By a hair- the difference 41 Milliseconds makes
Dragonboat racing for real
Day1 DajaJiao- Taipei City Races
We started out late the morning of the races, and then our cab driver (who had no idea where Dajajiao was actually) dropped us opposite to where we wanted to go. Forcing us to run 10 blocks in flip flops punctuated by frantic phone calls from Danny our team captain exhorting us to "go straight to the bridge". I think bitter thoughts about the driver, who could have used the same instructions.
We arrive panting and breathless, and grab life jackets - just in time to line up and load the boat. The Taipei City race is a big deal. All the teams are in lycra rash guards and board shorts, sporting hairstyles and skin adornments fashioned specifically for the event. The mayor AND the president are scheduled to participate. We've got our styling watersports functional uniforms in red and white. Our team is the Australia New Zealand Chamber of Commerce. We're an international bunch but mostly Taiwanese, English, American, Canadian with a couple of Aussies & Kiwis thrown in. The teams we're up against look burly and synchronized. We paddle out to the start and mill around 4 boats to a heat, jockeying into position. Our drummer calls us to the ready, we sit with paddles raised, crouched to unleash a torrent of power strokes, when the starter tells us to put our paddles down. As we comply, he fires the starter pistol, and while we struggle to get our paddles into the water, the Phillipino team surges ahead winning by 3 very clear boat lengths. To our disappointment, we have a consolation race in the afternoon but can expect nothing more from this loss. Everyone is bummed and miserable- all those mornings on the river- just to lose it on the start... Oh well this was just a prelude to the meat of the weekend. We forfeit the next day's races as planned, and move on to the Taipei County races.
Day 2 Bitan- Taipei County Races
The next day we're at Bitan Taipei County races, an entirely different event. The first thing you notice is that the ladies take their sun protection seriously. Long sleeve shirts, hats and topped with an uv protective umbrella. We have to attend the opening ceremony so we arrive early and gather in the long covered area reserved for paddling teams. Everyone and their uncle speaks, the sound is a cacophony of marching bands blaring on horns and pounding on drums, mounted police shouting crowd control instructions (the horses freak out and jump into a giant dumpster narrowly missing the small kids running around in all the excitement).
Here the teams are lean and tanned. In addition to the neoprene race shorts, they have carbon fiber paddles instead of the wooden ones which come with the boats. They may be contenders, but we have the sexiest drummer on the river. We start with the compact and brown aborigine teams, they smile red beetle nut smiles, talk smack and tease us about our chances. We paddle down river to the start, our biggest problem is getting the handlers on the platform to stop staring at the the pink shirted dental hygenist team. The aborigine teams crush us convincingly while we place 3rd, they're on their way to the money slots. Up next is the other "foreign" team-IMBA students from DaiDa(?), another local team (Christian and short a couple of rowers) and a boat of "high schoolers", we spank them all but it's an unconvincing competition (Are we doing better or are they really that bad?) Meanwhile, in a super tight and closely contested heat, the flag catcher for the blue shirted aborigine team shockingly misses the flag. The rules state this is a forfeit, the blue team weeps inconsolably. They've been training for months...
We take a lazy interlude for lunch, where I wander down and buy zhongzi. These are rice packets wrapped in lotus leaves, that are special to this festival celebration. Michael checks out the rankings, if we place in the next consolation heat, the top teams will make it into the last slots for the main draw based on time. The team prepares for another heat. Today we have a full boat plus extra, I'm out and Angie is back in. She gives me her DSLR, some quick pointers and leaves me to snap the race. I head up to the suspension bridge for a different vantage point, and it looks like our team places well again- we're in the final 8.
We're jazzed but tired. The lineup changes again- I and a couple of the other teammates out resting are back in the boat. The boats square up again- based on times we're racing against the depressed blue team, a burly carbon fiber kitted team and a yellow team. The burly team charges ahead chased closely by the blue team hoping to salvage a spot in the upper 4. The yellow team is leading, and we're paddling with concentration and effort, pulling closer. As we churn towards the finish line flags we grunt and groan. Come on! It's all in slow motion- where the roar of the crowd fades and all you can hear is your blood pounding and the feel of the water heavy like molasses against the paddle. We rock and strain without looking now, the boat rises gliding with each stroke and we take the pace up another beat. A couple of feet to go we pull even and then surge forward our flag catcher leans precariously out grabs our blue flag and heaves upwards. We know we beat the yellow team with the orange flag, they know they've lost. We roar our victory, celebrating, pounding our oars against the gunwhales of the boat.
When the official times are posted, we beat the yellow team by 41 milliseconds to take 7th place out of 37 teams in the mixed open division. Not bad at all.
