My husband likes adventures, and I mean the serious types of adventures.  And, unfortunately he tries to drag me along on his hairbrained plans.  Normally his schemes involve sailing, mountain climbing, snow, big seas and lots and lots of physical exercise (read pain) – all this from someone who can barely use a cell phone.

I have sailed in regattas, climbed mountains, toured around the country, paddled down rivers and landed on St Helena Island.  I have got out of climbing Kilamanjaro and sailing round Cape Horn by the skin of my teeth – he went – I gratefully didnt.

Now he has a new plan – and this seriously involves me.

After the completion of adventure plan number 3 gazillion and 5 – building a yacht, sailing and winning the Governors Cup – it was time for the Boat Banjo (always to be known as BBB) to be sold to make way for a new dream.

I get the phone call when I least expect it

“Honey I have bought you a boat” – you know in that tone of voice that just oozes “honey arent I just the best honey in the world”

“Ummmmmmmmmmm – Thank you” – yes I do have manners and no I do not know what I am going to do with a boat.

“Her name is POPPET and she is a racing machine”

“Ummmmmmmm – I dont race boats”

“Dont worry the boat builder built this boat for his wife and it is perfect for husband and wife racing teams”

“Ummmmm will it be OK if you race and I team?”

“We are going to have SO MUCH FUN going to regattas with a great boat”

Right – things are looking up – weekends away – YIPEE – now this isn’t so bad ………….. and then he says the dreaded words……..

“Its quite cold still so you must go and get yourself a wetsuit”

ZZZZZKKKK TEDONK!!!!! – the landing bit of reality check is seriously the most painful.

You dont understand, the last time I did a wetsuit I was 20 and a tad bit hotter than I am now.  I am 3 children, 26 years and about 20 inches bigger than I was 26 years ago.  Wetsuits are simply not made for people like me they are made for the cast of Blue Crush 1 and 2 – and thats it.

There is only one thing that I fear more than appearing in public in a wetsuit – sailing on a cold choppy wet dam without a wetsuit.

So off to the shed I go to find something that fits ………

Firstly my old 26 year old faithful only goes up to my knees and not an inch higher.  Right set my sights on something bigger.

One would think that a full wetsuit would sorta pull in the wobbly bits and enhance the more attractive bits – NOT – its almost like they are designed to make the wobbly bits all bumpy and mould the good bits to look like bumpy wobbly bits.  The stratigically placed Billabong curve just rounds everything off to make you look like a big black Tellytubby.

On top of this bad state of affairs is that you cannot move, breathe – actually you cant do much more than stand there looking quite awkward. My face is blue, my arms cant move – I have no idea how I am going to sail in this thing. I can see why Shawn Thompson wore boards shorts and looked great in them.

In fact the only thing that looks good in this whole sorry mess is my pristinely painted red toenails poking out the bottom of the suit.

Anyway – what we have is a man with a scheme, a sailing dingy called Poppet, a regatta schedule and me a useless crew member in a wetsuit.

Are we going to go and have the bestest of best times?



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