Bandido!

Bandido, coming up -

Up -

Up!

Get out the way, Bandido!

Bandido - no cabes!

Crunch.

That is the way on the starting line of a Regatta in Mexico.

That and the absolute mayhem on board our boat that ensued.

And I'm not joking about the bandit who caused a collision - it was Bandido, the right bastard, and it was he who left everyone else frantically trying to disentangle themselves, while he picked up speed and comfortably settled himself into first position of the fleet.

In addition to Bandido, there are other fabulous names: French Kiss, Iemanja (the pagan goddess of the ocean), Sidewinder, Quintessence, China Cloud, Dimensions, Sirius...

And they all get together to play in the water every once in a while - trying to get from A to B faster than anyone else. It involves all sorts of things but strategy is key, I´ve learnt.

What. Fun.

Characters on the boat included:

3 Carloses - one father, one 15-year-old (with 10 years' sailing experience, telling everyone else what to do) and one middle-aged first timer.

Robbie - the chubby and jovial winchgrinder.

Memo - the boat's excellent caretaker and sailor.

Faraón - literally Pharaoh in English - who runs the boat and is hairier, I'm told, than La Vaca's Schnauzer. The one with the deep, rasping voice.

Then there was La Vaca (the cow), nicknamed after Clarabelle many Moons ago - cows, Moons, what the Hell - who dressed in bright orange shorts, equally bright red sunglasses and little else, except perhaps, a red bandana. Most of the time, he seemed to be enjoying the ride, but he's probably the most experienced sailor on the boat. More interesting than that, though, were his hilarious comments. For example, he calls his wife mi brujer, a condensation of bruja (witch) and mujer (wife).

And last but not least, was control-freak maniac owner, Jorge. Now - let me just tell you that Jorge is at least 65, and he springs about his boat like a monkey, hanging from the stanchions, looking up, then down, noticing every minute detail, fine-tuning jib sheets, jib cars, adjusting the runners, edging out the out-haul, pulling down on the cunningham, OMG, what agility. But, says Pat, he isn't the best of helmsmen.

Come back soon and see the photos.