It was 1995 when 8 teams assembled for the first Fairplay Cup regatta, making this year's event the tenth time it has been held. In golfing terms, we have started the back nine and none of the original starters has made the cut.
If any of them had come this year, they would have barely recognised the event. There are more entries, representing a wider cross-section of the industry. It is a more competitive event, with two races instead of the original one; the boats are all identical and the event is organised on Fairplay's behalf by people who know what they are doing.
Most significantly, however, is that the lunch is better. It must be since - for the first time - only one of the logs passed to Fairplay's editor to help compile this rose-tinted review of the day made any mention of either the quantity or quality of the rolls, pies, beer, wine and other groceries that weighed down the boats at the start of the day. Some crew members, it must be said, found that the choppy conditions meant that what went down also came up, but if that meant we were able to give the Solent's fishes a day to remember, then we have done our bit for the environment as well.
Ah yes - food. No Fairplay Cup is complete without its regular eating opportunities and the eve-of-race reception provided the first. Those who had seen the forecast for the following day took the opportunity to lay in a firm foundation of ballast. Although most crews were heading off for filling meals after the briefing, an opportunity for some serious scoffing was not to be missed.
Three newcomers
It may be the tenth Fairplay Cup, but for some teams and for more guests,
this is their first experience. And this year is all about numbers: we're
counting three new entrants, but it might be four or it could be five.
Lloyd's Register Quality Assurance, for example, who claim that it was just coincidence that its team name - A touch of Class - mirrored Lloyd's Register's choice - Coffee House Rules - in being based on a film title.
Wärtsilä UK nearly didn't make it to the burgeoning buffet. As first-timers they can be forgiven for not knowing where it was taking place. They all assembled on time, but in the wrong place. Yet, in just one flash of a speed camera, they made it in time to collect their paperwork and check the boat.
As engineers, they faced two dilemmas: could they cope without an engine and would anyone understand their team name: Common Sail. It was a worry that would haunt them throughout the competition. But they had a winning strategy: they would apply superglue to every other boats' spinnaker zips.
SSY had no time for clever puns. With the no-nonsense name of Team SSY we knew who they were and their attitude to taking part. They would stand or fall as a team.
And what of the other two 'newcomers'? Over the years, the Fairplay Cup has tracked the fortunes of many companies that have taken part as mergers and acquisitions replace old names with new ones. So Total Lubmarine and Stephenson Harwood are both new names on the roster but both have been here before - under their maiden names of Elf and SRT.
And, with a name as bold as Stephenson's Rocket, are the Stephenson Harwood crew laying down the gauntlet by expecting to win? "Not likely", says one of their number as he heads back to the free bar.
Does anyone expect to win? Marriott, for example, the defending champions, were looking for a repeat performance and hoped for good things from their appointed Sunsail skipper. But would he share their enthusiasm? Tomorrow would tell.
Or Dorchester, who won a race - but not the trophy - a couple of years back. And they came to this year's event fresh from winning their class in the Posidonia Cup, which certainly gave them experience of strong winds.
Perhaps V.Ships fancies its chances again but skipper Alan Armstrong chooses his words carefully. "We'll hopefully keep out of trouble. That's your answer," he says. Perhaps he is recalling last year's return to base, during which his boat came to a temporary halt on the mud. Anyone who repeats that trick this year will be in for a long wait as the tide will be falling once the races are over.
Michael Vlasto, operations director for the Royal National Lifeboat Institution, is equally concerned. He is a guest on the Clifford Chance boat and says he can't afford to run aground or hit the shore for fear of the embarrassment of being rescued by his local lifesavers. So it sounds as though 'safety first ' will be the motto on that boat.
Two Bluewater supporter exude confidence that they will win. "Of course," they say, but explain that they won't be sailing themselves. "We're too old and you get wet." What about ILSMart? Do they plan to improve on last year's 21st place? "If we come in the top 20 we'll be happy," said team captain James Phillips. "We're here to have a good time and if we win that will be a bonus."But one of his crew is not so casual. "We're here to win and if we have a good time, that's a bonus," he corrects.
But one crew has the only sure answer to the question "will you be the winners tomorrow?" That crew is van Hall Health and their answer, of course is 'Yes' since they have named themselves The Winners, just in case they fail to achieve that accolade. "We want to improve on last year's second in both races," explained Michael van Hall.
