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Editorials
Think this is ugly? You should have seen 1988.
If you think the America's Cup has turned ugly in 2008, consider this: it's been tea at the Ritz compared to the '88 defense in San Diego. On the 20th anniversary of courtroom collisions, mudslinging and name-calling cloaking the mismatch between Michael Fay's 130-foot monohull, KZ-1, and Dennis Conner's 60-foot catamaran, Stars & Stripes, the current dust-up is a faint echo of that fiasco.
In '88, following Fay's rogue challenge, it quickly became the Acrimonious Cup. When New York Supreme Court Justice Carmen Ciparick (1988's Herman Cahn) had dissected the Deed of Gift and decided she had heard enough legal squabbling she told the adversaries to try to settle it on the water --- and then come back to court if they still had a problem.
Describing the actual racing as a mind-numbing bore would be generous. It entered America's Cup lore as the "Coma off Point Loma." While reporters and photographers on press boats nodded off through the best-of-three series, the cat swept the Kiwi colossus by just over and under 20 minutes in two races over a 40-mile course.
But Fay appealed his defeat, so . . . hello, Justice Ciparick, here we are again, back in the AC's glorified protest room. Six months later Ciparick stripped Stars & Stripes of its shallow victory and awarded the Auld Mug to New Zealand. Later, that call was switched back to S&S, but by then nobody cared because all of the wonderful vibes from DC's glorious victory at Fremantle in '87 that had lifted sailing to new heights of interest and enthusiasm in the world---especially America---had died of disenchantment.
As the racing of 2007 is dying now.
The 1988 drama hit its low point at the final press conference which ended with Bruce Farr, who designed the New Zealand boat, calling Stars & Stripes design chief John Marshall "a liar" and Conner calling Farr "a loser."
Eight of the main players were seated on the stage, with the unflappable Bruno Trouble in the middle, serving not so much as moderator as referee. Conner was to his immediate right and Fay and Farr to his far left. Following some pleasantries, notably from Conner about his respect for the Kiwi sailors being "good sports [who] sailed their boat well" and how he regretted the animosity involved. But the mood turned mean when a reporter asked Fay to restate his determination to protest the catamaran back to the New York court.
Before Fay could respond, DC pulled a letter from his pocket. "While we're politicking here, Michael . . . " he said.
Fay interrupted: "I haven't started politicking yet, Dennis."
Conner read the letter Fay wrote to the SDYC on July 23, 1987, extolling the virtues of big boats, then said, "I'd like to suggest that's what you challenged us with, and that's what we responded with."
Fay: "I think, Dennis, I was describing a monohull, not a catamaran."
Conner: "It doesn't say anything about monohull or catamaran, Michael."
Fay: "Did you pick up the first letter on July 23 or did you pick one up on July 17?"
Conner: "I'm just a carpet salesman, Michael."
Fay: "OK, I'll tell you about the one on July 17. Remember it said . . . `keel yacht.' That's the boat we challenged with."
(And you thought the issue of a "keel yacht" was new in 2008?)
Marshall, who had suggested the catamaran defense, then said, "If it was a mismatch, it was because the challenging yacht was not fast . . . and it's ridiculous to ask myself or any designer to match a yacht that's not fast."
At the other end, Farr winced. Conner then responded by mimicking archrival Tom Blackaller's reaction at Fremantle in 1986 to DC calling the Kiwis cheaters for sailing a fiberglass boat : "Whoops, I wouldn't have said that."
Then Farr said, "I find it quite disturbing that the gentlemen on my right, who are supposedly professionals in their work, can sit in a press conference and tell lies. None of the other designers who have criticized the boat---particularly those representing the people on my right---have had the guts to come out and design one to race against us. Until they do that, we're the fastest 90-foot waterline boat in the world."
Conner alluded to "loopholes" in the Deed of Gift governing Cup competition, which Fay was charged with exploiting.
Fay said, "Just read the deed, Dennis."
Conner started to respond: "Michael . . ." --- then turned to the audience and said, "It's hard to believe that I really like him."
Fay: "What do you do to people you don't like?"
At last, as the conference broke up and New Zealand skipper David Barnes stepped past Trouble to shake hands with Conner, Farr stepped past both of them and said to Marshall, "You're a liar."
Conner said to Farr, "You little ----, you're a loser. Get out of here."
