Set in the stunning hills of the Basque country, Orio regatta course isn't there when you arrive but appears with incoming tide. In some ways it’s a rowers dream. The racing is over 1000m and is complete in an hour and a quarter (you finish one race and paddle back to the start for the next).
The crane had put our aging Fillipi into the water and we’d sorted the youngsters in the boat who were worrying about the finer detail of pitch rather than human adjustment. A few tweaks of the scaffold pole and a good dousing in formaldehyde for the old boys in the crew, and we were ready for the first heat. We lumbered away from the blocks and the sheer magnetism of the Molesey crew soon became obvious, as the opposing crews around us came out of their lanes towards us. We muscled our way out to a ¾ length lead to safely negotiate the first heat.
With 2 to qualify from the semi we found ourselves almost a length down at 400m and the shout went up and we began closing down the leading 2 crews. As we surged over the line the 4700 spectators rose and shouted “Moleeessseeeey” to acclaim us taking 2nd spot on the line….but one man saw it differently. Clearly awoken from his siesta by the noisy crowd the finish judge clasped his white stick, jumped up and announced Orio the home club had taken 2nd place. Reminded that he might like to look at the finish video he duly did this and reconfirmed the result. The Orio boat who’d collapsed, heads shaking after the finish, looked at each other in disbelief.
Purely for the sake of accurate reporting ( MBC second crew from the bottom) the finish picture is reproduced to the right….compare the hastily drawn black biro line to the just visible line of white finish buoys. Needless to say the good natured debate raged on . Crossy srambled down through thick mud onto the finish line mud, took one look across the course and using his years of experience said we’d won. Joe consulted Google earth and got the same result. Jonny and Paul laid out the legal precedents and began the court process with the Hague. Monkey took photographic evidence to new heights with every conceivable angle of the finish.
The party started in the local cider factory where a row of 12 foot high cider barrels were periodically just opened up to let the contents flow over the waiting crowds. Dietary requirements were whether you wanted one cow or two. After 4 enormous courses of egg, fish, meat and cheese (plus a roll of course which meant you get a loaf), we began touring the local bars and narrowly avoided selling Ben Pugh into the vice trade ( it got close when the price reached 200 euros).
After a short nap we charged to the beach for an early morning dip. What looked like little waves from the hotel balcony turned out to be quite large as we watched the surf boarders ride them in. As no one was man enough to say this was a bad idea we charged in. 2 waves later with underpants ripped off by the incoming waves and strewn along the beach we glanced down and convinced each other how cold it really was.
Our hosts were fantastic and we want to say thanks to all our great friends at Orio and particularly to Igon, Patrick and Miren for ensuring we were so well looked after.
Crew
Bow Ben Pugh
2 Martin Cross
3 Jonny Searle
4 David Livingston
5. Ian McNuff
6 Paul Dienstbach
7 Simon Fieldhouse
Str Joe Van Mahltzahn
Cox Anders…local Spanish youngster
