If I'm in trouble, I'd as soon call a Kiwi as a cop. Kiwis have a way of getting things done.
If I want to have a good time, bring on the Italians. Those people know how to live.
That sets up a dilemma, but it's up to them to sort it out. Cup down under, Cup in Italy, if either can get through Alinghi. They've both spilled blood to get this far.
(Note: I'm going walkabout, dear reader, and I probably won't be updating until we're racing again.)
Come Friday, June 1, we'll have our Race One of the challengers' final knockout round, and we'll have a serious look at the next challenger for the America's Cup. We won't know for a while, of course, whether that's going to be the Italian boat with the Italian backing and an Aussie at the helm and a Brazilian on tactics . . .
Luna Rossa, ITA 94
Francesco de Angelis, skipper
James Spithill, helmsman
Torben Grael, tactician
Or the Kiwi boat with the Middle East (plus Kiwi) backing and a Kiwi on the helm and an American on tactics . . .
Emirates Team New Zealand
Grant Dalton, bossman
Dean Barker, helmsman and skipper
Terry Hutchinson, tactician
You've got your Italian flash. Even if it's embodied for the moment in a nice, wholesome Aussie boy on the wheel who never says anything colorful, Luna Rossa as a team has the bella figura that appeals to the hot-blooded Mediterranean coast of Europe. In trouncing the supposedly mighty BMW Oracle team in the semifinals, Luna Rossa took the biggest scalp, so far, in America's Cup 32, and by doing the job mostly in the prestart and first cross, Spithill et al set themselves up as quick-draw gladiators. Luna Rossa's Kevlar-clad base has style, molte Italiano, and Valencia is packed with air horn-wielding true believers. If ITA 94 continues to raise its game at the rate that shocked BMW Oracle, and if Spithill strikes fire in the prestart duel, these guys could get through.
Then you've got your Down Under can-do spirit. Every team here has (or had) a mission, but for the Kiwis it's a mission and a half. Team New Zealand is a national institution that suffered a public meltdown in '03 and served up the America's Cup to Alinghi without a proper fight. Skipper Dean Barker had come to the Cup game as understudy to Russell Coutts and was not directly/uniquely responsible for the failures, but he was publicly on the helm and has been living on a knife-edge since. Barker does not have an illustrious string of world championship titles or Olympic medals to argue his case, but he does have the solid backing of Grant Dalton. In Team New Zealand 2007, that's what it takes. New and revived, they've lost some races, but they haven't shown a crack yet. If sheer competence and an over-my-dead-body determination are the key, then Alinghi will be looking at some very beady eyeballs come the America's Cup match.
As ETNZ tactician Terry Hutchinson sees it:
On Luna Rossa vs. ETNZ . . .
The two teams have been racing each other for two years, and we've split our races 50-50. This match will come down to who does the subtle things well.
On defining the subtle things . . .
A lot of our racing with Spain was decided by who got the first lee bow. If you can come off the line on the other guy's hip and live there for two minutes, that's huge. And NZL 92 is pretty happy making lots of tacks, downspeed if need be.
On Torben Grael's loosey goosey covering style . . .
The Luna Rossa guys have been fearless with some of their calls. We're happier with a two length lead; that's our style. Our weather team gives us a heads-up as to whether to aim for a tight race or a loose race.
On the celebrated starting skills of Luna Rossa helmsman James Spithill . . .
It's not smart to put pressure on Dean to win every prestart, and when someone has the upper hand, you don't go for some high-risk maneuver and maybe take a penalty. At that point we're happy following them into the course.
On comparing the boats . . .
I think the score will come down to how we go with them when it's windy, and how they go with us when it's lighter. Their hull shape pushes them that way [toward liking more breeze]. Maybe 10-12 knots versus 14-16. The BMW Oracle guys tell us that Luna Rossa has definitely gotten faster.
Oh yes, BMW Oracle . . .
When you analyze their first-cross percentages from the round robin racing, the numbers aren't as high as you might expect. And comparing ETNZ to Oracle? I think we have a better team chemistry. It's one of those intangibles. You can't put a dollar amount on it. Even in the low times, people are still working as hard as they can. As you get farther into these things, the game becomes risk management, and I don't think we've peaked."
On the outlook . . .
We expect every race to be a nailbiter.
As if I have any nails left—Kimball
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Dickson Resigned, and I Got the T-Shirt
First things first:
The only reason I walked into la casa de la America's Cup was to doubledog confirm that they've taken down the pictures of Russell Coutts and Paul Cayard.
I've been walking past for a long time now, without being drawn in to look at a bank of black and white photographs of recent America's Cup figures. And I heard about the Coutts/Cayard disappearance a while ago, but events were on the move and I can't do everything first and you get the idea. But I was having lunch yesterday along with British scribe Tim Jeffery and Cayard (who would make a great yachting scribe but has a better thing going) and the subject came up and Paul said, "Yeah, they took us down because of the catamaran thing. I mean, they didn't call us up and tell us so, but that's what it's about."
Here is la casa de la America's Cup . . .
By "the catamaran thing" Paul meant the Coutts-Cayard plan to launch a grand prix circuit in big catamarans, presumably at the expense of anybody else's plans to keep growing the America's Cup as a "brand." Here is the main wall in la casa . . .
And there is something missing all right.
That's regatta director Dyer Jones, past commodore of New York Yacht Club, behind the reflecting glass in the image hung on the middle island. And if you look closely elsewhere you can see empty brackets for the hanging of other pictures. But on none of these walls do you find Russell Coutts, three time Cup winner and also the winner of more America's Cup races than anyone in history. For that matter, skipper of the team that won the Cup so that it could come to Valencia. On none of these walls do you find Paul Cayard, skipper of an Italian challenger in 1992, helmsman of an American defender in 1995, skipper of an American challenger in 2000, etc. Once they were here and now they're not.
Petty?
I'm not alone in believing that the America's Cup is bigger than anybody's notion of possession and "branding." For all we know, the people making decisions about what goes up or down at Port America's Cup, Valencia, 2007 are fated to be mere footnotes in somebody's future history of the Cup, which is the history of the sport of yachting, which belongs to all of us. (And if Fish does another edition of An Absorbing Interest I wouldn't want to be the Valencia footnote under the heel of his boot.)
The America's Cup to me is an idea and a tradition as much as it is a piece of silver. It's not anything that could be threatened by a catamaran circuit, unless people manage to reduce it to that. Foolishness like this could be one tiny step in that direction.
Dickson Resigned and I Got the T-Shirt
BMW Oracle called a press conference today, apologizing for bringing us in on an off-day, but I imagine they felt compelled to say something. The gist of it was that CEO/skipper/helmsman Chris Dickson "today offered his resignation, and it was accepted," said the team's business director Russell Green.
The timing is the only part of that development that was ever in question. Dickson took this on as a top-to-bottom administrator, and the America's Cup is a stage upon which you go large or go home. Dickson did both.
The session meanwhile provided an opportunity for Russell Green and operations director Laurent Esquier to respond to rumors that keep popping up (not because of the internet, but the internet sure feeds the process) including:
Has Russell Coutts been at the team base this week? "No."
Is BMW going to sponsor the German team instead, for AC 33? "We have a relationship that goes back six years; BMW's executives were here last weekend, and like us, they are disappointed with the results, but the discussions were good."
Do plans continue for an ACC regatta in San Francisco Bay in September? "As we wind down here, our focus turns to planning for the September regatta. It will be sponsored by Oracle, and we're looking forward to it."
