Racing to Records
The focus changed from racing to records as we move site to the saltpans at the far end of Walvis Bay. With the record attempt limited on numbers the remaining sailors prepare to fly home, but not before we all head off into the desert for a mad dash around the dunes on quad bikes.
Our guides for the quad ride seemed to have aged before they’re time, and even after a depressing introductory talk and quick read of the potential repair costs they kept a tight rain on everyone as we headed into the desert. After a break we split into smaller groups, I opted to join the youngest guide with the flashiest quad, turned out to be the decision of the week as he headed for the hills just on the back wheels. An hour of pure fun with the boys, our guide did us justice, but more impressive was his riding, he may have well been on a two-wheeler as he hardly ever used all four.
Up at the saltpans it looked more like Christmas with the white-crusted banks, and looking at the angle I think well need more than a gifted wind to bust any records. The course sits between 130 to 140 degrees and walking the five hundred meters we discover it has two shallow points sticking four meters from the bank. The kites should have no trouble hugging the edge with there super short fins, but the windsurfers will have to run out further or risk catapulting on the sand banks.
We haven’t had chance to see if the saltpans can really produce as the abnormal weather continued to keep us shore bound for most of the week. Only today did we get a chance to get back on the water, but only for playing with big sails.
Would have had a few pix from today but the camera took an unintentional swim. Pete Davis had a water housing for his pocket camera and asked me to follow him and Zara with it. I followed both of them down the course getting a few shots off, and then blasted across the river on the final trip home. All seamed good until I looked down at the camera, the housing was open and as I turned round I saw a look of horror on Pete's face as he fished in the shallows for his camera. If it ever works again (doubtful) I’m sure the clasp will be covered in gaffer tape.
Read MoreOur guides for the quad ride seemed to have aged before they’re time, and even after a depressing introductory talk and quick read of the potential repair costs they kept a tight rain on everyone as we headed into the desert. After a break we split into smaller groups, I opted to join the youngest guide with the flashiest quad, turned out to be the decision of the week as he headed for the hills just on the back wheels. An hour of pure fun with the boys, our guide did us justice, but more impressive was his riding, he may have well been on a two-wheeler as he hardly ever used all four.
Up at the saltpans it looked more like Christmas with the white-crusted banks, and looking at the angle I think well need more than a gifted wind to bust any records. The course sits between 130 to 140 degrees and walking the five hundred meters we discover it has two shallow points sticking four meters from the bank. The kites should have no trouble hugging the edge with there super short fins, but the windsurfers will have to run out further or risk catapulting on the sand banks.
We haven’t had chance to see if the saltpans can really produce as the abnormal weather continued to keep us shore bound for most of the week. Only today did we get a chance to get back on the water, but only for playing with big sails.
Would have had a few pix from today but the camera took an unintentional swim. Pete Davis had a water housing for his pocket camera and asked me to follow him and Zara with it. I followed both of them down the course getting a few shots off, and then blasted across the river on the final trip home. All seamed good until I looked down at the camera, the housing was open and as I turned round I saw a look of horror on Pete's face as he fished in the shallows for his camera. If it ever works again (doubtful) I’m sure the clasp will be covered in gaffer tape.
