America's Cup

I know nothing about boats, or the racing of boats, or why the America’s Cup is called the America’s Cup, or what it was doing in New Zealand. But I was very grateful to join my work colleagues on a boat to see one of the America’s Cup races live.

It seemed that everyone in Auckland had a boat and the same idea as us. This wasn’t a problem though as there was plenty of nautical room for us to drop anchor near what I assumed was the edge of the unmarked racetrack.

I would like to fill the next few paragraphs with deep and meaningful words describing the events of the boat race we saw, but to be honest I was unsure what was happening. The black slender looking boats glided around the bay, balancing on one leg then transitioning to the other, like some sort of strange robotic dance. The commentary over our ships radio informed me that one boat was in the lead, although it was impossible for me to decipher which boat was winning, or how.

After several rounds it was announced that the race had finished and that one of the boats had won. On this queue the mass of spectator boats turned Auckland bound. It was an incredible feeling being part of what felt like an invading armada. The Auckland skyline was in the distance and we, along with everyone else in the country were charging straight towards it. I was half expecting to begin hearing distant canon fire as the Auckland Skytower starts volleying cannonballs in our direction. Some of our neighbouring boats would get caught in the fire and explode as we carefully weaved our way through the carnage. Our actual return journey was not as eventful but I really enjoyed the experience!

I still know nothing about boats though.