TAXI drivers know everything. So it should have come as no surprise to Fairplay’s editor when the driver who was taking him to his hotel on the afternoon before the Fairplay Cup should have been an amateur meteorologist. He’d been tracking the weather for years, he said, and claimed a 70 per cent accuracy on his predictions. He even has his own barograph, he said as if to prove beyond doubt his authority on the subject.
With the flags at the marina crackling at their poles, there was certainly no shortage of wind that afternoon. But what of tomorrow? A front bisected the Solent and was forecast to move north, taking the wind with it. What did Terry the taxi driver make of that? Nonsense: a high pressure area over the Wash in eastern England will push it back, he said. And, what with the funnel effect created between the mainland and the Isle of Wight, he predicted a force 6 at the precise spot where Fairplay’s 22 yachts, a motor cruiser and a semi-inflatable were destined to converge in the morning. There will be, said Terry, "plenty to sail with." We shall see.
Fairplay Cups in the past have enjoyed plenty to sail with. Some of the conversation at the pre-race briefing that evening centred on Cups of yore and of battles fought against the elements. But last year’s event made up for all that, being noted for its soft breezes and warm sunshine. How would the Fairplay Cup of 2000 be remembered? As a tussle against Terry’s force 6 or as a balmy drift? Sandwiched between two high pressure systems, it could go either way, and Tor-Christian Mathiesen of DNV – who gave his now legendary pre-race briefing – was making no predictions, apart from the one he makes every year: "there may be a little wind."
But his briefing clarified a point that had rankled for a year since DNV controversially won the cut glass Fairplay Cup last year after finishing in a tie with the Denholm Group on the results of the two races. Racing rules say that the last race takes precedence, giving the cup to Denholm. Fairplay rules emphasised the first race, and the cup went to DNV. This year, in the event of a tie, the actual race timings – to the second – would decide the winner. "And what if there’s still a tie," called out one guest, who probably also thinks he has a good chance of winning the lottery.
Whether the pre-race briefing is anything other than an excuse to enjoy the free beer is never really clear. For many, it is a chance to catch up with old friends, meet new rivals and spike their drinks. Whatever happened, for example, to the planned two-boat race between DNV and Denholm that was to be sailed in the Clyde last September? It never happened, nor did an attempt to reschedule it for May in Oslo. But it will take place, Fairplay was assured.
For Stentex, "one look at the assembled crews gave a whole new meaning to the word motley." Most of its crew members were new to sailing and admitted later how, as they viewed the "silent, rugged, weather-beaten seadogs in worn chinos, faded shirts and deck shoes," two things struck them: first, "they all looked knowingly nautical," and second, that Stentex had brought most of the ladies present.
Hot favourites
Some of Litton Marine’s two crews had no doubt where their duty lay: "putting
in practice at the bar," said one team member, asking for the hot favourites
to be pointed out to him across the now-crowded and noisy room. But that’s
a good question: who are the hot favourites? Should Litton be sent in the
direction of recent winners, or do some of this year’s newcomers rank as contenders
for the trophy?
Blue Water Marine, for example, has a team name – Fast Water – that suggests a hopeful approach to the event. Or perhaps Elf Lub Marine will show that a little French lubrication will speed them to victory. Will Harwich Haven Authority enjoy the unusual sensation of depth under their keel – compared with the muddy shallows of their more familiar UK East Coast waters – and turn in a memorable performance? Or can Marriott & Co, presumably strengthened by a diet of Marmite – as they named their team – lift the cup this year?
Infospectrum, on the other hand, saw their entry as an Odyssey, but let’s hope their voyage does not require the 24 books that Homer’s epic novel filled. And Richards Butler seemed to expect some pushing and shoving with their team name, R-gee Bargee, and team captain Richard Harvey even claimed to be able to read a tide table. When questioned on tactics, however, he could only manage a puzzled look. "We expect to be mid field," he modestly predicted.
Then there’s Fairplay. Not a newcomer, exactly, but this year we set out to win. After so many years languishing at the back of the fleet – well, it would be rude not to – followed by last year’s mere observer status, we decided that our founder, who gazes at us out of the boardroom wall from the deck of what was clearly a large and expensive yacht, would appreciate the notion that his successors had demonstrated some skill in the sport he loved. So technical editor Mark ‘nothing-less-than-first-will-do’ Langdon had allocated tasks to his carefully trained crew. The rest could scrap over second place.
The morning dawned. Terry-the-taxi-driver, where are you now? Is this a force 6? No, but this is breakfast at the marina, giving a final chance for tactics and team talk over the bacon rolls and Danish pastries. Perhaps a late night had taken the edge off some of yesterday evening’s planning, as one skipper imparted to Fairplay’s editor the wisdom that "those who are good are going to do well." Well, fancy that.
