You Need to Know about the Philippine Hobie Challenge
My School Report on the 2017 Philippines event
from Phil King with Love! ❤Enjoy!

Kerli, Ali, Tards, Worstie, Rowdy and Fiji Fish are among the many serial offenders who go to the Philippine Challenge nearly every year. Several have been there up to 11 times – even many of the race organisers have been involved many times; some since the beginning – that’s 17 times!

I’d heard about this event and knew they must be onto something special; Jasmine, Barney and Natalie had done it and they had raved about it. Recently a few of us from Nedlands Yacht Club went up. Now we too know why everyone loves the event so much.

The waters, islands, coral and colourful fish are spectacularly beautiful. The organisation is seriously professional and their hospitality is so good it flatters us into thinking we are finally getting the attention we always felt we deserved. First class live entertainment, beautiful exotic locations and a great spirit guaranteed success.

I had assumed the event was just run by volunteers as we do at home; in fact it is run by PHINSAF, a professional organisation that runs several sailing events for different classes throughout the year. That explains the quality of the planning. There are volunteers, but the event director, beach marshal and a team of local guys are professional event organisers. They have considerable sponsorship behind them and importantly are sponsored by the Philippine Dept. of Tourism. PHINSAF won the award as the best tourism sports organizer/association in the entire Philippines for the 2015 Challenge. – Amazing, but you can see why.

The sponsorship and the good value of the Aussie dollar meant that the trip was not expensive for us and we even got to hob nob above our station in breathtakingly beautiful luxury 5 star resort hotels for the first and last few days.

The main event – the island-hopping, is a completely different sport from around-the-marks sailing. Different people rise to the top. The good round- the-marks sailor may struggle in this form of the sport because speed alone wont be enough to guarantee success. There’s no point in being fast if you can’t find the marks (way-points) – or if you go many km in the wrong direction. If you go the wrong way you could finish in the dark – as late as 12 midnight. Or you might arrive in the general vicinity of a mark well ahead of the pack but then spend 20 minutes looking for the mark, only to find that by locating it you have lead the slower boats straight to it.

The organisers make it plain that this is an EXTREME sport and that only experienced sailors should attempt it with good reason. You can be exposed to extremes of weather. They had a safety officer who warned us of the risks and arranged a demonstration of CPR resuscitation etc. (Sarah Turnbull –another multiple entrant, added an impassioned safety speech of her own – but it came out really funny and probably backfired because she was so tipsy).

Even knowing how greatly loved the event is I wouldn’t have gone without Rod and Lucy’s encouragement. You can always think of reasons

why you can’t go… but they would have none of it and I can thank them for getting me there. Mark, Michael, Alex, Greg and Ben made up the rest ofourNYCteam.Itwasgoodtogoasagroup. Wemetafewtimesat each others homes before leaving. We tried to help each other understand confusing and complicated things like VHF radios, sat navs, waypoints, navigation maps, safety equipment etc. – and washed it all down with wine and beer.

Everyone now knows that our 2017 event went completely off the rails; the sailing part of our event was over after the first leg. But the party didn’t stop and the event was a great success anyhow.

There was only one leg. But it was a hell of a leg.

We ran downwind all the way in over 25 knots of wind. The waves were really wild; all shapes, changing fast. Our sat navs told us we were doing 22/23 knots. That’s as fast as a Hobie 16 can go! It was heart in the mouth stuff all the way. Our jibs bowed forward and our side rails bent upwards. At that speed it takes tremendous concentration just to prevent capsize; all we could do was sit on the rear crossbeam and fight with the rudders and main to keep the leeward hull out. We had to throw the boats around, winding them through the ever changing waves as we charged along. Capsizes were inevitable and when they came they were spectacular.

After several hours we saw Rod and Lucy go from chocolates to boiled lollies in an instant. We were well out to sea but they came up alright. Mark and Michael delayed their first capsize till later but when they went it was a beauty. Most people capsized 4 or five times with the record being 11. Several came completely unstuck and one was lost on a reef.