I accepted the freebie shirt they offered, so it's true. Dickson resigned, and I got the t-shirt—Kimball
The only reason I walked into la casa de la America's Cup was to doubledog confirm that they've taken down the pictures of Russell Coutts and Paul Cayard.
I've been walking past for a long time now, without being drawn in to look at a bank of black and white photographs of recent America's Cup figures. And I heard about the Coutts/Cayard disappearance a while ago, but events were on the move and I can't do everything first and you get the idea. But I was having lunch yesterday along with British scribe Tim Jeffery and Cayard (who would make a great yachting scribe but has a better thing going) and the subject came up and Paul said, "Yeah, they took us down because of the catamaran thing. I mean, they didn't call us up and tell us so, but that's what it's about."
Here is la casa de la America's Cup . . .
By "the catamaran thing" Paul meant the Coutts-Cayard plan to launch a grand prix circuit in big catamarans, presumably at the expense of anybody else's plans to keep growing the America's Cup as a "brand." Here is the main wall in la casa . . .
And there is something missing all right.
That's regatta director Dyer Jones, past commodore of New York Yacht Club, behind the reflecting glass in the image hung on the middle island. And if you look closely elsewhere you can see empty brackets for the hanging of other pictures. But on none of these walls do you find Russell Coutts, three time Cup winner and also the winner of more America's Cup races than anyone in history. For that matter, skipper of the team that won the Cup so that it could come to Valencia. On none of these walls do you find Paul Cayard, skipper of an Italian challenger in 1992, helmsman of an American defender in 1995, skipper of an American challenger in 2000, etc. Once they were here and now they're not.
Petty?
I'm not alone in believing that the America's Cup is bigger than anybody's notion of possession and "branding." For all we know, the people making decisions about what goes up or down at Port America's Cup, Valencia, 2007 are fated to be mere footnotes in somebody's future history of the Cup, which is the history of the sport of yachting, which belongs to all of us. (And if Fish does another edition of An Absorbing Interest I wouldn't want to be the Valencia footnote under the heel of his boot.)
The America's Cup to me is an idea and a tradition as much as it is a piece of silver. It's not anything that could be threatened by a catamaran circuit, unless people manage to reduce it to that. Foolishness like this could be one tiny step in that direction.
Dickson Resigned and I Got the T-Shirt
BMW Oracle called a press conference today, apologizing for bringing us in on an off-day, but I imagine they felt compelled to say something. The gist of it was that CEO/skipper/helmsman Chris Dickson "today offered his resignation, and it was accepted," said the team's business director Russell Green.
The timing is the only part of that development that was ever in question. Dickson took this on as a top-to-bottom administrator, and the America's Cup is a stage upon which you go large or go home. Dickson did both.
The session meanwhile provided an opportunity for Russell Green and operations director Laurent Esquier to respond to rumors that keep popping up (not because of the internet, but the internet sure feeds the process) including:
Has Russell Coutts been at the team base this week? "No."
Is BMW going to sponsor the German team instead, for AC 33? "We have a relationship that goes back six years; BMW's executives were here last weekend, and like us, they are disappointed with the results, but the discussions were good."
Do plans continue for an ACC regatta in San Francisco Bay in September? "As we wind down here, our focus turns to planning for the September regatta. It will be sponsored by Oracle, and we're looking forward to it."
I accepted the freebie shirt they offered, so it's true. Dickson resigned, and I got the t-shirt—Kimball
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Team New Zealand gets the job done
Hard to miss the contrast between the Kiwi team and the Spanish team at the end of Race 7. There were the guys on Desafío Español, not exactly jubilant at being eliminated 5-2 in the semifinal round, but walking around the deck shaking hands, exchanging the satisfaction of beating expectations and taking a young team so far. Ahead of them, now officially advanced to the final challenger round, the men of Emirates Team New Zealand were taking it like another day at the office. They're here for the Cup.
New Zealand has a heavily-Kiwi crew, but their tactician is an American, Terry Hutchinson, who commented, "We try to flat-line whether we win or lose. You needn't expect to see us turning cartwheels because we won today. The feeling on the boat was pretty much the same as the feeling two days ago, when we lost. We knew then, and we know now, that we have a big task ahead."
I think I mentioned, they're here for the Cup. And should they get it back, I think we can expect to see a pretty traditional defense in Auckland, whatever events might take place elsewhere in ACC boats.
Chris Cameron/ETNZ
Thanks to a reader here in Valencia, I am corrected on matters relating to the Challenger of Record, which formerly was BMW Oracle. However, with the fall of that team the functions of the office fall to the still-active challenger who was next to enter a challenge, Emirates Team New Zealand. The Protocol, Article 6.2. And whoever wins the final round (and the Louis Vuitton Cup) will go to the America's Cup as the Challenger of Record.
Hutchinson also allowed that maybe the strongest feeling aboard as they wrapped up their semifinal match was "a sense of relief." Everybody's used up. The drawn-out round robins exacted a toll that hasn't worn off. Hutchinson's wisecrack was true enough: "I haven't slept in about six weeks."
The other part of the equation is that Emirates Team New Zealand, while never lacking confidence, never took any step of the semis for granted. The whole world expected the Kiwis to get through the Spanish, as Hutchinson noted, "I think we were the only ones who believed they were going to take races off us."
Chris Cameron/ETNZ
Race 7 was complicated by a swell left over from a strong northeaster (blowing down the coast from Barcelona-way) that prevented racing on Tuesday. The breeze on Wednesday touched 21 knots for a time but was down to 16 at the finish, and I won't find it strange if you find it strange that "the best sailors in the world" struggle a bit to sail their boats in this stuff. It's, um, not exactly a storm. But to understand the why of it you need only get out on an ACC boat, or even near one, to see how powered-up and alive it is even in seven knots. With 80 percent of its 55,000 pounds in the ballast bulb an ACC boat does not feel or behave like most boats. And this is a Version 5 fleet that was designed from the concept forward to be at its best in less wind and sea than we had yesterday on the Mediterranean coast of Spain.
I should add, in this context, that the defender, Alinghi, took out two boats for in-house testing and racing in their separate sailing area. Having witnessed the surprising disintegration of BMW Oracle, they don't want to be next.
Race Seven
Chris Cameron/ETNZ
Karol Jablonski, the Polish helmsman of the Spanish boat, took the fight to Dean Barker and the Kiwis and looked good for most of the prestart, but not the part that counts. The critical late countdown found him locked out of the starboard-tack layline, beyond the committee boat, with the Kiwi boat crowding in, preventing the Spanish from either tacking away or gybing without a foul. It's called control. Barker let the clock wind down until he was well outside the count for a timed run (as long as your opponent is behind you, it doesn't matter how late you start) and made his turn at about 30 seconds. Jablonski had no move available except to wait, then follow. New Zealand crossed the line 17 seconds after the gun with Desafío Español two lengths back.
Inside the course, Desafío Español tacked to escape. New Zealand tacked to cover, and the rest was a formality that took an hour and 19 minutes to complete. Finish line delta: 01:18. Not that it was boring. Oh no. There was the sight'em on the first leg of Desafío Español taking on water and two guys bailing with blue buckets. Great shades of the infamous blue-bucket bailing emergency that signaled the Kiwi meltdown of 2003! Well, it didn't get that bad this time, but you don't want these boats taking on water, changing their stability characteristics, and perhaps launching into a cycle of cascading failure. Before they were halfway up the beat, the Spanish team had the issue under control.
Then, coming to the first mark, New Zealand took a big one over the bow that washed bowman Jeremy Lomas off station, carried him aft along with the mid-bow man and took the pole into the cockpit. Some heavy bandaging on the hand was required to keep Lomas in the game.