But it was not as dumb as it sounded. No, the wind wasn’t force 6, but there was a breeze, unlike last year’s event at this time, when the water was mirror-smooth. And light airs, pointed out another skipper, need as much skill as strong winds, particularly on waters with the complex tidal streams found in the Solent.
So what is the real weather forecast? Sunsail’s race manager Clive Vaughan had that at the skipper’s briefing: misty, brightening later. Wind: west or WSW 3-4, locally variable 2 in the Solent, becoming SW 2, possibly falling toS or SW 1-3 later. But can we believe it? "Yesterday," said Clive, "the forecast was 2-3 but we had a 6." Perhaps Terry will be proved right yet. And, as the crews set off for their boats, Clive had one final piece of advice. "Contrary to popular belief, sailing is not a contact sport." Yeah, right.
But not everyone had a crew yet. Michael Else’s representative at the briefing was last seen on his mobile trying to locate the rest of his crew. Perhaps a team name of ‘no-one Else’ would be more appropriate at this point. And a Castrol team member seemed to be finding the technique of inserting a pound coin into the trolley release mechanism to be akin to a management initiative test.
Situation normal
And a trolley was a useful thing to have. We may only be going out for a day,
but with a crate of drinks and a box of lunch for each boat, plus waterproofs
and a backpack of Fairplay freebies for every crew member, not to mention
a change of clothes, there was a lot to load. For one Henderson Boyd Jackson
guest, this is normal. He has only ever sailed in the Fairplay Cup and knows
nothing of the notion that sailing is like standing under a shower tearing
up ten pound notes. For him sailing is being greeted by people thrusting gifts
into his hand. It is stepping easily onto a well prepared boat, with a professional
skipper always available. It isenjoying an excellent lunch with fine wine
and beer all day. It is coming ashore, knowing that someone else will clean
and refuel the boat. It is being taken to a historic venue for a champagne
reception followed by more gifts and a sumptuous meal. And it has never cost
him a penny.
There were rumours that the companies with two boats in the race had put all the goodies – along with mattresses, anchors and anything else they could remove – onto one boat to help speed the other along, but surely no one would sacrifice these luxuries just to win a bit of glassware. That may not have happened, but at least one boat – Denholm’s Global Resource – took a scrubbing brush to the hull in an effort to gain some vital seconds.
One by one, everyone got away from the pontoon without leaving anything or anybody behind and with various ambitions for the day. Infospectrum, for example, confessed to having no strategy other than "to win." T-C Mathiesen did not expect to repeat last year’s triumph, saying that this year he’d "take it as it comes." He had one goal, though: "We have to win the start."
There is a prize for being first over the start line, donated by Cool Carriers, whose team manager Svante Hellberg also had expectations for the start. This year he hoped that he and his crew might be close enough to the line at the start at least to see who won his prize. As it turned out, he was to fail yet again in that ambition.
As luck would have it, the morning mist hung around while Fairplay’s photographer snapped most of the team photos, not helped by the lack of an updated list of sail numbers on the high-speed gin palace that the non-racing Fairplay staff and guests had made their home. Yet, although time was lost in looking for non-existent yachts, and in ignoring some very real ones, it gave an opportunity to break out the first of many bottles of bubbly to toast each of the contenders as they were photographed for these pages. So we raised our glasses not only to the newcomers but also to the old hands of the Young Baltic Exchange Sailing Club and to the well oiled teams from BP, Castrol, Shell and Stentex. We made sure our drinks were well chilled to greet Cool Carriers and managed a cheer for the Denholm Group.
We opened a new case for Henderson Boyd Jackson but wondered if it was classy enough to toast DNV. But we were reassured when we found Michael Else and felt safer with Harwich Haven, and never got lost with Litton Marine Systems knowing that Inchcape would keep us well supplied and that Totem would have a program to estimate the impact of the free surface effect on our stability of all these bottles and glasses.
It was late morning before the mist cleared, the sun started to shine and hopes of a sea breeze began to rise. Meanwhile, crews made the best of what wind there was. And there wasn’t much. One boat spent several minutes with no mainsail up, and seemed to move no slower than the others drifting around it. Infospectrum found enough wind to practice their manoeuvres with gusto and "admiring glances from the Elf Lub team showed that our intimidation tactics were working," believed crewman Nathan Wheeler. "The boat almost swaggered beneath us."
Which way round?
The Denholm Group tried a new tactic: hoisting their spinnaker back to front.