Force four, maybe five
It was Ladies Day at Ascot races and the television weather forecaster was
doing her best to keep her hat on when Fairplay's scribbler switched on his
hotel television at 7am on race day. That was enough to tell him that spray
would be his biggest problem: destined never to sail in the Fairplay Cup,
he looked forward to another day on the inflatable with no facilities but
plenty of running water. The plastic bag he had packed as a last minute afterthought
to keep his notebook dry now seemed an inspired choice of kit. The office
camera would have to take its chances.
But how much wind was out there. Force four? Five? Arriving at the marina too early to be allowed near the breakfast, he had time to assess the scudding clouds and crackling flags and decide that it seemed like a healthy four, making it probably a five out on the water. And the forecast, when it was posted on the noticeboard, confirmed it: Westerly 4-5; visibility: mostly good; sea state: slight to moderate; maximum air temperature: 16C.
There is nothing fancy about the Fairplay Cup breakfast: bacon butties and Danish pastries: a "mountain of cholesterol" as one appreciative reporter described it. One of Wärtsilä's crew was taking no chances and had already loaded a hotel breakfast into his stomach. But then, he'd had to do something with his time, having woken at 5am thanks to the time difference between his Finnish metabolism and reality.
Some said that he'd also been on the phone to the UK's Ministry of Defence to arrange a few submarines to interfere with his rivals; if so his accent must have been confusing, as it was helicopters, not submarines, that made their presence felt later in the morning.
For those skippers who attended the race officer's briefing session, there was some important detail to note. In particular, a change to the list of buoy positions. It was a simple correction: two of the racing buoys had to be swapped round on the diagram issued with the ships papers.
Learning from past mistakes is probably something that LRQA encourages its clients to do and its own post-race analysis offers an example to follow, with this wise counsel: "listen to the briefing carefully, only have one sheet of information to refer to and make sure it's the right one before the start of the race." Needless to say, one of the affected buoys featured in the first race and LRQA were well placed and on course for the other one. One detail from the briefing caught everyone's attention: the channel out of Portsmouth Harbour is narrow, with ships frequently needing much of its width to swing round after leaving their berths. So yachts should keep to the marked small boat channel on the opposite side. It is monitored by CCTV cameras, we were told, and there is a £5,000 fine or three months in jail for those who don¹t use it. Was he joking? No one planned to carry out what could be an expensive experiment to find out.
Six-packs
With that advice tucked at the back of everyone's minds, the most important
task now is to collect all the six-packs of beer and other comestibles and
get out on the water.
There are two types of sailors, Fairplay's man with the camera has noticed over the years. One group will be on board, gear stowed, lifejackets fastened and away before he has managed to snap a team photograph. Others hang about, seeming to tackle preparations in a serial, rather than a parallel, fashion.
Harwich Haven needed a small repair before they could set off. "We realised that the helm was held on by a broken hairpin. We suspected sabotage," its scribe noted. "A mechanic soon provided us with a new hairpin."
Then there is paperwork to complete. "Where's the kin list?" wondered one of Clifford Chance's crew. "No need to be nasty about it," chided a colleague, until it was pointed out that it was the next-of-kin list that had gone astray.
There are advantages in not being last away, as Wärtsilä found. Their side of the berthing pontoon was a lee shore and it took a few willing extra hands to get their boat away. One of those willing hands came from the Baltic Exchange boat, which was waiting for the last of its crew to arrive long after the first boats had cleared off. So, too, was Lloyd's Register, but its missing crewmember was its Sunsail skipper.
Leaving those boats still at the pontoon, the press boat set off in pursuit of the rest of the pack, with the start of the first race only 30 minutes away and with another passenger to collect. He was waiting at Gunwharf Quay, which is accessed only by leaving the small boat channel. Permission is now required for that manoeuvre, which was easily obtained over the radio.
But there was a police boat hanging around which seemed to take an interest in Fairplay's anonymous but clearly high-powered inflatable as it crossed over to the naval dockyard side of the channel. Appearing to shadow the inflatable's moves, it only resumed its station once the passenger had boarded and the small boat had resumed its course. Perhaps we were witnessing Portsmouth's ISPS Code in action.