NZL 92 has a reputation as a light-air goer, but ESP 97 is definitely in full light-air mode, according to the Spanish team's former coach, Paul Cayard. Both boats held up fine yesterday, and I would imagine that everyone connected to Luna Rossa Challenge was paying close attention. The Italian boat—New Zealand's opponent in the final challenger round starting June 1—has a reputation for liking a bit more breeze than most of this fleet—Kimball
New Zealand has a heavily-Kiwi crew, but their tactician is an American, Terry Hutchinson, who commented, "We try to flat-line whether we win or lose. You needn't expect to see us turning cartwheels because we won today. The feeling on the boat was pretty much the same as the feeling two days ago, when we lost. We knew then, and we know now, that we have a big task ahead."
I think I mentioned, they're here for the Cup. And should they get it back, I think we can expect to see a pretty traditional defense in Auckland, whatever events might take place elsewhere in ACC boats.
Chris Cameron/ETNZ
Thanks to a reader here in Valencia, I am corrected on matters relating to the Challenger of Record, which formerly was BMW Oracle. However, with the fall of that team the functions of the office fall to the still-active challenger who was next to enter a challenge, Emirates Team New Zealand. The Protocol, Article 6.2. And whoever wins the final round (and the Louis Vuitton Cup) will go to the America's Cup as the Challenger of Record.
Hutchinson also allowed that maybe the strongest feeling aboard as they wrapped up their semifinal match was "a sense of relief." Everybody's used up. The drawn-out round robins exacted a toll that hasn't worn off. Hutchinson's wisecrack was true enough: "I haven't slept in about six weeks."
The other part of the equation is that Emirates Team New Zealand, while never lacking confidence, never took any step of the semis for granted. The whole world expected the Kiwis to get through the Spanish, as Hutchinson noted, "I think we were the only ones who believed they were going to take races off us."
Chris Cameron/ETNZ
Race 7 was complicated by a swell left over from a strong northeaster (blowing down the coast from Barcelona-way) that prevented racing on Tuesday. The breeze on Wednesday touched 21 knots for a time but was down to 16 at the finish, and I won't find it strange if you find it strange that "the best sailors in the world" struggle a bit to sail their boats in this stuff. It's, um, not exactly a storm. But to understand the why of it you need only get out on an ACC boat, or even near one, to see how powered-up and alive it is even in seven knots. With 80 percent of its 55,000 pounds in the ballast bulb an ACC boat does not feel or behave like most boats. And this is a Version 5 fleet that was designed from the concept forward to be at its best in less wind and sea than we had yesterday on the Mediterranean coast of Spain.
I should add, in this context, that the defender, Alinghi, took out two boats for in-house testing and racing in their separate sailing area. Having witnessed the surprising disintegration of BMW Oracle, they don't want to be next.
Race Seven
Chris Cameron/ETNZ
Karol Jablonski, the Polish helmsman of the Spanish boat, took the fight to Dean Barker and the Kiwis and looked good for most of the prestart, but not the part that counts. The critical late countdown found him locked out of the starboard-tack layline, beyond the committee boat, with the Kiwi boat crowding in, preventing the Spanish from either tacking away or gybing without a foul. It's called control. Barker let the clock wind down until he was well outside the count for a timed run (as long as your opponent is behind you, it doesn't matter how late you start) and made his turn at about 30 seconds. Jablonski had no move available except to wait, then follow. New Zealand crossed the line 17 seconds after the gun with Desafío Español two lengths back.
Inside the course, Desafío Español tacked to escape. New Zealand tacked to cover, and the rest was a formality that took an hour and 19 minutes to complete. Finish line delta: 01:18. Not that it was boring. Oh no. There was the sight'em on the first leg of Desafío Español taking on water and two guys bailing with blue buckets. Great shades of the infamous blue-bucket bailing emergency that signaled the Kiwi meltdown of 2003! Well, it didn't get that bad this time, but you don't want these boats taking on water, changing their stability characteristics, and perhaps launching into a cycle of cascading failure. Before they were halfway up the beat, the Spanish team had the issue under control.
Then, coming to the first mark, New Zealand took a big one over the bow that washed bowman Jeremy Lomas off station, carried him aft along with the mid-bow man and took the pole into the cockpit. Some heavy bandaging on the hand was required to keep Lomas in the game.
NZL 92 has a reputation as a light-air goer, but ESP 97 is definitely in full light-air mode, according to the Spanish team's former coach, Paul Cayard. Both boats held up fine yesterday, and I would imagine that everyone connected to Luna Rossa Challenge was paying close attention. The Italian boat—New Zealand's opponent in the final challenger round starting June 1—has a reputation for liking a bit more breeze than most of this fleet—Kimball
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Hold Everything
Well, hold your horses, and hold your boats ashore. The wind screamed all night out of the northeast—downcoast, driven by a low pressure system—and the racecourse looks like a lump of lumps. The race committee has hoisted the AP flag over Alpha ashore, indicating there will be no racing today, so the Spanish team will have more time to think about it.
And you know they've thought about it.
Beating New Zealand.
It's not in the script. It can't happen. They're down 2 races to four in a first-to-five and the goal was merely to make the semifinals. Going into Race 7 (eventually) they're already off-script and over-achieving. But they couldn't have come this far unless they could dream about it, eh? Karol Jablonski on the helm, John Cutler on tactics, Luis Doreste as strategist and the core of what is, looking around the deck, a pretty-genuinely Spanish team. Jablonski keeps saying, there's no pressure on us to win; it's all on the Kiwis to not lose.
Me, I'm just here for a story.
On any given day, the odds favor the Kiwis, and anything can happen.
Monday's ADN Valencia gave Desafio Espanol the biggest chunk of real estate on its front page: El Desafio prolonga su sueño. Desafio prolongs the dream. Sounds as if the headline writer isn't exactly expecting them to whip the Kiwis either. But that was one popular Spanish win on Sunday. The day that completed the shocking fall of BMW Oracle at the hands of Luna Rossa.
Yes, "shocking" is the right word. Luna Rossa skipper Francesco de Angelis, helmsman James Spithill, tactician Torben Grael and their international cast of cohorts may have gone into the semifinals confident that they had what it takes to win. But I don't think they expected to achieve a 5-1 drubbing and lead at every open mark of the course. Their expectations of a stronger opponent may even have fed some of the looser-than-loose, play-the-course-and-forget-the-tight-cover tactics of the early races.
So it is worth reviewing two of the questions we asked yesterday.
1) If James Spithill on the helm of Luna Rossa can hand Chris Dickson his tail and dispatch USA-98 in six races, what's in store for Dean Barker and Emirates Team New Zealand?
2) Might the widely presumed, highly touted superiority of the Defender eventually prove as ephemeral as the widely presumed, highly touted superiority of the Challenger of Record?
Rhetorical questions these, until June 1, when we begin to gather empirical data on the final two challengers, and until June 23, when Alinghi and the Challenger answer the guns to decide the future of the America's Cup, once so American, and now so far beyond grasp. We don't have to attribute all of his motive to patriotism (and we won't), but there is no reason to question Oracle oracle Larry Ellison's comment that hearing a chant of USA USA USA from the shoreline, during pre-event racing in Newport, got to him someplace deep inside.