Quickly, a Stars & Stripes security man stepped between them and escorted Farr off the stage.
So it was in '88. Hey, Alinghi and Oracle, do you really want to go there?
Keep in mind that in '88 the teams were more or less still representing yacht clubs, not rich guys who bought the the clubs' patronage and not the way George L. Schuyler's Deed of Gift suggested it should be---even though Fay's Mercury Bay YC was a derelict car on a New Zealand beach. But that naive concept, like "friendly competition between foreign countries," now lies scuttled on the bottom.
By the way, when was the last time anyone heard from the leaders of the Golden Gate YC or Switzerland's Societe Nautique de Geneve? They must be very proud. -- Rich Roberts
History Meets History
Jack Sutphen rode in the tickertape parade on New York's Fifth Avenue when Team Dennis Conner brought the Cup home from Australia. Dare I risk suggesting there's a new generation of sailors out there who cannot imagine that such a thing as a ticker tape parade for sailors could have happened in the USA? Or that a winning America's Cup team was invited to the White House?
I haven't had a chance to ask Jack Sutphen if he knew "Myron," who was a one-name institution around San Francisco Bay almost in the way Jack's friend "Dennis" is a one-name institution worldwide. Maybe I can find out, come Saturday, when Jack drops into the Spaulding Wooden Boat Center in Sausalito: History meeting history.
Jack Sutphen started out as an East Coast guy (it doesn't get much more East Coast than Larchmont Yacht Club's junior program), but I think of him as San Diego because that's where I first found him, driving 12-Meters as a sparring partner for Conner. His first of nine America's Cup campaigns was 1958—that was the revival year after WWII—and now Jack is an author, coming 'round for a book signing.
Myron? Well, he was Myron. Frisco Bay to the core. Aced the woodshop class at Polytechnic High ("By the time I had finished my bookends, that guy had built a boat." Prescott Sullivan). Damn fine first-fiddle with the symphony until he quit that for a 95-year-lucid life of designing, building, measuring, fixing, and sailing sailing sailing boats. Did he own one pair of wrinkled khakis or twenty pair identical? Kind of like a character in Faulkner: so individual that he carried all of the life of the galaxy inside him. That, and the fact that Myron's yard remains as a time capsule that could never be replaced, tells us why the Spaulding Wooden Boat Center has to succeed in its mission of preserving the art and craft of traditional boats.
Yes, children, there was a time when you could walk into a builder's yard, and it smelled good, like wood and warm sawdust and - oops, let's not step over yonder where they're slapping on the lead-based paint or it will spoil our pretty picture - but the picture is pretty, isn't it . . .
Jack Sutphen's Messing About in Boats for 80 Years ( www.classicyachtfoundation.org/SALES/jacks_book.htm ) is a series of reminiscences. It's not a writerly attempt to blow your socks off. But it's a read, and there are some of us (you know who you are) who just have to have these works because nothing else speaks to this point or that. -- Kimball Livingston, his full article at sailmagazine.blogspot.com
BOA Backs Down on Gagging Athletes
Good to see that the British Olympic Association shows signs of backing down on its 'gagging clause' in the contract that all British athletes have to sign before competing in the Games this summer. BOA chief executive Simon Clegg has now said the BOA has "no desire to restrict athletes' freedom of speech."
He went on: ""I accept that the interpretation of one part of the draft BOA'S Team Members Agreement appears to have gone beyond the provision of the Olympic Charter. This is not our intention and the final Agreement will reflect this."
This is a good thing.
But I hope this doesn't mean that journalists will now take the opportunity to ask hard, political questions of young athletes who just want to be in China to compete. Athletes shouldn't be used as political footballs. Not if they don't want to get involved. But at least those athletes, such as badminton player Richard Vaughn, who do want to take a stand, now have more licence to express themselves - should they have the courage and moral strength to do so.
Meanwhile, Hollywood is stepping up the pressure, thanks mainly to actress Mia Farrow who seems to have convinced Stephen Spielberg to take a hard line against China's lack of will to intervene in the human rights disaster in Sudan, with whom the Asian superpower has strong trade links.