True, as they pointed out in the bar later, the sail is symmetrical, but since
the sailmaker has gone to the trouble of sewing on the coloured edging tapes,
it seems only polite to hoist the red one to port. Or maybe they expected
the rest of the fleet would always be behind, so gave them the opportunity
of seeing the Sunsail logo the right way round.
Castrol, meanwhile, were fiddling with their engine. "It was only a problem when we wanted to start it," said crew member Steve Milhench later, who blamed it on the boat’s bad feng-shui. Still, since they were all (well, nearly all) wearing their lifejackets while dealing with the problem, they won DNV’s safe sailing award that evening, so some good came of it. And they learned an important lesson: without an electrician on board it is difficult to see in the dark without burning your fingers.
"1300 – Fairplay Cup races," it said on the day’s programme sheet. The only race that started at 1300 was the race to find the start line. Clive Vaughan, on the committee boat, sensed a change in the wind direction coming and decided to reposition the start line. And he was right, but it took a little while to re-lay the line and announce the course by hanging a series of letters over the side of the committee boat – "a vowel please, Carol," said someone on Fairplay’s cruiser, who clearly watches too much daytime TV.
Richard’s Butler had been taking no chances with the course, crew member Richard Gunn having programmed all the likely buoys into the GPS waypoint list and offering odds on the probable course. "He would have made a few pence if he had bothered to lay out a bet," said one of his colleagues later.
A dodgy start
On what was left of the breeze, the 22 boats shaped up for the start and the
favoured starboard tack seemed to take boats almost straight down the line.
As the seconds ticked down, first one then another boat appeared to cross
early, although Fairplay’s vantage point was not exactly on the line, so how
could we be sure? But we were not alone in our belief. "A very dodgy start,"
with at least half a dozen boats over the line, alleged one crew in the bar
later, yet none was recalled. Perhaps we were both looking at a different
start line since Clive the race manager was adamant: there had been no early
starters. Or maybe it was a curved start line, as one team later suggested.
And the first across? Litton Marine’s No 2 boat, One Source – not to be confused
with its No 1 boat, Two Sauces.
Most of the pack continued on starboard but a few tacticians felt that port was the tack to be on, among them Fairplay’s race entry, Press Gang, and Marriott, who claimed to have 140 years of seatime on board. Press Gang soon went about: "Quickly realising the other tack was paying better dividends, we altered course and soon found ourselves among the leading bunch of boats," recalls crew member Paul van Dyck. Marriott, on the other hand, "remained on an aggressive port tack for longer than any other boat dared," and believed that they were among the early boats at the mark.
Castrol’s skipper, on the other hand, "plotted a course that left the other yachts guessing," reported one crew member. And not just other yachts, as the crew found themselves on "an emotional roller coaster as we appeared to shift from possible first place to last."
By now it was clear that it would not be a fast race. "At least they’re moving," said a Fairplay guest, but she spoke too soon for most of the fleet. Those who had stayed on starboard for longest, and thus against the ebbing tide, could now reap the benefit as the tide brought them back towards the first mark, while some of the early tackers were now down tide of the buoy and seemed to have no hope of clawing their way back. As the breeze finally died, two boats rounded the mark: Litton’s One Source and Shell’s Alexia, prompting a prescient remark on Fairplay’s cruiser: Alexia had not been among the first few boats across the start, yet here it is second at the first mark. "It could be the one to watch," said one guest.
Alexia’s crew had also noticed the turnaround in their fortunes. Surrounded, it seemed, by "some formidably professional-looking crews" at the start, in their matching waterproofs and jerseys, they had crossed the line about half way down the field. But a shrewd decision by their Sunsail skipper, Pippa, took them into the shipping channel where the strong ebb tide swept them up to the mark.
The Young Baltic Sailing Club was next round the mark and all three leaders hung up their spinnakers, the Baltic crew emulating Denholm’s earlier demonstration and tried it out back to front. Either way round, there was no drive to be had, since by now the wind had vanished and everyone was at the mercy of the tide.
Totem Plus found themselves pointing exactly the wrong way and a considerable distance from the mark. Yet they had found some wind. Litton’s One Source, however despite its success so far, seemed to be moving backwards. Its skipper had elected to steer to port after rounding the mark, and take the boat down tide a little, while the other two leaders were edging their way to starboard, and seeming to get the better of the occasional zephyrs.
Backwards or forwards at the mark?
Yet somehow the following fleet edged towards the mark, with Richard’s Butler’s
team R-gee Bargee pleased to round the mark bow first. "Others were seen skilfully
turning onto the downwind leg stern first," noted skipper Richard Harvey later,
who wondered "what happens to the ‘water’ rule when approaching a mark backwards."