I've been asked, but the answer is no, I don't have any inside dope on whether or not the measurers made USA-98 give up some internal go-fast component. Some people are asking the question because of all those measurer-queries about deflecting keels and the like, but the people who are speculating are the same people who were attributing the same to Alinghi just a few weeks ago. It's a grasping for explanation where, at present, there is none. The only word out of the BMW Oracle camp is unchanged from what we got at the end of Race 6: Luna Rossa got real fast, real quick. Larry Ellison's base is presently locked down in debrief mode, and I'm told that perhaps I can talk to somebody in a few days.
Ellison has said that he is staying with the program, and coming back to challenge again, and there is still an expectation that we will see ACC boats racing in San Francisco Bay in September. When I sat down with United Internet Team Germany boss Michael Scheeren on Saturday, he was disappointed that Oracle has bailed on making an appearance at the Kiel regatta in August—an old decision, not based on the semifinal outcome—but Scheeren was still very much interested in racing in San Francisco. BMW Oracle Racing, meanwhile, remains the Challenger of Record until the events of America's Cup 32 lay that role to rest.
I was saddened but unsurprised that a few people used the defeat to take vindictive jabs at the team or individuals on the team. Guilty of hubris? I reckon. Guilty of being richer than I am? I'm not even in the same star system. But in their overall operations, and individual-to-individual, they were/are a class act.
I think it's important to say these things. I won't be going on and on about BMW Oracle, I'll be moving with the times. But this much is necessary.
Or maybe I'm just bugged that I'm sitting here with an otherwise-viable interview of Bruce Farr and Britton Ward, who led the design development of a perfectly-viable hull, but I'm not sure I have an audience hungry at this point for an analytical breakdown of how they used USA-87 as a test platform—focusing mainly on stability and how that relates to turning, acceleration, and straightline speed—to eventually create a more middle of the road USA-98. My personal hubris was to imagine that, along about now, the interview would be not merely viable, but hot.
So, like, hi. How ya doing, Bruce Nelson? (He's head of a 22-member Luna Rossa design team.) Are you busy for dinner tomorrow night?
Most of the sailors refer to ITA-94 by the sponsor name, Prada, which was also the team name when Prada went all the way to being the challenger in 2000. But 2000 was the year in which New Zealand became the first-ever successful defender from outside the USA. Prada got walloped, 5-0, in the America's Cup match by Russell Coutts et al. In 2003, team boss Patrizio Bertelli threw a lot of money at the problem (does that sound familiar?) but didn't make the finals (does that sound familiar?) against Russell Coutts et al, rebadged as a Swiss team. Now, again, Luna Rossa/Prada is the darling of the moment.
So, no racing on Tuesday, and Wednesday looks iffy. Alinghi has offloaded SUI 75, a 2003 generation boat (not raced in Auckland) that was remoded and raced as a Version 5 boat, very successfully, in 2005/06. The buyer is Sir Keith Mills, who has announced a British challenge for the next time 'round, whenever and wherever that is. He needs the boat for training, and he gets the benefit of recent, if not the latest, ACC technology. Mills is also looking for a second boat for his team—Kimball
And you know they've thought about it.
Beating New Zealand.
It's not in the script. It can't happen. They're down 2 races to four in a first-to-five and the goal was merely to make the semifinals. Going into Race 7 (eventually) they're already off-script and over-achieving. But they couldn't have come this far unless they could dream about it, eh? Karol Jablonski on the helm, John Cutler on tactics, Luis Doreste as strategist and the core of what is, looking around the deck, a pretty-genuinely Spanish team. Jablonski keeps saying, there's no pressure on us to win; it's all on the Kiwis to not lose.
Me, I'm just here for a story.
On any given day, the odds favor the Kiwis, and anything can happen.
Monday's ADN Valencia gave Desafio Espanol the biggest chunk of real estate on its front page: El Desafio prolonga su sueño. Desafio prolongs the dream. Sounds as if the headline writer isn't exactly expecting them to whip the Kiwis either. But that was one popular Spanish win on Sunday. The day that completed the shocking fall of BMW Oracle at the hands of Luna Rossa.
Yes, "shocking" is the right word. Luna Rossa skipper Francesco de Angelis, helmsman James Spithill, tactician Torben Grael and their international cast of cohorts may have gone into the semifinals confident that they had what it takes to win. But I don't think they expected to achieve a 5-1 drubbing and lead at every open mark of the course. Their expectations of a stronger opponent may even have fed some of the looser-than-loose, play-the-course-and-forget-the-tight-cover tactics of the early races.
So it is worth reviewing two of the questions we asked yesterday.
1) If James Spithill on the helm of Luna Rossa can hand Chris Dickson his tail and dispatch USA-98 in six races, what's in store for Dean Barker and Emirates Team New Zealand?
2) Might the widely presumed, highly touted superiority of the Defender eventually prove as ephemeral as the widely presumed, highly touted superiority of the Challenger of Record?
Rhetorical questions these, until June 1, when we begin to gather empirical data on the final two challengers, and until June 23, when Alinghi and the Challenger answer the guns to decide the future of the America's Cup, once so American, and now so far beyond grasp. We don't have to attribute all of his motive to patriotism (and we won't), but there is no reason to question Oracle oracle Larry Ellison's comment that hearing a chant of USA USA USA from the shoreline, during pre-event racing in Newport, got to him someplace deep inside.
I've been asked, but the answer is no, I don't have any inside dope on whether or not the measurers made USA-98 give up some internal go-fast component. Some people are asking the question because of all those measurer-queries about deflecting keels and the like, but the people who are speculating are the same people who were attributing the same to Alinghi just a few weeks ago. It's a grasping for explanation where, at present, there is none. The only word out of the BMW Oracle camp is unchanged from what we got at the end of Race 6: Luna Rossa got real fast, real quick. Larry Ellison's base is presently locked down in debrief mode, and I'm told that perhaps I can talk to somebody in a few days.
Ellison has said that he is staying with the program, and coming back to challenge again, and there is still an expectation that we will see ACC boats racing in San Francisco Bay in September. When I sat down with United Internet Team Germany boss Michael Scheeren on Saturday, he was disappointed that Oracle has bailed on making an appearance at the Kiel regatta in August—an old decision, not based on the semifinal outcome—but Scheeren was still very much interested in racing in San Francisco. BMW Oracle Racing, meanwhile, remains the Challenger of Record until the events of America's Cup 32 lay that role to rest.
I was saddened but unsurprised that a few people used the defeat to take vindictive jabs at the team or individuals on the team. Guilty of hubris? I reckon. Guilty of being richer than I am? I'm not even in the same star system. But in their overall operations, and individual-to-individual, they were/are a class act.
I think it's important to say these things. I won't be going on and on about BMW Oracle, I'll be moving with the times. But this much is necessary.
Or maybe I'm just bugged that I'm sitting here with an otherwise-viable interview of Bruce Farr and Britton Ward, who led the design development of a perfectly-viable hull, but I'm not sure I have an audience hungry at this point for an analytical breakdown of how they used USA-87 as a test platform—focusing mainly on stability and how that relates to turning, acceleration, and straightline speed—to eventually create a more middle of the road USA-98. My personal hubris was to imagine that, along about now, the interview would be not merely viable, but hot.
So, like, hi. How ya doing, Bruce Nelson? (He's head of a 22-member Luna Rossa design team.) Are you busy for dinner tomorrow night?
Most of the sailors refer to ITA-94 by the sponsor name, Prada, which was also the team name when Prada went all the way to being the challenger in 2000. But 2000 was the year in which New Zealand became the first-ever successful defender from outside the USA. Prada got walloped, 5-0, in the America's Cup match by Russell Coutts et al. In 2003, team boss Patrizio Bertelli threw a lot of money at the problem (does that sound familiar?) but didn't make the finals (does that sound familiar?) against Russell Coutts et al, rebadged as a Swiss team. Now, again, Luna Rossa/Prada is the darling of the moment.