By the time the press party had reached the committee boat, the ten-minute gun should have been just moments from sounding. Yet there was no course indicated on the side of the boat and yachts were still stooging around, practising their tacks and gybes. But not their spinnaker work - the race officer had decided that the conditions were too severe for them to be deployed. So Wärtsilä's super glue went to waste.
Two or three reefs?
The delay had been to allow the stragglers to make up lost time, which they
did astonishingly quickly in the stiffening breeze. As white crests increasingly
appeared on the waves, force five seemed a better estimate than four, and
two reefs was a common decision across the fleet, although some took in three
while a few kept their full main.
Aboard The Winners, Paul van Hall was taking notes. At just 12 years old, he was the youngest competitor and had a keen eye for detail. "Huge waves came at us," he recalled later. "The wind was horrid with white caps on a lot of the waves." But Americans like that sort of thing: Paul's fellow crewmember Tom Montgomery disappeared below and emerged wearing some Hawaiian shorts. "Surf's up!" was his view of the scene.
Race preparation on some boats was less haphazard than on others. The Harwich Haven crew, for example, only contained "three proper sailors" so getting the sails sorted out "involved a lot of shouting and pointing." By the end of their shakedown cruise, however, they felt fully trained and knew their roles: "One able (ie loud) skipper, four brawny men, one fast agile man and two ladies for decoration." (Sexist? it was one of the decorative ladies who wrote that - Ed).
Fairplay's Prime Movers took a stern line with their Sunsail skipper. With one of Sweden's top sailors on board who claimed responsibility for all racing decisions, roles were allocated to the crew. To his surprise, one guest found it "sort of reassuring to note that in the cut-throat world of yacht racing, both clients and colleagues could be categorised as 'ballast' in the pursuit of victory."
Five legs
At last the delayed ten-minute hooter sounds and the course for the first
race is displayed: a five-legged race.
From the press boat, positioned just on the racing side of the outer mark, the start did not look good. Perhaps because of the strength of the wind, many boats appeared to have timed their final approach too soon, pushing a number over the line for a recall. At the outer end, SSY were so far over that the committee boat must have assumed they were off on a cruise of their own and did not recall them, but they nonetheless turned back for a restart. Oddly, a photograph taken shortly before the start shows SSY to be well in the pack hugging the line. "We weren't big on position today," said one of its crew later.
Among those that were called back was Lloyd's Register, which looked back on its bad luck philosophically. "We were last getting into the race and last getting out, so we got value for money," said one of the crew in the bar later. Marriott was another team that could have started better. "We were pushing everyone away from the line, not realising that we were over the line."
One boat that was called back was V.Ships, a result that must have raised hopes across the fleet. Its crew did not hear the recall until it was repeated and then asked for confirmation, so its return was delayed. But it gave them a chance to reconsider their options. As Alan Armstrong commented later, they had been heading in the same direction as everyone else, on starboard tack off to the left hand side of the course. "But because we were called back we went the other way. Just how fortuitous that was only became apparent later on.
They join five other boats on the inside route, while the other 16 strike out into deeper water, perhaps banking on a stronger wind further offshore overcoming the last of the flood tide; the delayed start was barely half an hour before high water. Most soon tack onto port and make their way inshore to time their final starboard approach to the windward mark.
There is undoubtedly a lot to be said at this point for a suggestion put forward by Wärtsilä in its post-race report. It recommends that next year we "remove those yellow things that lead to all the congestion, shouting and bad temper." For this year, however, we felt that using the buoys made it easier to define the course. But they are right about the congestion, shouting and bad temper.
Take this first windward mark, for example. First round and probably glad to be out of the way was Bluewater Marine. LRQA also nipped round in short order but the next few boats were not so lucky, as Dorchester Maritime muscled in on port tack.
From the press boat, much of the detail was lost on the wind - and the words may have been new to the layman - but V.Ships, now in a remarkable fourth place, were clearly unimpressed by Dorchester's manoeuvre. "He'll say he had room, but he only had room because the guy ahead of us gave him room," was how V.Ships guest Stuart Munro described it later.
And he was right: "There was space between the boats to our starboard and the buoy and we were able to just tack round it," said a Dorchester crewman. "V.Ships were cursing us, but there was room." As for the boat ahead of V.Ships, that was Fairplay's Prime Movers, according to the press boat's unofficial position list. And its log of the day makes no mention of the fracas.