The Hollywood film mogul has now pulled out of his role as artistic adviser to the Beijing Olympics, saying his conscience wouldn't allow him to continue in that role. Politicians are now playing down talk of a possible boycott, and let's hope it never gets to that. The 1980 and 1984 boycotts were bad news, and probably achieved very little. Better to be there in China, have two weeks of great sport, and if any athlete wants to speak out while in the country, so be it. -- Andy Rice in his must-read blog: sailjuiceblog.com
Fine Cruising Combines With Fine Whisky
Entries are now being accepted for the annual Classic Malts Cruise - a unique two week sailing voyage along the spectacular coastline of north-west Scotland in July. The UK's biggest non-competitive sailing event, the annual Classic Malts Cruise is sponsored by Diageo's Classic Malts Selection, and was launched in 1994 to celebrate the 200th anniversary of the distillery at Oban.
The participating crews sign up for the outstanding cruising on offer, and the chance to explore the bays, islands and mountains on the west coast of Scotland. They also enjoy visits to the famous malt whisky distilleries that punctuate the sailing route, starting from the busy coastal town of Oban on 12 July, then northwards to one of the world's most isolated malt whisky distilleries, Talisker on the Isle of Skye, before concluding at Lagavulin on Islay at the southern end of the Hebridean island chain on 25 July.
Special distillery visits and tastings are arranged for the participants, with each distillery throwing open their doors and hosting a dinner and ceilidh - a typical Scottish party with music, dancing and of course fine single malts to enjoy. Along the way, crews are also treated to informal malt whisky tastings organised in some truly spectacular locations by the Classic Malts Selection "roving noses" sailing with the yachts.
The popularity of the Classic Malts Cruise has gone global, now attracting crews from Ireland, France, Germany, the Netherlands, Norway, Sweden, Finland and the Baltic States as well as the United Kingdom. With easy access to this special sailing region from charter locations along the west coast, crews come from as far away as the USA and New Zealand, chartering a yacht locally to join in the fun.
The Event's organisers, World Cruising Club, offer advice and assistance, particularly for those sailors who have not sailed in Scotland before, or who are looking to charter a yacht locally.
Information and entry details are available at www.classicmaltscruise.com
On The Coffee Table This Weekend
A Voyage for Madmen, by Peter Nichols, 298 pages, published by Harper Collins.
It's hard to believe now, in an age where the internet brings moment to moment experiences of circumnavigators onto our desktops, that there was a time not so long ago when ocean racers sailed over the horizon and no one knew where they'd gone or if they'd ever come back. And it was just 40 years ago when nine men set out on a race sponsored by the Sunday Times to circle the globe, solo and unassisted... and only one, Sir Robin Knox-Johnston, finished.
Among the sailors was a French author and mystic named Bernard Moitessier, who having rounded the Horn and in a position to finish and/or win the race, retired and kept sailing for another three months to Polynesia. His book The Long Way describes his voyage as a spiritual journey as well as a physical one.
Another, famous now, but unknown then, was a troubled electronics engineer named Donald Crowhurst. Facing bankruptcy and financial ruin for his young family, he entered the race wildly unprepared, in hopes of winning the 5000 pound winner's prize. While Nicolas Tomalin's The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst is also a great read, Nichols does an excellent job of putting Crowhurst's entry into the context of both his life and troubles and the Golden Globe race. A Voyage for Madmen, indeed, for Crowhurst went mad, falsifying his records to show remarkable progress around the world (he never left the Atlantic), descending into madness and abandoning his boat to die in the ocean.
There's a foreboding of Crowhurst's coming madness and suicide in a passage relating his beaching the boat near the Rio Plata, in search of repair materials...
"He then drew a map on a piece of wrapping paper showing them the sailing course around the world. he drew a second picture... showing his trimaran, from the side, and from above. He wrote on this 'Octobre 31-68'. Then he drew a third picture, a rough map of the Atlantic, but showing a different route: England to a small island off South Africa, then to South America, then, in a lighter line, back to England - perhaps an attampt at confession. But [no one] understood the meaning of this last drawing, and the Englishman, talking excitedly and disconnectedly, wasn't making much sense..."
The disconnect between the modern world's instantcy of information and the near-blackout of information once the sailors left shore (even radios were of limited use and range) makes this tale of seamanship, foolishness and hubris a startling read.
The Last Word
Free speech is the whole thing, the whole ball game. Free speech is life itself. -- Salman Rushdie
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