You can get legs like that at home on extreme days – but after 500m or so you round a mark and get a break, or can choose to retire; Not here. We charged along at over 20 knots, always on a knife’s edge – for 6 hours. 6 hours…

After the first hour I really just wanted it all to finish, but unhelpfully Ben

kept looking at the sat nav and saying things like, “OK next we have to get to that headland. It’s 45 minutes away.”

45 minutes! Of this!

But when we screamed past it in a blur he’d say, “Now we’re headed somewhere near that island. It’s 30 minutes away.”

30 more minutes! Hell!
“Oh and 4 hours more after that.” What! 4 hours more! It can’t be!

I was thrusting the rudders like a madman, trying to find a line through the waves that wouldn’t send us hurtling out of control and catapulting us into oblivion. On occasions Ben tried to offer me a snack-bar or some water. He had to be joking. I couldn’t take my eyes off the waves ahead for a second. Somehow, unlike most, we hadn’t capsized. The waves were appalling but at times got worse than that; in patches they became completely random so you couldn’t pick a line as the boat charged on and on relentlessly – always at more than 20 knots!

Toward the end of our 6 hour endurance test we faced a key challenge. We had to pass through shallow tide-driven waves between two islands. A test fit for Ulysses. The waves were short, yet deep and they bounced up in big random spikes. There was no logic to picking a line through them. They were too much for Fiji Fish. We watched in awe. He wiped out spectacularly; Got it up, careened on some more then wiped out again. We let everything off, held our breaths and charged through. We came out the other side, somehow still upright. And then there was the gybe we knew we’d eventually have to do. We’d seen others go in. We put a lot of thought into it – executed – and to our surprise it snapped across like a lamb –surprise.

After that we rounded the final island and headed into the safety of its lee.

Smooth water and reasonable wind was taking us pleasantly toward the finish line. …But then as if the weather god suddenly noticed that he hadn’t taken us out yet he fixed that oversight with a bullet so sudden it slammed us over as if flicking a crumb off a table. We didn’t have time to let out a sail or respond in any way. Bang! You’re gone!! …in what was otherwise the quietest part of the course.

We were soon up and glad to glide to a stop in the calm protected leeward beach at the finish line; a spectacular tropical island bay.

We were alright. The boat was fine. …But our minds… no-one can say what had happened to our minds…

In time other boats arrived. Rod and Lucy. They looked alright. Mark and Michael; quite shaken; wide-eyed and babbling unintelligibly… some indignant nonsense about how a wave had spiked underneath them – and lifted their boat up and over, from behind!

Greg Hill gave us a good laugh. When he reached the beach he staggered a few metres from the water, dropped to his knees dramatically and kissed the sand. We’d all been putting on a good front – but Greg’s actions expressed exactly what we all felt. …It was bloody good to get out of that storm.

Greg had only decided to join the trip at the last moment. Trent had given him one lesson before he left, but apart from that he had never sailed a Hobie 16 before, so we worried about him in those unreasonable conditions. It was no time to be learning how to sail a new class of boat – and the 16, like all great ladies, has a few secrets. To his very great credit Greg survived that baptism of fire very well. He and Alex got knocked over several times but stuck to their guns and brought the boat home manfully (or girl-fully, in Alex’s case). Of course Greg is a very experienced sailor. And he learned to sail in stormy Esperance, but it was a major achievement for him that day just the same. Banjo Patterson would probably have written a poem called “The Man from Stormy Esperance” if he’d seen Greg that day. “It was grand to see that stormy sailor’s ride.”

I’ll keep the rest brief. The wind raged for three days in total. It became even windier than on our first leg. Sailing would have been reckless. Like Everest leaders the organisers decided to change plans. They decided wisely to break the boats up and transport them to quieter waters 60 Km south.

They have a support team of about 7 boats. Several were luxury 40 foot catamarans. We were herded onto the catamarans and headed south. The instruments on the cats showed 35 knots of wind and sometimes 45 knots – that’s gale force! The waves were big, but the cats are so big they just ploughed on unconcerned.

Our skipper was Gary –until recently CEO of one of the Philippine’s largest airline. In fact most of the key personnel were corporate CEO’s or ex CEO’s and some were from the most successful families in the Philippines. They were smart people and they were having fun.