Now disaster strikes on the press boat as Fairplay's chief snapper discovers that his zoom lens has packed up, restricting shots to no better than from a standard lens.
Without Spinnakers, the downwind leg requires some careful strategy. Let the jib lie to port or hold it to starboard? Or fix it with the spinnaker pole? Shake out the reefs or keep them in, to save time if they are needed on the next upwind section?
V.Ships uses its pole and makes impressive ground on the boats ahead, rounding the next mark in the lead, pushing Bluewater and LRQA into second and third, with the trio well ahead of the chasing pack. What happened to Fairplay's Prime Movers has never been made clear, but it fell back to tenth on the downwind leg.
Making an impressive gain, however, was London Offshore Consultants, who recovered from tenth at the first mark to fifth at the second while Stratos Global's Stratos One pulled up two places on the leg to record a sixth position at the downwind mark. Castrol and Total Lubmarine have a close race down wind, with Total emerging the eventual winner of that tussle.
By the third mark, it has become a two-horse race, as V.Ships tacks just ahead of LRQA, with Bluewater dropping another place to third, despite having shaken out its reefs. But then begins the search for the final mark, somewhere beyond the start/finish line. In fact, the direct route took boats across the line but LRQA left the sailing line well to port. Skipper Chris Campbell accepted responsibility for the mistake that took his boat towards the wrong buoy and which he believes gave V.Ships victory. Not only that, but it allowed "Bluewater enough water to push us into third position."
Later finishers also reported close contests, with Harwich Haven finding itself "fighting for every inch" with ILSMart and Castrol. "Unfortunately, we were the ones squeezed out at the end." And that trio were just behind Michael Else & Co, which came in 12th, having recovered from 16th at the first mark and 15th at the third, nearly catching Fairplay's Prime Movers in 11th, despite their third place at the first mark.
And Clifford Chance felt thwarted by the weather, having come armed with a skilled spinnaker handler. Despite being beaten into 20th place by Stratos Global's Stratos Net 2, which came 19th, they had at least avoided having to call out the RNLI to rescue its own directors.
By now, many boats had shaken out their reefs but one that had not was Wärtsilä, which nonetheless finished in fifth place. For that, they were awarded the safe sailing trophy at the awards dinner.
One crew had the decision to stay reefed forced on it: The Baltic Exchange had been shaking reefs out half way through the race but left a sail tie in place. The force of the wind was enough to open a tear in the mainsail and they had to spend the rest of the day with two reefs tied down.
Three-pie lunch
Clifford Chance had been particularly scathing about their lunch allocation
last year, suspecting that seagulls had got to it before they had. This year,
team manager Julian Clark was "initially delighted at the level of rations
available" when he saw it assembled for collection that morning. But then
he had to "watch a group of grown men stuffing a variety of pork pies, sandwiches,
crisps and muffins into places that such items really should not go." It's
probably best not to ask.
On the inflatable, there was work to do before lunch could be enjoyed. In the rush to get away from the pontoon this morning, three crews had left before team photographs could be grabbed, so the search was on to find them. A pair of binoculars would have helped and, even though the photographer's zoom lens had leapt back to life, it was not up to the job of surveying a few square miles of Solent to identify numbers on flapping sails.
Two were found and photographed; the third - Bluewater - eluded capture, the first opportunity not arising until after the ten-minute hooter had sounded for the second race and even Fairplay has the sense to realise that this is no time to ask for a group photo.
Despite this, Fairplay's two staffers and the boat's driver found time to explore the food bags. With three pies per head, not to mention the large filled rolls, crisps, fruit and cake we were not going to go hungry, provided, of course, it did not all blow away. There was some debate in the bar later as to whether the wind had reached force six by this point, at which 'white foam crests are more extensive', the Beaufort scale advises. That is hard to judge. A more practical guide would note at what force cranberries blow off turkey pies, as they did now.
Race two
By now the tide was starting to ebb with gusto and the race officer called
on the radio to warn of its likely impact at the start line. In the event,
it appeared a cleaner start, with no recalls.
But general impressions always mask the detail. Total Lubmarine, found themselves in close proximity to one of the two Fairplay boats which "loomed on top of us" and tried to push the Total boat - quite legally - out of the way. Words were exchanged but "the most surprising element was that members of the Fairplay press should have such a limited and repetitive vocabulary." There were, of course, no editorial staff on the boat, otherwise the range and quality of the verbal jousting would have been considerably more to Total Lubmarine's satisfaction.