So, no racing on Tuesday, and Wednesday looks iffy. Alinghi has offloaded SUI 75, a 2003 generation boat (not raced in Auckland) that was remoded and raced as a Version 5 boat, very successfully, in 2005/06. The buyer is Sir Keith Mills, who has announced a British challenge for the next time 'round, whenever and wherever that is. He needs the boat for training, and he gets the benefit of recent, if not the latest, ACC technology. Mills is also looking for a second boat for his team—Kimball
Sunday, May 20, 2007
5 to 1 by 4 to 2
Three questions scream out in the wake of the semifinal round, Race 6.
1) If James Spithill on the helm of Luna Rossa can hand Chris Dickson his tail and dispatch BMW Oracle in six races, what's in store for Dean Barker and Emirates Team New Zealand?
2) Could the widely assumed, highly touted superiority of the Defender be as ephemeral as the once widely assumed, highly touted superiority of the Challenger of Record?
3) Is ACC the most expensive "one design" class in the world?
THE BODYCOUNT:
Luna Rossa over BMW Oracle by 00:33, five races to one, and done. Luna Rossa advances to the final round of the Louis Vuitton challenger eliminations.
Desafío Español over Emirates Team New Zealand by 00:15, four races to two, and not done. New Zealand goes to the final round, probably, but not until and unless they win one more race.
In the cacophony that followed Luna Rossa's victory, I was surrounded by a sea of excited people speaking in Italian. There were only a few words that I understood, and only two that kept popping up, and they were spoken with a certain relish: "Dean Barker." The Italian fans, I think, have the idea that James Spithill might be able to hand him something. And those air horns are taking over. Until Luna Rossa went up 3-1, it was mainly a sendoff thing. On Sunday there was a din of air horns surrounding the entire passage of Luna Rossa through the Darsena, both ways. These folks had to find a thin spot in the crowd on the far side of the harbor because they had a special project. Quick, what's the only country that had three challengers?
Luna Rossa has raised its game in a dazzling way. The mantra in this game is that you keep improving all the way to the Cup; don't peak too soon. According to Chris Dickson, his most recent opponents improved everything.
It's been exactly 20 years since a US boat first entered a Louis Vuitton Cup final—to select a challenger to go against the defender in Australia—and for the first time in those 20 years, there will be no US boat in the finals that begin here in Valencia on June 1. We expect it to be New Zealand that meets Luna Rossa, but should Desafío Español defy the odds and win through against the Kiwis, the excitement here would go over the top. This is the Spanish team meeting the public after its 15-second win over New Zealand on Sunday. Monday is an offday, and the champagne was flying . . .
It's not hard to imagine rearranging a few events here, a few points there, and then USA-98 wins the round robin racing, chooses Desafío Español as its opponent, and things go pretty much as they're actually going, with USA-98 substituted for NZL-92 and the press still speculating about all that magic that Oracle might be holding back.
Instead we had one of those minor firsts on Sunday, with BMW Oracle and Desafío Español each going out early to practice prestarts against the other on a line set for the purpose. Maybe it helped the Spanish team.
And then--
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle
Sten Mohr was sent in to replace Chris Dickson on the helm, but there was no new look to the prestart dance. James Spithill chased Mohr around inside the box, secured the left-end start that he was looking for, and started at the pin, on starboard, with speed, while Mohr luffed to clear the committee boat on port. Luna Rossa tacked to cover, got the first shift, and did everything right from that point on.
Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Desafío Español vs. Emirates Team New Zealand
This prestart was a tougher read. It looked to me as if Dean Barker (and tactician Terry Hutchinson) wanted the left and were in position to force Karol Jablonski, helming the Spanish boat (with John Cutler on tactics), to get off the top of him and leave New Zealand with a clean, starboard-tack start. Instead, after Jablonski tacked, Barker followed and appeared to fall into a spot that he couldn't live with. He was slow, and tacked, and with that paid a price that may well have made the difference when the two boats came together up the course. Jablonski was in control and ahead early in the first leg and stayed there all the way around the track.
Ponderables
Alinghi has never looked anything but strong, but the same was true (once) of BMW Oracle. In six races, Oracle did not lead around a single open mark of the course. Could a challenger maintain the same sort of momentum that Luna Rossa has shown—and storm Alinghi?
The ACC rule has been jiggered to tighten the box (it´s not really one design, of course), with the result that even teams on a limited budget—helped by the reality check of an occasional pre-event—are producing fast boats. There are so-called one-design fleets that aren't this close. Umpteen millions of dollars deep into R&D, somebody calls the wrong side of a shift, or one component breaks, and it's the nail that lost the shoe that lost the horse . . .
BMW Oracle had the best of everything. Even Henri Lloyd's R&D for the team clothing was trickle-down quality, with different designs and fabrics for different specialties aboard—just one example among many.
In 2003, Larry Ellison's Oracle campaign was riven with tension, dissension, and skipper firings, but Oracle made it to the challenger finals before going down to Alinghi, which went on to win the America's Cup and bring it to Valencia. For 2007, Ellison put Dickson in charge of his program top to bottom, as CEO, skipper, and helmsman making even granular decisions. It seemed to be working, until it wasn't, and BMW Oracle came up short in the semis. Contrast: Francesco de Angelis, Luna Rossa skipper, started out driving the boat and then decided to separate the functions and delegate the driving. His next (likely) rival is Team New Zealand, where team boss Grant Dalton never was the driver, but as a floater in the crew has the same sort of big-picture overview, combining shoreside and on-deck responsibilities without trying to be everything.
Was it right to bounce Dickson off the helm for Sten Mohr in what turned out to be the final race? Oracle lost anyway, so Ellison could be criticized for that decision. But if Dickson had kept the helm and lost, Ellison would have been criticized for freezing like a deer in the headlights. When you're losing, you can't win.
In 2003, James Spithill was part of the hapless One World campaign put out by Oracle. What goes around comes around.
Twenty years after Chris Dickson arrived on the America's Cup scene as New Zealand's wonderboy, he has yet to win the Cup, and he goes down on the sword of the new Aussie wonderboy, James Spithill. But I bet it's been one hell of a ride. The history of the America's Cup is the history of sailboat racing, and it is populated exclusively by people who dare. Shrinking violets need not apply. It couldn't have been easy for Dickson to meet the press after Race 6, but he knew what to do: Start by congratulating Francesco and James for daring and succeeding. Thus far. We're still a full month away from the America's Cup match. And there are more people who want the Cup than can have it.
Quote Unquote James Spithill
On staying in Valencia last winter while BMW Oracle and Emirates Team New Zealand two-boat tested in Auckland, and Alinghi did the same in Dubai . . .
As it turned out it was a good decision to stay here. The weather was good, and we accomplished our goals.
On making big strides . . .
A lot of credit goes to the guys who are sailing ITA-86. We've been fortunate to be able to put two good teams on the water, and they've pushed us hard in our training.
On the Race 6 start . . .
Torben was liking the right, but the pin was a bit forward and you have to like that. Then the guys started to see some stuff [up the course] on the left, and we made our decision to go for it.
On combining tight and only-slightly-loose cover in Race 6 . . .
In Race 2 [passed in the last few lengths to the finish] we learnt our lesson. No matter how big the lead was, the boys kept focus.
Quote Unquote Chris Dickson
On being replaced on the helm . . .
That was Larry's call. It's his call to make. And you have to give credit to Sten Mohr for stepping up. We call it a ‘hospital pass’ in rugby. It's when the ball is coming your way and you know you’re going to get hammered.