For Infospectrum, the tactic was simply to go backwards slower than the rest
until eventually "a few breaths of wind, as if blown by an asthmatic ant,
got us round the buoy."
Denholm’s Global Resource and Fairplay’s Press Gang reached the mark almost simultaneously yet Denholm had a boat’s length advantage which, in these conditions, can represent several minutes of sailing. Denholm missed the mark by just a few inches, thanks – believe Press Gang’s crew – to some furious tiller pumping. The Press Gang were not averse to using some dinghy tactics themselves, however, using some neat roll tacking techniques to come round in sixth place.
Cool Carriers also encountered Denholm at the mark, recalling later how they were just 4 m away from it when Denholm put in a tack that blocked their approach; Cool Carriers had drifted about 40 m down tide before they recovered from the setback. Totem also met The Denholm Group round the buoy: "At first sight it appeared that we could just pass," recalled Totem’s Merav Levy after the race. "This turned out to be misjudged and Denholm, the stand-on boat, had no other choice but to alter to port. Feeling the guilt, we punished ourselves with a 720-degree turn." It was at that point that the wind died: "We can only assume that our two swings confused the wind," Merav mused.
As for Denholm’s crew, they reported being hampered on their way to the mark by a large ketch that appeared to be under full power on autohelm, with its two crew members packing sails on the foredeck. "A certain amount of ‘polite’ shouting persuaded them to return to the cockpit and take the necessary avoiding action in time." So they were ready when, nearer the buoy, Totem’s boat, Hutzpa, "remained stubbornly on port tack and we had to take avoiding action." There is no hint of sympathy in their log note that they "left them slowly attempting a 720 in an almost flat calm."
Close encounters such as these were unnerving to Mathias Buschbeck on board BP’s Crude Power. He has been a windsurfer these past 20 years or so and suggested to his skipper that it might be wise to keep at least 30 cm away from other boats. "Don’t worry," came the reply. "You must be able to smell the fear of your competitor." But the aroma of fear was beginning to rise on his own boat, as they watched helplessly as several others rounded the mark ahead of them. But once the wind dropped, "the current began to do what the wind couldn’t and lifted us round the mark," Mathias reported later.
...nor any drop to drink
With no wind to disturb the peaceful scene, some boats took the opportunity
to make inroads into the alcohol supplies. On Dragon, for example, Michael
Else’s team interspersed their ‘ready-abouts’ with ‘pass the beers’ and one
team noted that they saw "very little of the beer and wine hamper being off-loaded"
at the end of the day by Marriott. But not all skippers allowed such luxury.
Fairplay’s Mark Langdon, for example, had declared Press Gang to be a dry
boat, and had made it dryer still by pumping out the water tanks to save weight.
Infospectrum had a similar policy – although this may have been a result of
their beer supplies being consumed during and after a barbecue they held the
evening before – and BP’s Franz Janshen provoked talk of mutiny over his decision
to ban intoxicating liquor during the race, slapping down the general protest
with the not unreasonable assertion that "a race boat is not the place for
a democracy!"
Now laughter can be heard from across the motionless fleet as the still air carries even the quietest sound over the water. Samuel Taylor Coleridge probably wrote his Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner after such a day’s sailing as this, having his mariner report that "Day after day, day after day,/ We stuck, nor breath nor motion;/ As idle as a painted ship/ Upon a painted ocean." The lawyers on R-gee Bargee were having similar thoughts and their talk not unnaturally turned to cannibalism "and the points of law that were so fully explored in the celebrated eaten ship’s boy case of R. v. Dudley and Stephens (1884)," said Richard Harvey later.
But what’s this? Wind? It was enough for the lawyers to abandon their plans to draw lots, but it was not from any direction mentioned in this morning’s forecast. This is more like a north westerly or even westerly, and One Source seems well placed if this hardens up. But The Young Baltic crew look well out of contention, something that team member Hugo Dyer confirmed later. "Having got briefly to first position, we were in grave danger of coming last," he wrote in his log of the day.
But where is the next mark? Judging from the various directions that the boats are now pointing, it could be anywhere. In fact, it was nowhere. If there was to be any chance of fitting in a second race, there was no hope of completing the planned rotation, so a new finishing line was laid not far from where we all started, and the race was on again. But not everyone knew where the line was. The radio channel being used for race communications was the same as that used for some local ship operations, and one crew had turned their radio down "to avoid the interminable discussions on the discharge of some caravans from a ship in Southampton," they confessed.
