With the smell of concrete dust in the still air, the young recruits rolled into ‘docking out mode’ as if on military manoeuvres. With few words and ant like efficiency, the Oman Sail team folded sail covers, untied fenders and loaded food and water. Just before we pushed off the dock the whole boat was given a refreshing spray from a hosepipe to shed the dust from the concrete jungle that consumes Bahrain; I don’t think I have ever been to a place that is changing so quickly in front of your eyes. New buildings are everywhere you look and the skyline has an impressive array of cranes. Inlets and canals reach in and around the luxury developments bringing the sea to you and you to the sea. Even if the new occupants don’t yet have a boat, they will be obliged to get one - it would be like living on a sheep farm without a sheep dog. I only hope they get one with mast and sails not bow thruster and horse-power.

The Kingdom of Bahrain also has a rich maritime history and the newly formed ‘Sail Bahrain’ team aims to create a new and exciting future for sailing and watersports in the Kingdom. As we left, two Volvo 60s were arriving and their future plans include an intention to develop an iconic yacht club on par with those which grace other leading maritime countries and a youth education programme along a similar vein to that of Oman Sail. We look forward to friendly sporting competition between the teams. Maybe an annual meet or team race.

As we let go of our lines and headed out to open water, there was a very light southerly breeze promising a shifty beat to Qatar. It was very obvious from their actions that the three Omani sailors on board had worked it out: teamwork was the way forward. Mohsin Al Busaidi with his sailing experience led the group, solid, confident and assured. Nawaf, the fisherman was quick and nimble around the deck with good winch skills. His father was a sailor and obviously passed on awareness and an understanding of the sea. However, Nawaf is hampered by his lack of English. Enter Haitham, his English is very good, but has no prior sailing experience. So Mohsin and Nawaf get tips from him with their English. They in return coach Haitham and teach him all they know on the boat. They have worked it out; together they are strong. When I told Haitham what I was writing about, he replied, “Yes, in Arabic we say, ‘you can’t clap loud with only one hand’.” Their actions and communication are becoming confident and assured throughout the many routine manoeuvres. Loud confident calls are needed for the hoists, drops, tacks and gybes. It’s hard to get an Omani to raise his voice to a prefectural bark to shout “cut”, “made”, “hold” or “grind”, because they are such a calm and gentle people.

The trip to Qatar was only held up by shifting winds and poorly lit fishing nets. We held a constant bow watch, often needing to change course 90 degrees to get round the ends of the nets. The fish were jumping all around us so we couldn’t blame the fishermen for their efforts. Biased, we were on the side of the fish as we were weren’t that keen to get caught either!

On the outer approaches to the port of Doha and still miles from the entrance, we saw a small rib heading straight at us. Our shore crew? No. Customs ? No. We could have spent the evening guessing, but we would never have reached the right answer: an old sailing buddy of our skipper, Paul Standbridge. Mike Bastined was a helmsman on board three of Paul’s past Whitbread Round the World races. “Who would have thought after so many years we would meet again in Doha?!” Paul exclaimed excitedly. Another lesson to the young Omani sailors: sailing is a fraternity and a ticket to travel. Our sport is a chance to make life long friends who will greet you in the most unexpected places.