On watching the wheels come off . . .
We're a strong team with huge depth. We don't have any glaring weaknesses, but we got outclassed in a number of areas. Every America's Cup cycle is different, and what is needed to win is different. This wasn't determined by any one thing. Luna Rossa has improved upwind and downwind. They've improved their sails, crew work, windshift calls. A month ago you might have said that we had the competitive edge. Luna Rossa has grown.
On the future . . .
Larry is committed to continuing with the program. Me, I'll probably take the family to Disneyland on the way home.
Hey Roy--why don't you see that Chris and family get a discount. Tell the girl at the gate that he looks like this, but he probably won't be dressed the way he is in this shot by our friend Gilles Martin-Raget.
No racing on Monday. Spain meets New Zealand on Tuesday to see if Desafío Español can stay alive alive alive—Kimball
1) If James Spithill on the helm of Luna Rossa can hand Chris Dickson his tail and dispatch BMW Oracle in six races, what's in store for Dean Barker and Emirates Team New Zealand?
2) Could the widely assumed, highly touted superiority of the Defender be as ephemeral as the once widely assumed, highly touted superiority of the Challenger of Record?
3) Is ACC the most expensive "one design" class in the world?
THE BODYCOUNT:
Luna Rossa over BMW Oracle by 00:33, five races to one, and done. Luna Rossa advances to the final round of the Louis Vuitton challenger eliminations.
Desafío Español over Emirates Team New Zealand by 00:15, four races to two, and not done. New Zealand goes to the final round, probably, but not until and unless they win one more race.
In the cacophony that followed Luna Rossa's victory, I was surrounded by a sea of excited people speaking in Italian. There were only a few words that I understood, and only two that kept popping up, and they were spoken with a certain relish: "Dean Barker." The Italian fans, I think, have the idea that James Spithill might be able to hand him something. And those air horns are taking over. Until Luna Rossa went up 3-1, it was mainly a sendoff thing. On Sunday there was a din of air horns surrounding the entire passage of Luna Rossa through the Darsena, both ways. These folks had to find a thin spot in the crowd on the far side of the harbor because they had a special project. Quick, what's the only country that had three challengers?
Luna Rossa has raised its game in a dazzling way. The mantra in this game is that you keep improving all the way to the Cup; don't peak too soon. According to Chris Dickson, his most recent opponents improved everything.
It's been exactly 20 years since a US boat first entered a Louis Vuitton Cup final—to select a challenger to go against the defender in Australia—and for the first time in those 20 years, there will be no US boat in the finals that begin here in Valencia on June 1. We expect it to be New Zealand that meets Luna Rossa, but should Desafío Español defy the odds and win through against the Kiwis, the excitement here would go over the top. This is the Spanish team meeting the public after its 15-second win over New Zealand on Sunday. Monday is an offday, and the champagne was flying . . .
It's not hard to imagine rearranging a few events here, a few points there, and then USA-98 wins the round robin racing, chooses Desafío Español as its opponent, and things go pretty much as they're actually going, with USA-98 substituted for NZL-92 and the press still speculating about all that magic that Oracle might be holding back.
Instead we had one of those minor firsts on Sunday, with BMW Oracle and Desafío Español each going out early to practice prestarts against the other on a line set for the purpose. Maybe it helped the Spanish team.
And then--
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle
Sten Mohr was sent in to replace Chris Dickson on the helm, but there was no new look to the prestart dance. James Spithill chased Mohr around inside the box, secured the left-end start that he was looking for, and started at the pin, on starboard, with speed, while Mohr luffed to clear the committee boat on port. Luna Rossa tacked to cover, got the first shift, and did everything right from that point on.
Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Desafío Español vs. Emirates Team New Zealand
This prestart was a tougher read. It looked to me as if Dean Barker (and tactician Terry Hutchinson) wanted the left and were in position to force Karol Jablonski, helming the Spanish boat (with John Cutler on tactics), to get off the top of him and leave New Zealand with a clean, starboard-tack start. Instead, after Jablonski tacked, Barker followed and appeared to fall into a spot that he couldn't live with. He was slow, and tacked, and with that paid a price that may well have made the difference when the two boats came together up the course. Jablonski was in control and ahead early in the first leg and stayed there all the way around the track.
Ponderables
Alinghi has never looked anything but strong, but the same was true (once) of BMW Oracle. In six races, Oracle did not lead around a single open mark of the course. Could a challenger maintain the same sort of momentum that Luna Rossa has shown—and storm Alinghi?
The ACC rule has been jiggered to tighten the box (it´s not really one design, of course), with the result that even teams on a limited budget—helped by the reality check of an occasional pre-event—are producing fast boats. There are so-called one-design fleets that aren't this close. Umpteen millions of dollars deep into R&D, somebody calls the wrong side of a shift, or one component breaks, and it's the nail that lost the shoe that lost the horse . . .
BMW Oracle had the best of everything. Even Henri Lloyd's R&D for the team clothing was trickle-down quality, with different designs and fabrics for different specialties aboard—just one example among many.
In 2003, Larry Ellison's Oracle campaign was riven with tension, dissension, and skipper firings, but Oracle made it to the challenger finals before going down to Alinghi, which went on to win the America's Cup and bring it to Valencia. For 2007, Ellison put Dickson in charge of his program top to bottom, as CEO, skipper, and helmsman making even granular decisions. It seemed to be working, until it wasn't, and BMW Oracle came up short in the semis. Contrast: Francesco de Angelis, Luna Rossa skipper, started out driving the boat and then decided to separate the functions and delegate the driving. His next (likely) rival is Team New Zealand, where team boss Grant Dalton never was the driver, but as a floater in the crew has the same sort of big-picture overview, combining shoreside and on-deck responsibilities without trying to be everything.
Was it right to bounce Dickson off the helm for Sten Mohr in what turned out to be the final race? Oracle lost anyway, so Ellison could be criticized for that decision. But if Dickson had kept the helm and lost, Ellison would have been criticized for freezing like a deer in the headlights. When you're losing, you can't win.
In 2003, James Spithill was part of the hapless One World campaign put out by Oracle. What goes around comes around.
Twenty years after Chris Dickson arrived on the America's Cup scene as New Zealand's wonderboy, he has yet to win the Cup, and he goes down on the sword of the new Aussie wonderboy, James Spithill. But I bet it's been one hell of a ride. The history of the America's Cup is the history of sailboat racing, and it is populated exclusively by people who dare. Shrinking violets need not apply. It couldn't have been easy for Dickson to meet the press after Race 6, but he knew what to do: Start by congratulating Francesco and James for daring and succeeding. Thus far. We're still a full month away from the America's Cup match. And there are more people who want the Cup than can have it.
Quote Unquote James Spithill
On staying in Valencia last winter while BMW Oracle and Emirates Team New Zealand two-boat tested in Auckland, and Alinghi did the same in Dubai . . .
As it turned out it was a good decision to stay here. The weather was good, and we accomplished our goals.
On making big strides . . .
A lot of credit goes to the guys who are sailing ITA-86. We've been fortunate to be able to put two good teams on the water, and they've pushed us hard in our training.
On the Race 6 start . . .
Torben was liking the right, but the pin was a bit forward and you have to like that. Then the guys started to see some stuff [up the course] on the left, and we made our decision to go for it.
On combining tight and only-slightly-loose cover in Race 6 . . .
In Race 2 [passed in the last few lengths to the finish] we learnt our lesson. No matter how big the lead was, the boys kept focus.
