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Regatta Brunei 2013

Be careful what you wish for.

That mantra went round and round in my head as I and twelve other Excellencies paddled down the Brunei River, vainly trying to catch the boat in front, urged on by friendly cheering (or was it laughter) from every jetty, doorway and window of Kampong Ayer – Brunei’s Water Village.

Scroll back to last year, “Regatta 2012”, and I admit I did fantasise about taking part. The sight of those majestic, many-oared, war canoes carving their way down the river was exhilarating. I wanted to get closer to such living history.

So when the Ministry of Home Affairs approached me, as Acting Dean of the Diplomatic Corps, and asked whether I would assemble a team of High Commissioners and Ambassadors for the “Special Race” – the event graced by His Majesty the Sultan and other members of the Royal Family – there was only one answer I could give.

I was delighted and relieved that twelve other Heads of Mission rose to this challenge – a credit to the spirit of teamwork and companionship which pervades the Diplomatic Corps in Bandar.

Would that teamwork translate onto the water? We found out during three practice sessions in a boat borrowed from the police, with experts from the RBP Rowing Team to drill us. Three beautiful evenings on the water, followed by several days of aching backs and shoulders. Paddling uses a different set of muscles than are usually called on in diplomatic life (where we mainly exercise our jaws). This was the first time I have felt envy towards my colleagues who play golf. They seemed fitter, somehow.

The great day came, and we had an intimidating morning in the viewing stand on the Royal Wharf, watching Bruneian and visiting teams show us how it was done.

At 1330 we reported to our boat and clambered in. It was lighter and a good deal less stable than the one we’d practised in. A tug took us up-stream to the starting pontoon – which was just as well, or we would have expired before the race got under way. We had barely backed our boat into the dock when the klaxon sounded and we were off.

Pure adrenalin and competitive spirit dredged up from our school days surged through twelve diplomats “of a certain age”. We set a completely unrealistic pace at the start – confused by the chants and rhythmical splashing from the other boats – and somehow managed to keep going at or near that pace for the next 1,000 meters. In our practice sessions, we had only ever managed 100 consecutive strokes before collapsing.

The race went by in a blur. That’s also how it looks on this home movie below, because there was a lot of water on the lens. But we did not disgrace ourselves. And no one drowned. “As long as it was fun”, HM said when handing us our medals. “It was, Your Majesty”, I could honestly reply.

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