“Veni, Vidi, Voster” – we came, we saw, we drank Foster. Of course, it should have been “Veni, Vidi, Vici” like the famous words of Julius Caesar, who came, saw and conquered, but unfortunately it wasn’t to be this year.

The Stanley Championship are of course the most important race of the season. It’s the one we train for, the one we fight for, the one we all want to win. With over 200 teams and 50 races, it must surely be the biggest dragon boat festival in the world. Ever since having won the B Cup Championships in 2008, the Liechtenstein Princely Navy has been on a relentless crusade towards A Cup glory. Last year we came third, but only after a collision in the final that took out the favorites (Jeb Fellas) and two other strong contenders.

This year, therefore, a lot of teams had something to prove. Out of the twenty A Cup entries, the Jeb Fellas – freshly re-named BW Furniture (nice!) – were obviously out to re-claim ‘their’ cup. The Tigers, who snatched it from them last year, were trying to prove that last year wasn’t just an accident induced fluke. The rest of us – SMUGs, Stormies and others were simply chasing the A Cup dream. And to top it all off, the Hamburt Synbicate Dagonboat Team (spelling according to the official program) flew in from Germany to try and steal the cup on a diet of bratwurst and sauerkraut. Over our dead Liechtenstein bodies!

Thus it was shaping up to be a grand day. The format was simple: two heats of ten boats each, with points according to finishing position. The top ten point scorers go into the Gold Cup. Race 1 saw us nicely lined up next to the Tigers in lane 6 and 7 with IKEA (sorry, BW Furniture) in lane 2. The Admiral’s pre-race briefing was brief: focus, focus, focus! Forget everything that’s happening around us, just focus on our boat, stick to the strategy, stay together and win this thing!

Under a glorious blue sky and sweltering heat we were sitting in our starting slot, all eyes on CFO Fred. The gun went off and we jumped out of the box, adrenaline and Red Bull shooting through our veins. The LiechtenStart was good, READY AND REACH and into the chug, charging down towards the beach, Tigers breathing down our necks. Across the line and only three boats clearly in the A Class, the other seven in A Minus Class far behind. The carpenters won it, Tigers took second and the Navy in third.

The second heat was only an hour away, hence just enough time to take a little rest in the shade, re-fuel (no Foster’s yet!) and re-charge. We really didn’t need much of a change in strategy. Just more of the same. Sharper and better. Tigers were there again, as were the Stormies who had won their first heat. There clearly were not going to be any easy races today!

We slotted ourselves again into the starting pontoon, heads and eyes in the boat, paddles deep in the water, ready to pounce once again. The start was aggressive and powerful, as was the first part of the chug. As always, we seemed ahead at the start, but others were quickly reeling us in. But for the first time this season we found that extra kick, that extra ‘give it all’ to pull away in the last twenty strokes to the line. It felt gloriously good and it was clearly our best race piece the entire season. The helmsman thought we were first or second, but the line judges thought otherwise and it ended up being only fourth. That was a bit of a surprise and disappointment, but such is the level of competition in the A Cup. No easy wins here!

Anyway, as in every other event this season (with the exception of the ‘tied up’ race in Mui Wo), we had yet again qualified for the top final. According to points, we were sixth overall. No bad, but obviously five places away from where we wanted to end the day. But anything can happen in the final.

We retreated to a spot of risotto and ham on the Princely Yacht, expertly prepared as always by Chief Galley Officer Stefan and his wife. We also had enough time for the traditional Awards and Promotions , although there weren’t many promotions (only demotions really) and the only surprise was that Petty Officer Martin didn’t win the ARSE Award this year. Having also taken a close look at the Playboy girls that were being shipped around the race course, it was time to focus on our paddling again.

Obviously all the Usual Suspects made it into the Gold Cup Final, including the krauts and the stool makers. Royal X Men were to our right. Lt Cmdr Charlie only had one piece of additional advice: we can win this, but we need to be more aggressive. No more Mister Nice Guy. Let’s f***ing do it!

We were in lane 9, close to the umpire’s boat, hence not much opportunity to ‘freddy’ the start. But it was an aggressive start nonetheless. Giving it all – physically and mentally – we powered through our usual routine. Supporters on the shore though we were in second place after the start. But they also saw our helmsman taking a big swing on the last twenty meters of the race, struggling to keep the boat straight. Inside the boat, focused on Fred and the timing, we didn’t see any of that. But we felt it wasn’t a winning performance. We felt the power wasn’t sufficient. There were frustrated calls of “COME ON!” at thirty or forty strokes, trying to summon extra powers from deep within. Personally I tried to give everything – don’t rush it, but really pull it. Off the seat in every stroke. Deeper, harder, more. But it wasn’t enough. It was clear BW Furniture had won it and the rest looked relatively close, as you would expect from the final.

It was a disappointing finish and no amount of Foster’s could hide that. I was dreading to hear the result, fearing the worst. It turned out to be seventh and it warranted a ‘merit’ trophy which we graciously accepted with many loud renditions of the Liechtenstein song! We congratulate the SMUGs for coming second and thank them for pushing the Big Germans into third on our behalf. Tigers were fourth.

Thus we live to paddle another day. It wasn’t all bad of course - in the contrary - but when you set your expectations at the highest level, only the best will be good enough. Plenty of Foster’s (15 cases to be exact) and much more Liechtenstein singing quickly lifted spirits as we rounded the Stanley peninsula on our way to the after party where we joined the revelry and plotted strategy for next year (more Foster’s!).