FOR ALL of us, life is a collection of themes. For some, they link together as an orderly web, with careers, interests and home life making a coherent whole. For Fairplay's editor, they form a tangled mass, from which loose ends wave around, snagging on an idea here or a project there. But, whatever course our lives take, it is those themes that help it all make sense.
And the Fairplay Cup is no different. From each one, a theme has emerged that creates a common bond, a sense of camaraderie, a shared experience that the writer of these reports can latch onto. Sometimes it is the wind. Sometimes it is the lack of it. Last year it was the extravagant predictions of gales made by a local taxi driver with pretensions of being a meteorologist, followed by one of the flattest calms the Solent has ever seen.
So it is always with a sense of expectation that Fairplay's editor arrives in Portsmouth, on the eve of the annual battle of wits that the Fairplay Cup has become. And his battle started early this year, with even checking into the hotel proving impossible. Fortunately, Fairplay's guests did not have that difficulty, though one was shocked to be told that he would be sharing his room with a 'Mr Hughes'. Who? "Mr Kelvin Hughes." Barry Morgan, Kelvin Hughes' marketing services manager, is no doubt still telling that story.
So perhaps that will be this year's theme: mistakes and confusion. It seems a good one as the crews gather in the yacht club at Port Solent on the eve of the race, where our fleet of 21 identical Sunfast 36 yachts are already prepared. Many, naturally, head straight to the bar while the race-briefing buffet lies untouched in a private room down the corridor. It takes a few minutes to prise the stragglers away from the beer pumps but an announcement that not only was there a bar in the other room but that it was free seemed to do the trick.
The room is ideal for a buffet, not so good for photographers. As Fairplay's snapper climbs on a chair to get a shot of the assembled crowd he hears a swishing sound close by his right ear and ducks just in time to avoid being decapitated by the large ceiling fan scything past his head. So he tries a different vantage point, this time cracking his skull on a heavy wooden beam carelessly drawn there by a long-forgotten architect. That 'mistakes' theme is starting to come together.
Had he been able to get his photo it would have showed a growing crowd of new faces: new, because many of the old hands had chosen to skipper their own boats this year and were even then on the pontoons taking charge of their craft and, it was rumoured, tampering with everyone else's. Among them was the Infospectrum crew, who reported later how they had thrown down gauntlets to the crews around them. "Unfortunately, we strained our collective backs picking the gauntlets up," their log of the day reads.
All things new
There is much about this year's event that is new; the buffet, for a start.
So perhaps a better theme will emerge - newness and originality. Let's review
how that shapes up: There are three new teams this year, for a start. Dorchester
Maritime have travelled from the Isle of Man to give the Denholm Group some
competition. "We are out to race, not just sail," they claim. Then there is
Trinity House, persuaded to come by last year's newcomers, Harwich Haven.
Strangely, both have come with the same mission - not to win the cup but to
do better than the other. "Our brief," said one of Trinity House's crew, "is
that if we don't come home ahead of Harwich we don't come home."
Leica Geosystems is also here thanks to the missionary zeal of a previous entrant. Leica's business competitor Litton had been bragging so irritatingly at last year's SMM exhibition about its second place in last year's event that Leica issued a challenge: a keg of Guinness as a side bet in this year's race. Whether it was fear of being beaten that made Litton a non-runner this year is not clear but, as far as Leica is concerned, by not entering Litton has forfeited the wager and should make immediate arrangements to deliver the brew during Europort this autumn.
Then there is Tor-Chr Mathiesen. He is hardly a newcomer, having taken part in all six previous events. What is new is that he is here as a guest of Totem Plus. Having retired from DNV, he is free to act as a consultant to all comers and, with no DNV boat in the race this year, his knowledge of winds and tides was soon snapped up. Yet he was disappointed that no classification society is represented in DNV's place. Perhaps, he suggested, IACS might take a boat next year. "But which societies would share it?" wondered one of those joining the conversation.