The calm spell has had a curious effect on the fleet. The leaders don’t seem so well placed in these new conditions and their spinnakers come down, as the direction home has now become a close reach. Indeed, because of the wind shift, some boats never got to hoist their spinnakers at all. One of those was BP’s Crude Power, whose crew had spent the morning practising their spinnaker gybing. The drifters – now mostly round the first, and last, mark – are closing the gap and some individual battles become apparent. Henderson Boyd Jackson, for example, seem to be perilously close to Blue Water Marine. It was only fast work by the crew that avoided a collision, claimed HBJ over dinner, alleging that the incident had lost both boats a couple of race positions.
And let’s recall the Denholm/Totem incident at the mark, which left Totem floundering in the calm. While the tide had control of the race, their positions had reversed and Denholm found themselves chasing – and passing – Totem in the final stages.
We are in the closing stages now, and three boats seem to be in contention for the winner’s podium as they converge from the diverse points that the wind, tide and tactics have taken them. The Young Baltic sailors have found some new power and seem to be catching Litton Marine’s One Source, who are in turn gaining on Shell’s Alexia.
But then the Isle of Wight ferry St Catherine splits the leading pack and Shell takes the line just 30 seconds ahead of Litton. "For a few tense moments it looked as though we would be overhauled by Litton, but the ferry ruined their momentum," recalled Dave Hill, a crewmember on the victorious Alexia. The Young Baltic claimed third place at the end of a two-hour race that was at times frustrating, at times fascinating but always enjoyable.
Pride in finishing
Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet may be out of the prizes, but there is still
pride at stake. In fourth place came BP’s Crude Power, having made up a number
of places in the second half of the race. "Another 200 m and we may well have
been third," speculated one crewmember, who had particular reason to finish
as quickly as possible. Given the skipper’s ruling on alcohol, "the crew was
very thirsty," he said.
The Press Gang have not achieved their win (we hope the job-hunting’s going OK, guys), but they can still show the rest how to impress. The final leg home was far from a run, but Mark Langdon had his crew hoist the spinnaker for one exhilarating win-or-bust lunge for the line. It gained them a number of places as they stormed home making six knots, though their course had taken them on completely the opposite side of No-man’s Land fort from the rest of the fleet. The picture on page 12 hardly does justice to their finish, says one of the gang. "There was spray everywhere." Just ahead of Press Gang was Stentex’ No 2 boat, Well Oiled, its eighth place being credited, at least in part, to the lightness of the crew, the lightness of touch of the skipper "and the air of competence, albeit misplaced, of the crew."
An impressive end, but too much time had been lost during the race to fit in a second event, a decision that was greeted on Alexia with as much cheering as had been their original win; with no second race, no one could wrest their honour away from them.
The Litton team was clearly disappointed, arguing later that the race could have been extended by another few minutes. "Another 600 yards would have caught them," said one crewmember. Rubbish, said Shell’s Nicola Bonner, crediting her team’s win to the Sunsail skipper’s race strategy. "We weren’t lucky; others were unlucky," she said.
And what of last year’s winners DNV, who managed only 19th this time? "We were too far south when the wind came," said T-C, explaining how he lost all the benefit of his sixth position at the buoy. "We did our best, but it wasn’t enough." And Denholm, which had won for the two years before that? They finished fifth, despite having appointed one crewmember in a surely unique role – director of hindsight – so at least they could be wise after the event. They had gone to the right after the mark, anticipating that there would be some wind in that direction. They were right, but their hindsight director told them too late that it would die away.
Oddly, Marriott also claimed to have been fifth at the mark, yet finished in 22nd and last place. "We would have been 23rd if we hadn’t cheated," said one of its crew. So what went wrong? After rounding the mark, "All went wrong thereafter," crewmember Russell Gardner recalled. Once it was clear they would not win, "a decision was taken to abandon any hope of a prize and earn a place in Fairplay Cup folklore by attempting to lose the race by the biggest margin." Just ahead of them at the finish was Infospectrum, who put their lack of success down to "a radical approach to the race." Despite rounding the mark in the top half of the fleet, they headed west in anticipation of picking up a breeze. It didn’t happen.
With all boats home, all that remained was for the tales to be told and retold over drinks and canapés on the quarter-deck of Warrior, the first iron-clad warship, followed by a dinner – the food " was well above the standard of salt pork and weevily biscuits", reported one crew – and the prize giving on the mess deck below. By the end of the evening, the stories may have been as tall as the Warrior’s masts and their relationship with the truth as unreal as the plastic cannons that dominate the dining area. And Terry the taxi driver? He should concentrate more on his meter and less on his meteorology.