However they are quite amazing to sail on, reaching on with lots of sails up, stark white sails contrasting with the blue sky and dark sea, and even more impressive to watch the procession of similar beauties along the race course. Nature was also wanting to step up with its finest, and treated us to a display of broaching humpback whales during race one. One after another these huge mammals the size of our yacht exploded out of the water almost with arms extended as they rolled onto their back and crash into the sea with a tremendous sound and eruption of white foam and spray. For about 5 minutes they laughed and played only a few hundred meters from us, and then disappeared as abruptly back into the ocean, sending spouts of water from their blowholes and waving goodbye with their massive tail flukes as they slipped away. For the duration we forgot we were in the middle of a yacht race, and just marveled at the ocean, and how luckily we were to be on the water.
And that really sums up Antigua classic week, just enjoying being on the water.

Antigua sailing week on the other hand brings on a completely different vibe, as an influx of high performance racing machines and their crews descend on the Falmouth harbor, pubs cafes and clubs stretching at the seams ass everyone lets loose. From classic week where we all know everyone, to a sea of strange faces was almost disappointing, but the promise of great racing dispelled any doubts.
Day one gave us a great start from Falmouth east to Shirley Heights, then a downwind slide to the other side of the island and the Virgin Atlantic Beach Bash at Dickenson beach.

Sir Richard Branson himself was part of the bathtub derby, and before long we were drinking rum punch and talking up the days racing. Day two ended with two abandoned races and much disappointment, although not as much as the following day. After a fantastic start in the south coast race in 12-15knts, we were leading comfortably, having just asserted ourselves on the fleet up to the first windward mark when a part of our rigging failed.
The D2 is a diagonal shroud on the mast, and while it is only one of the many rigging components, it only takes one to break to bring the house of cards, or in our case our mast, tumbling into the water.

That was the end of sailing week for me, after spending a sketchy 5 minutes in the water securing the mast and cutting a couple of halyards, we were towed back to the dock. Deciding against sailing on a different yacht, I met up with Adam, a cameraman friend that I met on the other side of the world last year during the Raja Muda yacht race. Adam was filming the even for TV and I managed to make myself useful enough to see out the last days of the regatta circling the masts in a helicopter, chasing the large racing boats and mega yachts across the racecourse in the mornings, and transferring to a camera boat for the last stages of the racing in the afternoon.

And lets not forget the rum! Rum is almost cheeper than water down here, and the rum punch, along with the reggae party on the hilltop at Shirley Heights, the sun going down, chillin with a few hundred of your drunkest friends....its all good, and luckly downhill to get home!

Having been on the crew, viewed the bird’s eye, motored meters away, and partied in the small hours, sailing week for me has been a great success, and uniquely Antigua.