Quote Unquote Chris Dickson
On being replaced on the helm . . .
That was Larry's call. It's his call to make. And you have to give credit to Sten Mohr for stepping up. We call it a ‘hospital pass’ in rugby. It's when the ball is coming your way and you know you’re going to get hammered.
On watching the wheels come off . . .
We're a strong team with huge depth. We don't have any glaring weaknesses, but we got outclassed in a number of areas. Every America's Cup cycle is different, and what is needed to win is different. This wasn't determined by any one thing. Luna Rossa has improved upwind and downwind. They've improved their sails, crew work, windshift calls. A month ago you might have said that we had the competitive edge. Luna Rossa has grown.
On the future . . .
Larry is committed to continuing with the program. Me, I'll probably take the family to Disneyland on the way home.
Hey Roy--why don't you see that Chris and family get a discount. Tell the girl at the gate that he looks like this, but he probably won't be dressed the way he is in this shot by our friend Gilles Martin-Raget.
No racing on Monday. Spain meets New Zealand on Tuesday to see if Desafío Español can stay alive alive alive—Kimball
Saturday, May 19, 2007
A Present from Jimmy and the Boot from Larry
Two prestart fouls and a red flag against Chris Dickson. Take one penalty turn immediately after the start. Meltdown. Shoo. You go that way because I'm going this way, but wait, before you go, I have a present for you. Here's your tail. I don't need it anymore. Sincerely, James Spithill.
"Thank you very much for your contribution. You are excused from further participation." What NYYC's straw hats used to say to rejected wannabes; probably not what Larry Ellison said to Chris Dickson by way of excusing him from the helm of BMW Oracle for Sunday's race. Or perhaps Dickson volunteered to step aside. There is no way to know at the moment. It's Sunday morning in Valencia, and the word just hit the street that Dickson will not be aboard USA-98 for today's race--a loss would eliminate the American-flagged entry. I am hastily updating my Saturday entry before heading for the boat and the racecourse.
In five semifinal starts so far against Luna Rossa's James Spithill, I give Dickson an even start on two and a loss on three. There's no boatspeed magic to fall back on, and that's how Oracle got down 1-4 to the Italian boat. Sten Mohr now steps in on the helm, with Gavin Brady assuming the role of tactician and skipper. Mohr has held the number one match race card in the world in the past, and he has been driving the B boat to good reviews since 2006. Like a stand-in called from the wings to substitute for the diva, Mohr has nothing to lose here and everything to gain.
Meanwhile, it comes to mind that many people have predicted the Dicko show would implode. CEO, skipper, and helmsman in a world where the in-crowd marveled that he had finally matured enough to hold a team together.
As if to ask the question: You mean, what everybody thought would happen, happened?
More later. Now let's return to our previously-scheduled programming.
Take Luna Rossa's fourth win over Oracle, add a fourth Kiwi win over the Spanish, and that's the story of Race 5, semifinal round, the 2007 Louis Vuitton Cup. But if you're a glutton for details, we have'em. A little color too.
THE CROWD had been waiting, sitting in the Spanish sun, in chairs, some on the grass, some standing, and when the TV coverage came alive at the public park at Port America's Cup, they roared with approval.
When they saw their home team, Desafío Español, on the giant screen, sails up, ready to race against Emirates Team New Zealand, the crowd roared with approval.
When they saw Luna Rossa on the screen, sails up, ready to race against BMW Oracle, the crowd roared with approval. And when BMW Oracle drew foul #1 in the prestart, the crowd ROARED.
They hadn't calmed down yet when Chris Dickson drew his second foul and there they went again.
Hey, I'm just a reporter.
Having watched Louis Vuitton Cup races from several privileged positions, I decided to watch Race 5 ashore with the people. Out at the mouth of the port, just before the sand takes over and runs away up Malvarrosa Beach toward distant Barcelona, anyone can come to breathe the air of the America's Cup. So let's back up for a minute. First there was the excitement of the departure of the yachts.
Probably this is the last weekend with a Spanish team on the water . . .
The chant goes Desafio Olé Desafio Olé Desafio Olé . . .
And the crowd was out, all right . . .
From the Veles y Vents (architecture by David Chipperfield, and the name Veles y Vents is Valenciano, so don't let it panic your Spanish) you can see everything going by in the harbor, if you have front row standing room. This is also where they keep the America's Cup on public view . . .
Another level up, a few people get to watch from the Foredeck Club . . .
And here are my friends of the day, assembled out at the park to watch the big screen . . .
Really big screen. They got pretty excited when Desafio hit the line at speed, on starboard tack, after crowding New Zealand something fierce and forcing them into starting downspeed with an extra tack at the committee boat end of the line. I was suspicious, however, that Dean Barker, Terry Hutchinson, and the Kiwi weather team wanted the right-hand side of the course and had been willing to pay a price.
By then, Luna Rossa and BMW Oracle were already 10 minutes up the course, but those who had watched their start with a critical eye were still dropjawed.
Forget being surprised that BMW Oracle was vulnerable in this series. We're talking the Chris Dickson airshow (CEO, skipper, and helmsman--it really was too much) flying one wing low and trailing smoke.
Now, it's not over. I won't bore you with the platitudes, but they are also the verities. The sort of people who crew BMW Oracle are not the sort of people who give up. Luna Rossa needs to win one more race to advance to the challenger final round. Oracle needs to win four more to become a great comeback story. It's Chris Dickson's to take back. The sailors on both boats keep telling us, it's not about boatspeed, and I guess we know what's left. My fellow scribes are running around comparing comeback stories: Bertrand in '83 America's Cup. Cayard in the '92 Louis Vuitton.
The rich get richer
And we're not talking money.
OK, I'm ready to deal with Race 5. At the start of the match of the day we have BMW Oracle entering the box from the left, on port tack, thus disadvantaged. All season, however, we've watched Dickson and company being very good at neutralizing this disadvantage with perfectly-timed port-tack entries and a lot of speed, to make it across the bow of their opponent and then take the prestart dance wherever they want. Not this time. They couldn't make the cross, so they wheeled head to wind. Andy Horton, who handles the traveler aboard Luna Rossa, said, "Finally we got BMW into a dialup on port. That was on our check list."
It was a mother among dialups too. You want to be a match racer? Can you sail backwards? How long (this was a long one). Don't let the runners stop the main or you'll lose the boat—that's one of the jobs usually handled by Ellison, but he took himself off the boat on Saturday to see if a bit more muscle and hustle from his stand-in, Tony Kolb, might help the team. Maybe it did, but that's not where the race was, and Ellison certainly does not account for the 1-4 deficit.
Somebody has to be the one to break off a dialup, and this time it was Dickson. He broke away to the left, only to be matched by Spithill, who hooked a bow under Oracle's transom where he could force his fellow antipodean (Dickson is a Kiwi driving an American boat; Spithill is an Aussie driving an Italian boat) over the line early. Dickson bailed out of that deal with an attempt to cross his opponent's bow and gybe around him to get back below the line. He didn't make it. Penalty. Meanwhile Spithill had nowhere to go but to spin like the second part of Dickson's catamaran, and they ended up head to wind alongside and close. Too close. Dickson made a right turn, and his transom banged Luna Rossa forward of the genoa cars. Penalty, and that made two, and one of those penalties had to be cleared immediately after BMW Oracle crossed the start line.
Usually, that comes out badly.
I'm not going blow by blow through Race 5. Luna Rossa failed to make any significant errors and finished 01:57 ahead and still has led at every free mark of the course throughout the semifinal round.