Marriott contributed to the less hectic start by not being there. "We were in the right position but too far away," they said in the bar and later credited their late arrival to their over-cautious skipper. Wärtsilä's skipper appeared to like his water and called for as much as possible at every opportunity and "at the most bizarre distances and positions," its log-keeper noticed. "Some of the team wondered whether the rules were developed by the same guy who did the cricket rules and added compulsory shouting." Rest assured, dear Finnish friends; cricket has plenty of compulsory shouting as well.
Not everyone recalls the second start as being a more organised affair. Organised chaos, perhaps. Harwich Haven, for example, recall it as being "an even more highly charged affair than the first start; we felt lucky to survive in one piece." It must be said, however, that they were short handed as one crew member - who also happened to be the boat's scribe - "had to retire below decks to re-examine her breakfast and so missed the start."
This was not the only boat struck down by motion and emotion. Two of ILSMart's five crew were committed fish feeders and one of Total Lubmarine's crew spent much of his time on a bunk, although one of his colleagues uncharitably suggested this was just as possibly "due to the excesses of the night before" as the motion of the boat.
If there is one place where there should be a sophisticated remedy for such problems it must surely be van Hall Health boat. And it was, although the cure was hardly sophisticated: "Dan, our skipper, produced some ginger biscuits, which saved everyone from throwing up," said young Paul van Hall.
Gusting seven? There is no doubt that the wind has increased further during the lunch break so, as the fleet once again splits into two for the windward leg, some find the steep ascent across their boats a strenuous task. More than one plans to bring mountaineering gear next time while Clifford Chance's crew intend to have a full team of specialist mountaineers and sherpas to assist them. Just be careful of those crampons on the gelcoat and don't forget to tick the box on the entry form to order extra yak food.
Whether the wind actually touched seven - as some survivors in the bar clearly intended to tell their loved-ones - or not, the end of the first leg made a thrilling spectacle as Fairplay led at the mark, with V.Ships close behind followed by LOC and Bluewater. Marriott had made up ground during the leg, despite its poor start, with Stratos One also making a good showing at this point.
Once again, the downwind leg proved a testing time without spinnakers. "Other boats rigged a pole to their genoas," noticed Wärtsilä; "we rigged a Finn." He did his best but, "after his arm was nearly ripped out of its socket a few times the skipper relented and we just let the genoa do its own thing and flop around noisily."
By the second mark, Fairplay had dropped two places to lie third behind V.Ships and LOC while, within the fleet, other boats had also made some useful advances. Stephenson's Rocket made some noticeable progress, for example, pulling up a few positions.
The wind had eased a little by now, and some of those who had not yet ripped their sails had shaken their reefs out on the downwind leg. The lull was short-lived, as the breeze freshened again during the next windward leg. For those who tacked soon after rounding the downwind mark, this put them on a course that took them, perhaps somewhat bravely, on port tack across the following pack, who were on starboard and on the gybe.
It was a long tack out to the final windward mark and Fairplay's Press Gang, with no reefs, tacked just ahead of V.Ships, still with reefs in. "We though we had him on the last beat but we hit a big gust and tacked all standing," explained V.Ships later, "and he ended up about two lengths ahead."
So now it came down to a run for the line and Press Gang just held off the challenge. But, with a first and a second place in the two races, it was clear who would be taking the cup home. But the other prize places now hung on how the leading yachts from the first race fared in the second and vice versa.
Fairplay, for example, had managed only ninth in the first place, giving a total of ten points, while Marriott, third across the line after some last minute duelling with LOC and LRQA, had been sixth in the first race, giving a total of nine and edging them ahead.
There was a close battle for the next three places, with three boats seeming to cross the line together. LOC was officially logged as fourth, mirroring its position in the morning and giving it eight points. LRQA added fifth place to its earlier third, again totalling eight points, while Bluewater scored sixth position, although its crew were sure later that they had been leading that trio. With the second position it already had in hand, it was also in contention with eight points.
In the official results provided by Sunsail - reproduced on these pages - these three were separated on the basis of their first race positions, giving second place to Bluewater. A strict reading of the racing rules, however, would have divided them by using the second race, which would have given LOC the overall second prize. But, as the England football team learned to its cost a few days later, the referee's decision is always final and the placings stand.