He has also retired from his traditional pre-race briefing, leaving that to Fairplay's Alec Lamont who introduced another new idea: proper rules. In the past, manipulating the results of the two races that form the cup competition to decide the overall winner has relied on somewhat idiosyncratic variations on normal race procedure. So there were cheers when Alec announced that this year "we will apply the 2001 racing rules to the letter." And protests will be allowed, unlike previous years, with the protest committee sitting on the following Wednesday at the other end of the country.
But that's about as far as the 'newness' theme is going to get us, so that won't supply the cement necessary to hold this narrative together. The other extreme from 'newness' is 'tradition', and there were certainly efforts at the evening gathering to evoke memories of past glories. Alec Lamont set the tone by reminding the Marriott team how they had vanished last year, motoring off on a jaunt of their own when the drifting match became stalemate. To much applause, he produced a French courtesy flag for them, in case they decided once again to wander from the fold. But there were no cheers from the Marriott team, who had vanished, off on a jaunt of their own.
But Marriott's crew were taking it seriously, they said later, with their boat "filled with an abundance of seafaring experience and talent - on paper." All of them were master mariners, save for a chief engineer "to make certain that the engine was working as efficiently as it did last time" and a lawyer "whose task was to pour the drinks, keep a log and advise on the finer points of law that might arise."
Shell were back again and, just to make the point, had considered calling their boat Last Year's Winners. Instead, they had stuck with the name that has served them well, Alexia, which recalls one of the company's lubricants. And lubrication had played a part in their preparation, confirmed one team member, who cited "drinking practice" as a key part of their strategy.
BP has a good track record at the Fairplay Cup, with a fourth place last year and a third the year before. So hopes of another third place gave sufficient impetus to their planning. Yet there is no doubting that the team to beat is the Denholm Group, whose fifth place last year spoilt its track record of firsts and seconds. But "we shouldn't be over confident," said Denholm's Alan Armstrong, who confessed to a possible weakness in the team this year: last year's director of hindsight was missing.
Stentex has established a tradition for coming to enjoy the day, yet last year one of its boats managed a creditable eighth place. Team captain Nick de Spon's goal for this year is "to come in double figures," although whether that means second, tenth or anywhere in the second half of the field is not clear. Bluewater Marine came with every intention of improving on their 12th place last year, when their chosen name Fast Water was not quite fast enough. Perhaps this year they would indeed come Out Of The Blue, as their moniker this year suggested.
It has become traditional for the Fairplay Cup to attract an international field, with competitors and guests this year coming from as far away as Israel, Sweden, Cyprus, Canada, the US and Scotland. But no boat in the history of the event can have fielded as international a crew as Leica did this year. There may only have been five of them, but they represented Britain, Sweden, the US, Germany and Denmark. And, as luck would have it, the Sunsail skipper allocated to them was French.
Myths and legends
No tradition is complete without its legends, and last year's drift has generated
its own mythology. The start had been particularly suspect and last year's
report notes an allegation of at least half a dozen boats over the line at
the start. Although that had been contradicted by Sunsail's race manager Clive
Vaughan, memories linger, and this year's urban myth was a definite assertion
that the first four boats round the first mark - a crucial deciding factor
- had all crossed the start line early. "But I'm not bitter about it," said
the storyteller who, needless to say, had not been in that leading group.
That was not the only memory lapse, if Trinity House's comments are to be believed. They were afraid that they might have let themselves in for more than they bargained for "and these fears became founded when our novices found the bar full of last year's contenders vigorously reliving last year's epic voyages with terror-filling yarns." The only terror Fairplay can recall was on the boats on which skippers had banned alcohol during the race: with no wind, would they ever taste beer again?
But one tradition seemed strangely absent: the weather was not a major topic of conversation that evening. Force 3-4 winds seemed likely, with the possibility of rain. On that basis, good sailing weather seemed certain. And so it continued to seem as Fairplay's editor threw back his curtain at the yacht club, where suitable accommodation had been found after the embarrassment at the hotel. There was a light breeze, but one that was strong enough to dampen an early morning stroll with the spray, and the refreshing aroma of seaweed, from a nearby pressure-washed hull.
