The day looked to be a good one. A gentle breeze of a few knots and a balmy 27 degrees. Perhaps the last day of a late summer as we headed into Melbourne’s renowned winter months.

The Albert Park Lake however was depleted and almost a no-go zone – we might just be able navigate the plentiful weeds to get one more sail in. The lake was bone dry and well and truly requiring rainwater as it was sitting at an all-time low.

I’d arrived relatively early this Saturday to secure a good prep location for my dingy where my mast could be lifted pointing skyward and away from the tree branches.

My boat an RS Zest aptly named “Beyond the sunset” as it’s hard to beat a sunset, was somewhat new for me having been purchased from a fellow clubman 8 months ago.

Although I had sailed for years, I still watched YouTube videos on the Zest dinghy class to maximise my experience.  Each boat has its idiosyncrasies, and this was no different.

Previous Saturdays before this one, I’d often call on one of the regular sailors to check my rigging, searching for their input. At around 1.30 all of the participating sailors gathered for the race briefing. This was a must attend gathering as the race officer went through the course structure and the anticipated forecast.

It was to be a Port course and wind speed a slight breeze of 6-7 knots which would grow during the afternoon. I stayed around the briefing whiteboard watching the commodore pointing out the flag system for which classes would go first. I wondered to myself why is everything so complicated with sailing and the terminology.

It was time to head out onto the water and Patrick a true gentleman helped me wheel the trolley down the ramp where the boat floated onto the water. He held the painter, a tow rope, whilst I climbed aboard.

As I proceeded to lower the centreboard and rudder, I felt a touch nervous, not sure why as the day was pleasant enough and there was plenty of safety gear ranging from helmets to life jackets.

I sailed into the middle of the lake and felt the windspeed immediately lift. The boats around me lifted in speed and were whizzing past.

I went about a few times, changing direction whilst watching out for other craft. At the same time trying to pull in the mainsheet for speed. On one of the turns the boom whacked me across the forehead as the wind picked up even more. Thank goodness I had a helmet on, yet I still felt it.

There’s a real art to going about as you have to juggle the tiller and the mainsheet one in each hand. At the same time, you must shift your entire body from one side of the dinghy to the other and time your move inline with the boom shifting sides.

The boom began thrashing around and I noticed the boom vang, which secures the boom by tying it down had become loose. The dinghy continued to thrash about and as I tried to go about the mainsheet wrapped around my neck underneath my helmet.

I had no control of the vessel and a rope around my neck. Whatever fun I was supposed to be having had dissipated.

I managed to rip the rope away from my neck and to get the dinghy sailing. After what seemed an eternity, I moved her forward only for the centre board to become stuck in the mud of the shallow lake.

Like a rodeo beast the yacht thrashed about and as one final piece of drama Beyond the sunset capsized. I had tried to move across the dinghy as swiftly as possible, yet I could only watch as the boat slipped side first into the warm water. Luckily, I could stand up, albeit onto a bed of bird poo. The rescue boat approached asking if I wanted a tow to the shore.

I gracefully accepted, I felt humiliated yet somewhat relieved, as I was buggered.

I’ll put this sail down to experience!

In this case all the king horses and all the kings men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again.