“ Protest laser 192036 !”, “ Head up , keep it up ! Don ’ t go in there !” Screams of protests and fouls filled the quiet space over the bay . Two hundred , fourteen foot , fiber glass hauls fought for the best point on a line no more than a quarter mile long . Gulls circled overhead calling out to each other like fans cheering us on . But all of the excessive noise began to fade out as the sails luffed in the eighteen-knot breeze . Each sail had its own unique movement , like a thousand white hands waving if you were watching from the committee boat . Lasers began to claim their positions as vigilant eyes scanned the line for openings or slivers of space to make a move . Three long blasts of the committee boat ’ s horn signaled three minutes to the start . My sense of sound was completely drowned out as my sight and touch began to heighten . My actions became crisper and tactics clearer . Ocean spray would coat my body as waves crawled over the haul of my white laser from all directions , leaving me to occasionally licking my salt-crusted lips as I finalized my plan of attack . Chaos from all of the boats competing for the ideal spot kicked up an uncontrollable chop . Holding my position on the line became of feat in and of itself . Every so often , I would eye my competition but only saw mouths moving and sails spastically luffing . Still no sound followed their movements , but all of that changed in a matter of seconds . Another blast from the horn signaled one minute , and the gears

inside my head were rewound . My body tensed up as my frantic looking competition found their voices and my sail howled from the passing wind .

Time continued to count down , roughly thirty seconds to the start . My heart began to throb uncontrollably to the anxiety that grew within me . My muscles flexed and relaxed repeatedly as I did my best to hold my position on the line . The start determines a good majority of any race , and knowing this , I wasn ’ t about to blow it . We reached the last ten seconds and sailors ’ watches began chirping like crickets . Watching the countdown as if my life depended on it , my heart picked up in rate . The sound of it pounding against my rib cage began to ring in my ears . The pounding grew louder and louder until one second to go . And then as if I had hit a wall , everything stopped . The fast paced world around me seemed to slow down to what felt like an eternity and then left in the matter of a second . But within that eternity , I remembered that even if I may fail , I will see myself through to the finish line .

Beeep ! The horn on the committee boat blew . I sheeted in my main sail with a grunt , feeling like I was hauling a boulder with an inch-thick rope . My butt slid to the edge of my laser with a single thrust of my legs and the tops of my feet hooked around my hiking straps to balance out . The leading lasers , distinguished by their black , six-digit number across

their main sail , took off like a pack of horses charging over a blue plain if you watched from the shoreline . Our boats jumped at the acceleration from the wind , and only our transoms and thighs bulging from the strenuous hiking could be seen from a distance . Cries of starboard could be heard about the fleet as a boat would try to port tack the rest . Only to the dismay of those on port tack , the reality was they ’ d have to tack to starboard at some point to avoid a seven-twenty foul . About half way through the first upwind leg of the race , I looked back to compare my standings to other boats . I fell about mid fleet during the current standings I had thought to myself , my first laser regatta ever , and to have already been beating half the fleet . Sailors from around the world , Junior Olympics , and beyond were sailing thirty yards in front of me . The way they commanded their boat was as if they were riding their steed , full of pride , yet modest knowing they ’ d be pushed to their limit . So there I was , the pushing force , giving them a reason to become better , and a reason they ’ d help me to become better .

As I rounded the windward mark to head downwind , I sailed into a puff that picked up to twenty five knots and knocked my laser over before I had any real time to react . My body immediately tensed as I hit the cold water and I let out a yelp at the shock that ran down my spine . I emerged from the salty abyss beneath my capsized boat and without any

thought I swam to the haul of my laser . I latched on to the centerboard and quickly pulled myself up , courtesy of the adrenaline that was pumping through

An Ominous Front Michael Benvenuto ‘ 16