It was a stroll intended to clear the editorial brain and identify the day's theme. And so it did - 'timing'. This year's event would differ from previous competitions by scheduling the first race before lunch, making it crucial that guests were on time all the time. Breakfast would be at 0800. Sharp. The skippers' briefing would be at 0830. Sharp. The first race would be at 1130. Sharp. The second at 1400. Sharp. Reception at 1800. Sharp. Awards at 1900. Sharp. Dinner at 1930. Sharp. Yes, 'timing' would link everything together very nicely.
As the strolling editor returned to the clubhouse, his watch read 0757. Spot on for a punctual breakfast. Except that there was a knot of people waiting at the foot of the stairs to the restaurant, held back by a receptionist who knew that 0757 was not 0800. She was unmoved by a promise to walk up very slowly and so, as the witching hour turned, there was a surge up the stairs. But it was a small surge; one of the busses circling the hotels was late. The timing was out already.
Yet it was vital to keep to schedule, so the skippers' briefing started downstairs while others were still arriving for their breakfast of bacon butties and Danish pastries upstairs. Race officer Clive Vaughan ran through the starting procedure - hooters at ten-minute, five-minute, one-minute and start - and the crucial ruling that "it is up to you to decide if you were over the line." But it will be a difficult line for him to lay, given the complicated forecast: the morning would be bright with variable winds, mainly SE-SW Force 2-4, backing to East 4 or 5 during an overcast afternoon before veering again to S-SW 3-4 later.
Time and tide don't wait
We are back on schedule and the 'timing' theme is shaping up nicely. Low water
will be at 1100, a detail that Dorchester Maritime are surely aware of as
they are second, behind Harwich Haven, away from the pontoon. Harwich credited
their prompt start to the fact that they had spent the previous night on board
their boat (and others, if their race log is to be believed) while other crews,
"probably softened from their luxurious night in hotels ashore, hadn't got
the hang of the gear and equipment aboard these ships: the engines, the sails
and the pully-hauly things."
As first timers, Dorchester might have been wise to watch a few more old hands make their exits first; that way they could have avoided discovering for themselves how close the shallow water is to the pontoons. With at least an hour of tide still to fall, their skipper made the brave decision to calibrate his echo-sounder (in accordance with Dorchester's ISO 9002 procedures, they pointed out later) and to test the main engine in reverse - a USCG requirement. It also tested the crew's reaction time as they rushed to the stern to ease the boat free, while Fairplay's cameraman was still clambering over moored boats to get his picture.
There is still much to be done on some other boats if they are to be out of Portsmouth harbour and up to the start line in time for the first race. Time enough, however, for the Marriott crew to be overheard trying to bribe Infospectrum's skipper into coming last. A glance at the results table suggests that the proffered bribe was either successful or unnecessary.
Fairplay freebie Rugby shirts, food, waterproofs, boxes of drink - all were stowed and the yachts set off. A bit more time would have been useful on some boats: a box of soft drinks remained unclaimed and Sinclair Roche and Temperley thrust some of their pre-departure paperwork at the press boat as it sped past. This was immediately taken ashore, which was a shame, since it meant that when SRT discovered that they had also handed over their location diagram for the race buoys it was too late to get it back.
Maybe that suggests a theme for the event - 'organisation'. The organisation needed to set the event up, for all the teams to find their members, to get everyone on the boats with the right paperwork and the organisation to lay a good start line.
A line in the sand
Now there's a sore point. Fairplay's faithful scribe can vouch for the conscientious
way in which Clive Vaughan checked the wind time and again as he monitored
his committee boat's position relative to the outer mark, but the variable
winds made it a thankless task. Those who took the trouble to check during
their pre-race manoeuvres had no doubt that the outer end was the favoured
end, with the line as much as 30 degrees out, and that the first mark could
be reached without a tack.
