ODE TO THE SEAVIEW SAILING TRUST TROPHY
Published 14:53 on 9 Aug 2025
Poem by Henry Cecil, marking the Sea View One Design Seaview Sailing Trust Trophy race today at 17:00
This evening, Seaviews waters will host one of the most spirited and hotly contested races of the season the Sea View One Design Seaview Sailing Trust Trophy. At 17:00, the fleet will set off, sails bright in the evening light, chasing not just the silverware, but a years worth of bragging rights.
To honour the occasion, Henry Cecil has penned a special poem capturing the colour, rivalry, and camaraderie of this unique event. With its playful nod to racing etiquette and a wink to the personalities on the water, its a timely reminder that while competition may be fierce, the heart of Seaview sailing is about skill, humour, and shared passion for the sea.
ODE TO THE SEAVIEW SAILING TRUST TROPHY
(Obey the Rules!)
Tonight the bays all silver light,
As Seaviews fleet prepares for fight,
The Trust Trophy shines, the stakes are clear—
The bragging rights will last all year.
"Starboard rules!" will ring once more,
With echoes bouncing off the shore.
While port-tack dreamers take their chance,
And pray their luck survives the dance.
First dash out past Bertie bright,
A friendly face in fading light,
The tide will tease, the gusts will play,
And some will curse the ebbing sway.
Room at marks? A tricky art—
Too close, and friendships fall apart.
"Three boat lengths!" the shout will roar,
Though some swear it was clearly four.
Raymond Simonds will guard his lane,
With tactics cool and sheets held plain,
While Robert Holbrook calls the trim,
And trusts the tide will favour him.
Colin too will plot his way,
And swear its fastest—most the day.
Yet now and then, as tales will tell,
They choose a course they know too well—
Except its not the one were on,
And by the time theyve guessed, were gone.
Then upwind hard towards Boom you fly,
The reach ahead comes drawing nigh,
But woe betide that port-tack lark,
Who blocks a starboards windward mark—
Two turns await for all to see,
No shortcut to the victory.
William Edwards, bold and fast,
Will chase you down until youre past,
While Colin Simonds, keen and sly,
Will steal your wind and slip on by.
Old O looms in the turning tide,
Where headers knock you side to side.
And high or low, the truth is near:
The windward boat must keep well clear.
Bunny beckons, smooth and sly,
Slip round neat and keep sheets dry.
Overtaking? Heres the trick:
Too close, and tempers boil quick;
Too far, and youll be left to freeze,
With rivals stealing all your breeze.
Last charge down to Little Deb,
Where cunning helms their traps will web,
No pumping, rocking, or sneaky scull—
(Though some find twilight nights more dull).
The protest flags may fly tonight,
And bar talk will go on all night.
And somewhere back from their scenic tour,
Come Robert, Ray, and Colin sure—
Theyve found their way, with grins full wide,
Just in time for the final tide.
Yet through the rules and shouted calls,
Through shifting wind and sudden squalls,
Well race, well laugh, and all agree—
Seaviews the best place on the sea.
And keeping us sharp, from start to gun,
Is Captain Charles, whose word is one:
He calls to all with firmest tools—
"For the Trust Trophy, obey the rules!"
So heres to fair winds, bows held true,
And cunning moves pulled just by you—
For in our fleet, the sweetest prize,
Is sailing home with salt in eyes.
And raise a cheer, both loud and neat,
For the Victory fleet boats winning feat,
And the cadet who steered with steady hand,
To claim the crown on Seaviews strand.