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Alcadir in the Navy boat

The winds were picking up, tautening his sails and whipping his hair. Alcadir as an Elf was mostly immune to extremes of weather, short of Helcaraxë levels, but his skin still bristled with goose flesh and he laughed a short breathless gasp that was immediately torn away by the breeze.

Treacherously, the wind turned; a great surge lifted the swelling waves with the easy force of a god, slapping the tiny craft down and away, back towards... the green boat in which Talina was standing. Alcadir’s eyes widened in alarm, blue with the reflected storm.

“Look out!” he called, bracing his legs against the sides of the boat and stretching out with his light oar. A tap on the side of the other vessel should deflect the force and prevent a collision or a swamping!

B roll

Rilla, red boat

The waves, the wind, the water all seemed to suddenly be on her side! Rilla's boat soared through the water with all the grace of a swan and the hobbit jumped up and down with glee (and decidedly less grace than her trusty boat).

"Whoopeee!" She laughed at the sight of the blue and green boats nearly colliding and Alcadir's efforts to stop the crash. As she passed Erniel in the pink boat, she saluted him as thanks for lagging behind.

Sasparilla Brandybuck-Banks was back in the race with no boats in sight ahead of her! (Oh dear, she had not spied the white boat and the impending storm yet.) She could already see herself crossing the finish line and getting crowned champion. There'd be a crown, right? One that was perfectly hobbit-sized?

"Go, go, go!" She cried to the boat. "We're going to be the famousest hobbit and boat there ever was! The elves'll be recruiting me to sail their ships for them at this rate!"

B roll

“Well fredegar me running,” Finnbarr looked at the corpulent white mass heading toward him and understood why he’d won the flyting with the oysters. A wave that dwarfed his tiny craft was bearing down on him like an ex after alimony (not that Finnbarr would know anything about that mind you). “Hard to…” he shouted to his nonexistent helmsman, then remember he was alone. For a hard second, Finnbarr considered simply diving below the water and letting the wave pass. But that would be cheating, wouldn’t it? He looked at roiling blue waters longingly before finally sighing and jumping to the helm. The wave was much bigger than something he’d expect in the gulf, he suspected dear old Ossë was behind the rogue wave. What more did the sea god want? He already had Finnbarr’s dwarven whisky! Some people just want more. “If you give an otter a crayfish…” he mumbled under his breath. He swore and threw the wheel hard to port, nearly throwing him off balance (he was a 7,000-year-old sailor, if a little turbulence threw him off his balance he didn’t belong on the sea anymore). He stayed upright though and began to laugh as he felt the spray of the wave. The thing was big, almost comically so, but Finnbarr had speed, at least he believed he did, and with the right angle (not a right angle mind you) he knew he could slip passed the wave and be in the clear once more. He held his breath and braced himself.

B Roll, once more!

Shamara


Travelling around and seeing some of the distant lands was definitely fun, and while wandering around and exploring, the Umbarian ended up by the Gulf of Lhûn. Apparently the boat race was taking place, and for a while she stood on the shore and watched, hugging the warm cloak close to her against the wind.

Then she wondered whether the water was just as cold as the air, and balancing on one leg, she removed her left boot and sock and dipped her toes in the water. "Uuuuuuuh!" The toes came right back out. At that precise moment Shamara looked up and noticed that one boat had remained unoccupied. Without a second thought, she began jumping towards the boat, while still attempting to make sure her left foot was back in the warmth and booted. She ended up half-tumbling into the boat first and only then finally got her boot properly fitted yet again.

"I s'pose this boat was still for the taking, right?" she asked, hoping that she wouldn't be kicked out; the race had already started, after all. Then again the question remained of whether she could even properly handle the boat...

A roll, please!

He sighed with relief. By the luck of the octopus, he’d managed to skirt around the edge of the rogue wave. He wiped his brow then laughed as he realized how foolish that was, his brow being slick with salt water spray. He patted the ship’s wheel with a tender touch. “I think we were quite lucky there, don’t you?” The Pearl Queen could have managed such a wave (it would take a lot to rock her) but this little boat, hardly more than a skiff, would have been absolutely devastated and he would have had to swim to his father with his tail tucked between his legs. Tension released in his shoulders and relaxed.

Upcoming was an island, he hadn’t noticed it before, his attention being solely focused on the large wave. He had just moments to make a decision. One way looked shorter, but there were more crabs. From this distance, Finnbarr couldn’t tell to which crab clan they belonged. Crabbius was a friend, but his clan was not the only one in the gulf and they did not always get on with each other. His friendship with Crabbius could be seen by other, more hostile crabs as an invitation to get into a fight. Finnbarr, normally, would not have batted an eye, after all fights in the ocean were just how things worked, but he was pressed for time today. He looked back. He was a fair distance ahead, but he was by no means in control of a commanding lead yet. He looked back at the crabs as they clacked their claws in the mist. The Falmari frowned and turned the wheel, taking the longer route. It was better right now to be safer than faster. His little white boat had already been through quite an ordeal with flying fish and oysters, giant crabs might do the poor thing in.

He felt a bit sad, not getting to engage with the crabs, but there was always other sea life to entertain, perhaps he’d find some more on this side of the island.

Taking the longer way ‘round and a B Roll, if you please