It was clearly going to be a well contested start, and the press boat positioned itself just outside the outer mark, so as to have a good view down the line and to keep clear of all the boats. The Denholm Group can always be relied on to organise a good start so, with just seconds to go, The Global Resource was clearly going to be first across the line.
Unfortunately, there were more seconds left than Denholm knew what to do with and they crossed the line early, just by the mark and right in front of Fairplay's lens. Now, what seemed a quiet spot in nobody's way became the very water that Denholm needed to take a quick turn round the end of the line and re-start. It forced them into a longer turn; "I believe I may have uttered some loudish oaths," recalled helmsman Alan Armstrong later. Indeed you did, Alan.
There is a prize awarded for the first boat legally across the start line but, with the whole field of vision filled by Denholm it was impossible to see from the press boat. What did become clear, as the confusion subsided, was that newcomers Trinity House were in the lead with - can this be true? - Fairplay's No 2 boat, Prime Mover, in second place. This is unheard of. As host, surely Fairplay's managing director Richard Silk, on board Prime Mover, knows better than to leave his customers in his wake?
Trinity House credited their good fortune to an engine failure soon after leaving Portsmouth, forcing skipper Peter Melson to tack out of Portsmouth Harbour and thus gain valuable experience of his boat. As one wag on the boat had commented at the time, "if Nelson could do it, Melson could do it." Bluewater Marine was third away, but all the first timers had impressive starts. In fourth place in the early stages was Leica Geosystems, with Dorchester Maritime in fifth.
Castrol might wonder whether, in hindsight, their starting strategy was ideal. They admitted later that the absences of its skipper and navigator from previous events were keenly felt, yet they had set out to improve on their past performances. To achieve this they adopted a cunning plan: "following everyone else until the last second to determine the route and course and then overtake." Easy.
Lauritzen Cool, the successor to Fairplay Cup regulars Cool Carriers, were also bemoaning their lack of previous personnel. Team manager Svante Hellberg blamed the organisational pressures that the merger is causing for there being only four crew in his team, and they seemed to adopt a similar strategy to Castrol, but with one key difference: they made it work. From what remains of Fairplay's notes of the early stages of the race, it is clear that, in the early stages, Joe Cool was well out of the leading pack, yet its crew coaxed it into a respectable finishing position.
As a theme, 'organisation' had some value until the first mark; nothing that happened there can be described as 'organised'. We can ignore the leaders for a little while, and consider what happened when Denholm, keen to make up ground, arrived at the mark at the same time as BP and Lauritzen Cool. From the press boat - as before, positioned on what appeared to be the out-of-the-way side of the course - the sky was once again full of hulls, sails and oaths. Only Denholm's account of the incident survives, as seen from the middle of the three-boat sandwich. "We swung wide so as to get to weather of the inside boat," recalls Armstrong. Unfortunately, the hinged tiller he was holding chose that moment to flip upwards, making it almost impossible to steer. "We very nearly hit the mark and the outside boat, which had been attempting to do to us what we were attempting to do to the inside boat - to be to weather once round the mark."
BP, on the outside, had no rights of water and were forced onto the wrong side of the mark while Denholm's fortuitous manoeuvre put it on a collision course with the press inflatable. As its outboard gurgled into hard astern, water poured over the transom while Denholm's bow wave sloshed in forward. Fairplay's editor had wet feet and a soggy notebook for the rest of the day and in the confusion missed whatever it was that prompted so much mirth on the Denholm boat.
Leisurely progress
Towards the back of the fleet, Fairplay's No 1 boat, Press Gang, was finding
its way, later describing its progress to the first mark as "leisurely" while
Infospectrum - whose report is adamant in claiming to be second at the start
of the first race - blamed a torn genoa for its disappointing performance.
Shell - unable to repeat last year's triumph - reported "hesitant decision
making to rig the spinnaker, which lost us valuable time and ground."
