Sail away (to Hobart rather quickly)

The other day the city of Adelaide was swallowed by a giant sinkhole. We declared war on New Zealand, and Kylie Minogue was appointed as the first president of the newly declared Republic of Australia.

You'll hear about all this on social media only, as all the nation's mainstream journalists are on holiday. Between Christmas and New Year, as ever, just about the only thing reported in the news is the Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race. Any cadet sports journalist can do it, so all the others go off to their favourite beach getaways.
Sometimes there's a bushfire or a flood (or this time a ministerial bar-room indiscretion) that somehow justifies dragging them back on duty, but they need to be big stories.

Anyway, I went along to Middle Head on Boxing Day, to watch the start of the above mentioned yacht race. And it was indeed quite a spectacle. There's a massive fleet of spectator craft on top of the 100 plus competitors. There are people clambering all over the WW2 fortifications for the best views.

There's usually a puff of smoke and the sound of the starting cannon, but this time the starter boat sank. Lots of competitors nearly sank too, with collisions and breakages galore, both during the crowded start and later, when the southerly buster hit them.

For the average spectator at the start, it's largely about the four supermaxi yachts, the huge ones with the big black sails, that tack furiously back and forth in front of each other, and then zoom past you first. I thought it would be quite a wait between the start and seeing them come by and out of the Heads. But no, it seemed like only a minute or less. Then they were charging round to the south, out of sight and Hobart bound. The line honours winner, the American yacht Comanche, is the one with the red blob at the top of its sail.