The trophies may have been decided, but there was still honour to be won elsewhere in the fleet. Total Lubmarine, for example, was chasing rivals Castrol for much of the second race, slowly making up ground while Castrol appeared to be losing a good position: the press boat logged them as 12th and sixth respectively at the end of the downwind leg. Now they raced for the line with two other boats and Total called for water to avoid hitting the committee boat. This gave them just enough advantage to overtake Castrol on the line, they believed once they reached dry land. Sadly not; the race officer listed Castrol as tenth and Total Lubmarine as 11th in his official placings.
Harwich Haven reported a close finishing dash with Michael Else. The east coast experts had already enjoyed a close contest in the first race, when three boats fought over 13th place. On that occasion, Harwich lost out, picking up a 15th. This time, it was 15th position that was up for grabs but Harwich was just pipped at the post by the lawyers.
Dorchester Maritime and Wärtsilä had enjoyed each other's company during the race, with much discussion among the Wärtsilä crew about the other's techniques and whether a speed camera might have been instructive. After dinner there was an "intense discussion" which fortunately ended in "a mutual understanding that the next time would be the judge".
Last home was ILSMart, a position that disappointed its team manager James Phillips. A good start and impressive first leg had all gone to waste at the first mark when a snagged jib sheet tipped the boat "vertical in the water," it seemed. It was, he said, "an incredible few minutes; we needed every ounce of ballast to stop the thing toppling over." But minutes count and they never recovered. The moral? "Winches only go one way."
Eight prizes
Why do companies come to the Fairplay Cup? Not, presumably, to be nearly capsized,
to spend the day feeling ill or to hurl abuse at fellow competitors. It is
to win the cup, a fine cut-glass trophy. There might be some who take a less
competitive approach to the day, for whom the goal is to have an enjoyable
time and, if an award comes their way, to see it as a bonus. Others come keen
and eager, practised and ready. And the event's greatest attraction is that
it can accommodate both. And some go home with unexpected silverware (well,
hardware, anyway).
So when competitors gathered for the race dinner on board the world's largest, fastest and most powerful warship in the world - HMS Warrior was all those things when it was built in 1860 - none knew exactly who would be collecting prizes.
But first, guests had to stand and fidget while Fairplay's managing editor Paul Gunton wittered on. He had, he said, discovered a formula defining how good a joke was. At its heart was the notion that the longer the build-up, the funnier the punchline seems. He had been sorely misled.
Things livened up after that as Richard Silk, joint managing director of Fairplay's parent company Lloyd's Register-Fairplay, took over the microphone and presented the Fairplay Cup to V.Ships, which also scooped a bottle of whisky for winning the first race.
Richard's own boat, Press Gang, also collected a bottle of whisky for winning the second race, a prize that was accepted by guest helmsman Richard Northover of Kelvin Hughes while the second prize - donated some years ago by the Denholm Group - went to Bluewater Marine. Third prize - provided by BP - went to first-time competitors LRQA.
But there were three further prizes: the first boat legally across the start line in the first race always receives the LauritzenCool trophy. This year, it was adjudged to have been the Baltic Exchange Sailing Association, who could also have won an award for being first away at the end of the day and missed the prizegiving.
The other pair of prizes are awarded on a whim by Fairplay's staff. The DNV Safe Sailing Trophy went to Wärtsilä, which was the highest-placed finisher to have been reefed throughout the first race, and the best team name was decided as being Watertight Alibi, under which Clifford Chance was sailing. In fact, chance did not come into it; this is the third time the company has won the accolade, confirming once again that what matters most to a lawyer is to impress the jury with fine words.
Time for two more
With this being the tenth event, Fairplay's directors had dipped into their
pockets and bought a clock, mounted in a wheel, to honour the event's most
successful skipper - Alan Armstrong of V.Ships. But his was not the only clock
to be handed out: ILSMart always raffles a propeller-shaped clock from its
exhibition stands, and the Posidonia exhibition had been no exception. Remarkably,
the lucky winner had been Richard Silk and ILSMart managing director James
Phillips took this opportunity to deliver the merchandise.
And nor was Alan the only person to receive an anniversary memento: as competitors and guests sat down to dinner, they found a crystal glass tankard engraved to mark the tenth event.
So will there be an eleventh? You can count on that.