Stentex' No 1 boat, Avast Behind, treated the first race as a shakedown cruise "while people found their place, or were told it, and checked out the beer," their log reports. Crewmembers on their fellow competitor, Abnormal Deviation, "decided early on that a spinnaker was something that you kept in a bag down below" while "the strident call of mobile phones was drowned out by the muffled curses of our skipper surveying the rapidly disappearing sterns of the opposition." Those onboard Michael Else's boat Sextant blamed not only the trill of mobile phones but also their misplaced expectations of one crewmember's sailing experience, gained in the Fastnet and other such events. "He then informed us that one of his primary duties had been that of cook."
So perhaps a suitable theme for this account would be 'expectations'. It could explore each crew's expectations before, during and after the race. Comments on who they thought would beat them, and who they thought they would beat could create opportunities to compare and contrast their attitudes and aspirations. That might work.
Who expected to win the first race, for example? Was it any of the three leaders at the final mark: Trinity House, Fairplay and Bluewater, in that order? With the inflatable now relying entirely on the buoyancy in its sides to stay afloat, there was no option but to leave the race for a few minutes to bring it onto the plane and get the self bailer into action. So it was only as the race came to an end that it became clear that something unexpected had happened, that Bluewater had come from Out Of The Blue to take line honours while Fairplay had held its second place and Trinity House had fallen back to third.
Since everyone had been given a Rugby shirt at the start of the day, it might be pertinent to recall how that worthy game came about. A plaque on the field where it was first played credits schoolboy William Webb Ellis with showing "a fine disregard for the rules of football" when he first picked up the ball and ran with it. Bluewater might claim something similar for their success in the first race, since their foredeck crew, without consulting anyone else on board, hoisted their spinnaker like a huge genoa. Although their skipper "very politely instructed the foredeck to refrain from their little jokes," the boat's log notes, it nonetheless gave them their third place at the final mark, setting them up for a successful tacking duel on the home leg.
Lunchtime expectations are always high on the Fairplay Cup, not least because there is never any shortage of drink to go with the sandwiches and other groceries. This year, the drink situation was more critical than in the past: some found there was little water in their boat's tanks, though whether this was sabotage by those who had overnighted on board was not clear. No such doubts on Harwich Haven's boat. "The master had decided to flush through the bilge to get rid of a smell from the lavatory," notes its log taker, and "due to some mischance or incompetence in the engineering side all the water went."
So soft drinks became as important as the beer stocks on many boats, yet one crew had not loaded its quota, giving the committee boat an extra box. A general radio message soon had it delivered to its rightful home but those lunching on the committee boat then discovered that they had no beer pack. They waited in vain for a corresponding general call from whichever boat was in possession of double rations.
Expect the unexpected So far, the day had been an ideal sailing day: "a pleasant breeze and undemanding seas," as one boat's report described the conditions. But race manager Clive Vaughan was concerned about clouds gathering in the distance and decided to call the second race 15 minutes early. That's an easy thing to do, but it soon became clear that not everyone had heard the call. Expect the unexpected should be every sailor's motto.
Richards Butler, for example, on the wonderfully named R B Blowed, had made a lunchtime excursion to inspect the aircraft carrier USS Enterprise, anchored a little way down the Solent. Their "No 2 navigator was uncharacteristically confident that we would not be back in time for the start of the second race. He was right, but for the wrong reasons," their account of the day recalls. With just two minutes to spare "the true position dawned and with unaccustomed application, the No 1 genoa was brought up from below, hanked on, set and we made a creditable start."
Unfortunately, "our cockpit crew saw the need to achieve prompt acceleration and, having a good grounding in Newtonian physics, successively ejected our winch handles astern, thus prompting an equal and opposite reaction of more than one kind." This is not a new experience, either for Fairplay Cup sailors - who have noted in the past that a key learning experience was the discovery that winch handles do not float - or for Sunsail, for whom handles must be a bulk order item. But no more, for these handles floated and were recovered by the Sunsail inflatable.