At one time Mark was talking to Gary. The wind had blown for days and there seemed no end in sight. In exasperation Mark said to him, “When will this wind ever stop?”

Gary thought for a while, then answered dryly, “June.”

Gary’s cat has two motors. One broke down but Mark, Rod and a couple of other handy guys got it going again. Mark is very clever with things like that; With everything like that actually. And Rod used to be a diesel mechanic.

That leg on the big cat took 18 hours, whew, but we arrived at another tropical paradise. The accommodation was in traditional Philippine huts. But the huts were actually mostly new, had all the modern plumbing, were in beautiful condition –and were aesthetically and romantically gorgeous – right on the beachfront –coconut palms; stunning coral, perfect clear water and sea life right to the water’s edge, a swimming pool to die for; the works. Even the weather had settled and was now perfect.

We had reached the island of Busuanga in Palawan – winner of the award for most beautiful island in the world I heard. The organisers had chosen well.

In the morning we got the news that the support boat that was carrying a lot of our boats parts and gear had been abandoned in the heavy seas. The motor had broken down and, given the dangerous conditions, the crew had to abandon the boat and be picked up by a passing ship.

So that was the end of our sailing.

We all lost different items; but Greg and Alex’s passports were lost and that was a bit more of a worry.

It was clear the organisers could do no more. They explained that all we could do was continue our trip by visiting our hotels each night and filling in our days eating, drinking and sightseeing…

In fact that turned out to be a very good plan B.

We got to know the others on the trip much better than we would have. They were from all over the world; several Danes, some Dutch, some from Taiwan, a couple of English guys, some Americans (who said they hadn’t come for the sailing –just to escape Trump for a while) a lot of Aussies – old friends, and of course a mixture of Philippine people and expatriates. We were entertained by talk of legendary feats, mostly true, from previous events.

I had been impressed by the cool intelligence of the many corporate CEO’s involved. But I became really impressed after the boat and gear were lost. They showed real character and influence by arranging for three planes and one helicopter to search for the missing boatful of gear. I asked Gary about it. He said casually that he had arranged for two of the planes himself. They were from the Defence Force. The pilots were glad to do it he said. “They told me they were bored. They were sitting around with

nothing to do.

Despite that phenomenal effort (and presumably great expense), the boat wasn’t found.

Our last hotel was absolute luxury. Well beyond my means. We were serenaded and handed a cocktail as we arrived at the entrance. I was thinking of signing in as Brad Pitt (but I’m too tall and good looking). It had an infinity pool in front of an open dining area with a view high over a bay filled with luxury yachts; a beautiful expanse of water and tropical islands beyond. It even had an island of its own and a sea plane so the super-rich could dash back to Manila (to deny the latest scandal).

We would have raced our last day on that beautiful stretch of water below the hotel. It would have looked spectacular from the hotel bars or restaurants.

On the last evening speeches were made and “awards” given out. Despite the loss of boats and gear the PHINSAF guys announced that the event will be held again next year. That got a big cheer. A local primary school came and showed us some traditional dances. The kids were gorgeous.

An important part of the Challenge is to raise money for charity. The kids were part of that and some of our Hobie number visited a local village and gave out practical gifts. I missed that but as “one of Perth’s leading restauranteurs”, I felt obligated to do some field research by tasting the delicious cocktails at the bar instead. Not bad from the edge of an infinity pool. And at around $3 each. I’m such a workaholic; always thinking of work, even when I’m on holidays.

So that was it. Lucy, Rod, Mark and Michael stayed a couple of extra days, dived on some Jap wrecks and swanned around living the life of A- listers. Ben and I went sight-seeing but found ourselves so overwhelmed by spectacular beauty that often we didn’t bother looking. You can only take so much of spectacular beauty… Wait. What am I saying? Greg and Alex went to Manila, had temporary passports made and came back with a

remarkable story to tell. We met them at the airport there and we all travelled back to Perth together – happy little Vegemiters.

We had represented Nedlands Yacht Club –in some kind if eating, drinking, high living, snorkel diving, social event. It was not the experience we had imagined. It was a different one, but it was a beauty nevertheless.

I know we all recommend the Challenge to others. In fact I have to say you’d be barking mad to miss it!

Cheers,

Phil King