So there we were, on a starboard tack, ripping along at a steady 7.5 knots when one of the crew mentioned lunch. Again. A racing crew sails on its stomach and require constant feeding. The crew of Shock Therapy are no exception, all 10 of us. It’s quite amazing the amount of calories consumed on a 24 hour race such as the one we were on. Fortunately myself – crew position Snacktician – and my sidekick the Assistant Snacktician were on the job.
Now, my sidekick is a fine chef and whips up all sorts of tasty tidbits. On land. The challenges of cooking when heeled at 30 degrees and in an area smaller than an airplane washroom take some getting used to. On this day, the Assistant Snacktician says, “hey let’s have wraps. I’ve got everything prepared.” Fabulous, I’m thinking by everything prepared that she made the wraps at home and we’ll just hand them out. Not quite.
We wedge ouselves as best we can into the galley. Shock Therapy is a Shock 35 racing boat. Racing boats aren’t designed with cruising comforts like big U-shaped galleys and handy tie straps. We have a small chopping block, a deep sink and a large cooler (for wine, a crew necessity). Being a rather boisterous day we also have three sails all over the cabin sole. So we’re up to our knees in wet sails, bouncing along in 20 knots and Assistant Snacktician empties the cooler of a dozen baggies. There’s marinated chicken, beef, whole avocadoes, sour cream, salsa, grilled peppers, lettuce and tomatoes. All we have to do is assemble these, and wrap them in a pita shell. Piece of cake!
She opens all the bags, places a pita on the chopping block, assembles a bit of each and rolls it up. It’s a thing of beauty. One down, nine to go. Another pita hits the chopping block. Chicken, avocado, peppers, and salsa are placed carefully. She grabs the sour cream. “Ready about” is all we heard. 20 knots, choppy seas and suddenly the boat tacked. I was wedged firmly against the companionway steps. Assistant Snacktician was not. She grabbed the nearest item, the chopping block and lost her balance. The block went flying across the cabin. So did the marinated chicken, avocado and peppers. Being white, the sour cream blended in nicely with the wet sails. The salsa provided an interesting contrast, very Rorschach.
Assistant Snacktician lay amongst the wet sails, pita in hand, gaily festooned with strips of beef and lettuce. A flock of faces peered down the companionway, surveyed the scene and then disappeared. They gently shut the hatch.
You know, months later we still haven’t accounted for an avocado.
- Try not to have more than one container open at a time.
- Place containers in the sink in rough conditions.