Young Baltic also lost track of some vital minutes, facing them with "another monumental climb up the fleet," and Marriott's Passing Wind was another that missed the unexpected programme change, blaming the radio. It was by good fortune that they tootled over to the committee boat to check the course just as a hooter sounded, which they presumed was the ten-minute gun. In fact, it was the five, so when the start signal was sounded "we were nowhere near the line."
Had they been, they would have witnessed another controversial start. Keen to continue their winning streak, Bluewater crossed the line first, but before the start signal. "Either the timekeeper's watch was out or we were slightly over-eager," they assumed. Fairplay's editor did not notice them re-start, leading to some ribald remarks at their expense during the jollifications later, but the crew's report makes it clear that they did take their penalty and "we started in the middle of the fleet with much work to do."
By the first mark, they had climbed back to sixth place behind - as much to their own surprise as anyone else's - Stentex' No 1 boat: Avast, but not Behind. "It was the time to show magnanimity," says Stentex' report, "particularly to those who had worked hard and trained rigorously all year." So they set about throwing away their lead, by putting "a thoroughly professional-looking twist in the spinnaker." Soon, "we were able to take our rightful place among the also-rans while the professionals and their hired ringers stole a march."
Fairplay was also making a good showing again, with both its boats up with the leaders at the first mark. Prime Mover was second round, with Press Gang only a few boats behind. So impressed were the Press Gang with their performance that their log-taker made a note of the time: 1355. "By 1356 it had all gone horribly wrong," her notes continue. A poor tack did not help but then "as we attempted to put up the spinnaker, the pole snapped and fell to the foredeck." That rather wrapped things up for them and they slowly lost ground, finishing in "a lamentable and highly undeserved," 20th place.
So perhaps 'frustration' might make a better theme than 'expectation'. There would be the frustration felt by those who found the first leg could have been better arranged. Of those who did not have enough water - either inside the boat or around them at the marks. Of those who found that hour-glass spinnakers did not draw as well as they hoped. There might be something in this theme.
Infospectrum, pleased with an impressive start, were certainly frustrated by their performance, as they saw things fall apart on the first leg, lying "a nightmarish sixth from last at the first buoy." A poor spinnaker hoist and a spinnaker gybe that is "best forgotten," saw them fall back to second from last. But they saw something positive even in that and "we were on a roll."
That renewed enthusiasm spurred their determination "to at least get to within mooning distance of the Marriott boat," which was four places ahead at the time. Some nifty spinnaker work overhauled two boats and they closed on their target until the last mark when Marriott struck off on port tack while Infospectrum chose starboard. The two crews covered each other's tacks but it was Marriott that cut the line first with, as far as Infospectrum could see, "the boat's cabin boy making strange gesticulations on the foredeck - perhaps it was an ancient form of semaphore."
Trinity House was another team that found the race beyond the first mark more difficult. Despite a good start, their earlier engine problems meant that they were "dogged by the weight of the virtually full fuel tank" [that's a new excuse - Ed], yet they managed to hold third place at the last mark and finish sixth; surely a good result for a team that considered itself to be novices.
After their late start, the Young Baltic made good progress through the fleet on the first two legs, finding themselves in mid fleet at the bottom mark. While their sailing skills no doubt contributed, "this could also have been due to the consumption of every bit of booze stashed below, leaving us with the draught of a skiff and the freeboard of a Panamax." Maybe, but only if the booze had been - how should we put it? - pumped overboard afterwards.
Final legs, final standings
It was the final two legs that made a crucial difference not only to the places
for the second race, but for the overall competition and Bluewater, despite
their re-start, had clawed their way back into contention and now lay second.
With first place in the first race already in the bag, its crew reviewed their
surrounding competitors with an eye on their overall position.
Denholm, in front, for example, had come sixth in the first race, so Bluewater would beat them provided they came at least fifth. Of more concern was the boat behind, Fairplay's Prime Mover, which had secured second position in the first race. So Bluewater had to come home ahead of them and tried a tactical gybe. Denholm followed suit but the Prime Mover held their course and slowly pulled past. By the time Bluewater reacted it was too late. they gybed back behind Fairplay but did at least hold the inside berth and rounded the final mark in second place again.
