I just went crew-ing for a short but furious ride on a friend's h16. Wow, what an exciting ride. I'm almost sorry I traded mine in for a 5.0.



Standing up on the trapeze, literally standing up as the 16 heels over (almost 90 degrees, it feels like), looking down at that tiny, razor thin little hull, almost submerged in the surging foamy brine, watching that treacherous, low volume bow just millimeters from submerging - - that's adrenaline-making, and then some.



I'm too chicken to *play* chicken in front of a speeding locomotive, but standing up there watching that bow rocking closer and closer to the surface, scanning the water for stray boat chop - - seems to me more like playing chicken *on* the speeding locomotive - knowing the bridge is kinda shaky up ahead.



I could hear the submarine skippers voice from all the old movies, shouting, "5 degree angle on the bow planes, flood the tanks. Dive! Dive! Dive!" while the klaxon wails. Aooooooga! Aooooooga!



A real thrill. Definitely one reason "...men go down to the sea in ships"



I sincerely admire the skippers who rise to the challenge of milking every possible drop of performance out of this boat. I pray they will continue their dedicated efforts to give my boat an unfair advantage in the portsmouth rating system. :-)



But every time some A$$hole in a giant cruiser cuts across my very bows and throws house sized waves over the front of my speeding 5.0, submerging the bows a foot or more, *and the boat just keeps going* I shout, over the sound of waves smashing into the tramp, "Aaaah, ha ha ha, I love this boat!"



Ed Norris