The gigs can be heard before they are seen. The rhythmic thump of oar on thole pin. Beating time to the hoarse chant of the coxwain. Up. . . . .
. . . . . .and down, the gigs fly. Hard at practice, each evening.
Zumaia's canalised approach channel affords crews the luxury of flat water. But, undeterred, fellow teams will be at exercise, out in the Biscay swell, off Castro Urdiales, Bilbao and beyond.
These are not the elm planked, clinker built, six oar Scillonian Pilot Gigs raced in the UK.
These are twelve oar power houses, requiring a fast RIB (rigid hulled inflatable boat) for the coach to keep up. Hulls smooth skinned, with plenty of flare.
Breathtaking though their standing start acceleration is, to behold, the coach is a hard man to please. Throwing his arms wide, in a universal gesture of disbelief, at the latest performance.
The crew take it all in good heart. And turn for another speed run. The coxwain swinging all her weight against the mighty steering sweep. The crew keeping the power flowing.
The party piece, of these boats, is an aquatic handbrake turn: The bow oar stops rowing and holds a short sweep over the side (here, with blue and white blade, lying ready on the stem). The rest of the crew keep pulling. The steering oar is put over. Spinning the gig upon its axis. At close to full speed.
Zumaia was first a shipyard town. . . . . .
. . . . . .before the coming of the watersports centre. . . . .
. . . . .and surrounding leisure development.
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Today the yard is refitting two windfarm support vessels, which dwarf the church and waterfront apartments.
The enthusiasm for gig racing, both here and all along this coast, born of that seafaring heritage.
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