So it came down to the final beat home, and Prime Mover simply sailed a better windward course, Bluewater's log-taker lamented, and crossed ahead of them. All was still not lost, however, because that gave Prime Mover two second places. If Bluewater could hold onto third it would be a tie. It was not to be. "Others read the slight wind shifts better than us and, yards from the line, from under our genoa emerged Dorchester Dazzler on port tack to just pip us for third place." The cheer from Prime Mover could be heard across the Solent.
So Dorchester Maritime secured third place; a most remarkable race. Thanks to their lunchtime toasting and back-slapping, celebrating their fourth place in the first race, they were another crew that realised too late that the second race had been brought forward, putting them near the back of the fleet at the start. Their achievement was soured - in their minds - only by the knowledge that they had not repeated their other first race triumph of beating Denholm. On the other hand, "we took pride in the fact that we were not overtaken by a single boat in either race." That's quite a claim.
With the trophy positions secured, it fell to the following fleet to be philosophical. Castrol, for example, had just failed to improve on last year's performance, "but we failed in good company and good humour and enjoyed every minute of it," they said afterwards. Harwich Haven, in mid fleet, realised "from their outrageous grins and smug expressions that the Trinity House lugger had got ahead of us by a neck or two."
Sextant, the Michael Else boat, suffered spinnaker gear problems in the second race, yet "there were no recriminations, just a feeling of a team having worked well together." That remark should ensure that next year's entry can be allocated to the management training budget. Last year's winners, Shell, were unfortunately unable to repeat their success but, "thankful not to be last, we crossed the line in no doubt that, by then, the winners were already toasting themselves at the club house." They certainly were.
Last placed Abnormal Deviation, Stentex' second entry, saw their role as that of rescue boat, explaining that this is why they held station astern of the fleet. One of the crew, at least, was nautical, having the surname Block and tackling any task.
As the final boats find their way back to the Sunsail pontoon, race manager Clive's decision to bring the second race forward finally makes sense, as rain sets in. It was not heavy enough to dampen the enthusiasm with which next year's myths were being forged at the forward end of the gun deck on the Warrior. Some of the stories seemed no more true to life than Warrior's numerous glass fibre cannons, and many found it hard to believe the most significant truth of the evening: that Fairplay had won its own trophy.
Clearly, managing director Richard Silk could not award the prize to himself, so it was received by Martin Brooking of Lloyd's Register, who had helmed Prime Mover to victory. Second prize - Denholm's half-model of the Sunfast 36 yachts we had been racing - went to Bluewater Marine while Denholm went home with the BP trophy for third place.
Svante Hellberg of Lauritzen Cool stepped up to award his dolphin trophy for the first boat legally across the start line, which also went to Bluewater Marine while Richards Butler were well pleased with their bottle of Scotch for the best boat name - R B Blowed.
And so to dinner but, for some, the spirit of competition would not lie down. The Warrior's historian could probably confirm that the old warhorse has seen nothing like the Stentex-organised three-legged race, when the speed at which the ladies' team, on port, tore past the tables was awe-inspiring. The gentlemen, on starboard, were no match and, shortly after rounding the aft mark, found themselves tasting the floor.
Others settled for less adventurous sport, with Shell succeeding - with a late challenge and at their second attempt - in beating Infospectrum in the Zimmer-frame Derby (full rules are available on request). Elsewhere, the flexibility of the seating either side of the long tables sandwiched between the cannons left Trinity House in no doubt that, had there been prizes for the event, they would have returned home with the trampolining trophy.
With still no theme to hang the day's events on, Fairplay's editor retired to the bar for further liquid inspiration. Perhaps that's the theme: fluidity. The problem is that Fairplay won. That was never meant to happen. The sailing conditions were pretty much ideal. That never happens either. Where's the flow between the day's disparate events and experiences? No wonder no common theme has emerged from the day. Let's hope something gels before he sits down to write his account.