Emirates Team New Zealand was right to choose the right, and they led at every mark of Race 5 to win by 01:49 and go up 4-1.
The semifinals, first-to-five, might end on Sunday, or they might not. Is there any part of "maybe" that you don't understand?
I'll be on the water. Gotta be there. Now dig this pic of people lined up to be allowed to ride the escalator up to the Luna Rossa store. Wow. They let them in as space becomes available—Kimball
"Thank you very much for your contribution. You are excused from further participation." What NYYC's straw hats used to say to rejected wannabes; probably not what Larry Ellison said to Chris Dickson by way of excusing him from the helm of BMW Oracle for Sunday's race. Or perhaps Dickson volunteered to step aside. There is no way to know at the moment. It's Sunday morning in Valencia, and the word just hit the street that Dickson will not be aboard USA-98 for today's race--a loss would eliminate the American-flagged entry. I am hastily updating my Saturday entry before heading for the boat and the racecourse.
In five semifinal starts so far against Luna Rossa's James Spithill, I give Dickson an even start on two and a loss on three. There's no boatspeed magic to fall back on, and that's how Oracle got down 1-4 to the Italian boat. Sten Mohr now steps in on the helm, with Gavin Brady assuming the role of tactician and skipper. Mohr has held the number one match race card in the world in the past, and he has been driving the B boat to good reviews since 2006. Like a stand-in called from the wings to substitute for the diva, Mohr has nothing to lose here and everything to gain.
Meanwhile, it comes to mind that many people have predicted the Dicko show would implode. CEO, skipper, and helmsman in a world where the in-crowd marveled that he had finally matured enough to hold a team together.
As if to ask the question: You mean, what everybody thought would happen, happened?
More later. Now let's return to our previously-scheduled programming.
Take Luna Rossa's fourth win over Oracle, add a fourth Kiwi win over the Spanish, and that's the story of Race 5, semifinal round, the 2007 Louis Vuitton Cup. But if you're a glutton for details, we have'em. A little color too.
THE CROWD had been waiting, sitting in the Spanish sun, in chairs, some on the grass, some standing, and when the TV coverage came alive at the public park at Port America's Cup, they roared with approval.
When they saw their home team, Desafío Español, on the giant screen, sails up, ready to race against Emirates Team New Zealand, the crowd roared with approval.
When they saw Luna Rossa on the screen, sails up, ready to race against BMW Oracle, the crowd roared with approval. And when BMW Oracle drew foul #1 in the prestart, the crowd ROARED.
They hadn't calmed down yet when Chris Dickson drew his second foul and there they went again.
Hey, I'm just a reporter.
Having watched Louis Vuitton Cup races from several privileged positions, I decided to watch Race 5 ashore with the people. Out at the mouth of the port, just before the sand takes over and runs away up Malvarrosa Beach toward distant Barcelona, anyone can come to breathe the air of the America's Cup. So let's back up for a minute. First there was the excitement of the departure of the yachts.
Probably this is the last weekend with a Spanish team on the water . . .
The chant goes Desafio Olé Desafio Olé Desafio Olé . . .
And the crowd was out, all right . . .
From the Veles y Vents (architecture by David Chipperfield, and the name Veles y Vents is Valenciano, so don't let it panic your Spanish) you can see everything going by in the harbor, if you have front row standing room. This is also where they keep the America's Cup on public view . . .
Another level up, a few people get to watch from the Foredeck Club . . .
And here are my friends of the day, assembled out at the park to watch the big screen . . .
Really big screen. They got pretty excited when Desafio hit the line at speed, on starboard tack, after crowding New Zealand something fierce and forcing them into starting downspeed with an extra tack at the committee boat end of the line. I was suspicious, however, that Dean Barker, Terry Hutchinson, and the Kiwi weather team wanted the right-hand side of the course and had been willing to pay a price.
By then, Luna Rossa and BMW Oracle were already 10 minutes up the course, but those who had watched their start with a critical eye were still dropjawed.
Forget being surprised that BMW Oracle was vulnerable in this series. We're talking the Chris Dickson airshow (CEO, skipper, and helmsman--it really was too much) flying one wing low and trailing smoke.
Now, it's not over. I won't bore you with the platitudes, but they are also the verities. The sort of people who crew BMW Oracle are not the sort of people who give up. Luna Rossa needs to win one more race to advance to the challenger final round. Oracle needs to win four more to become a great comeback story. It's Chris Dickson's to take back. The sailors on both boats keep telling us, it's not about boatspeed, and I guess we know what's left. My fellow scribes are running around comparing comeback stories: Bertrand in '83 America's Cup. Cayard in the '92 Louis Vuitton.
The rich get richer
And we're not talking money.
OK, I'm ready to deal with Race 5. At the start of the match of the day we have BMW Oracle entering the box from the left, on port tack, thus disadvantaged. All season, however, we've watched Dickson and company being very good at neutralizing this disadvantage with perfectly-timed port-tack entries and a lot of speed, to make it across the bow of their opponent and then take the prestart dance wherever they want. Not this time. They couldn't make the cross, so they wheeled head to wind. Andy Horton, who handles the traveler aboard Luna Rossa, said, "Finally we got BMW into a dialup on port. That was on our check list."
It was a mother among dialups too. You want to be a match racer? Can you sail backwards? How long (this was a long one). Don't let the runners stop the main or you'll lose the boat—that's one of the jobs usually handled by Ellison, but he took himself off the boat on Saturday to see if a bit more muscle and hustle from his stand-in, Tony Kolb, might help the team. Maybe it did, but that's not where the race was, and Ellison certainly does not account for the 1-4 deficit.
Somebody has to be the one to break off a dialup, and this time it was Dickson. He broke away to the left, only to be matched by Spithill, who hooked a bow under Oracle's transom where he could force his fellow antipodean (Dickson is a Kiwi driving an American boat; Spithill is an Aussie driving an Italian boat) over the line early. Dickson bailed out of that deal with an attempt to cross his opponent's bow and gybe around him to get back below the line. He didn't make it. Penalty. Meanwhile Spithill had nowhere to go but to spin like the second part of Dickson's catamaran, and they ended up head to wind alongside and close. Too close. Dickson made a right turn, and his transom banged Luna Rossa forward of the genoa cars. Penalty, and that made two, and one of those penalties had to be cleared immediately after BMW Oracle crossed the start line.
Usually, that comes out badly.
I'm not going blow by blow through Race 5. Luna Rossa failed to make any significant errors and finished 01:57 ahead and still has led at every free mark of the course throughout the semifinal round.
Emirates Team New Zealand was right to choose the right, and they led at every mark of Race 5 to win by 01:49 and go up 4-1.
The semifinals, first-to-five, might end on Sunday, or they might not. Is there any part of "maybe" that you don't understand?
I'll be on the water. Gotta be there. Now dig this pic of people lined up to be allowed to ride the escalator up to the Luna Rossa store. Wow. They let them in as space becomes available—Kimball
Friday, May 18, 2007
Didn't see that train a'comin
The BMW Oracle machine had me convinced they had a better hammer. I think they believed it too, or they couldn't have sold the notion half so well to just about everybody in Valencia.
I came here expecting to see a final-round showdown between BMW Oracle and Emirates Team New Zealand for the right to challenge. I may have to adjust.
Mind you, in this game, you don't write somebody off because he's down 1-3 in a first-to-five semifinal match. But if you're investing for widows and orphans, you'd be derelict to not move some chips off 98 in the wake of Friday's 00:23 loss to Luna Rossa. Australia II in the 1983 America's Cup match came back from a 1-3 deficit to become the first challenger ever to win. But the Aussies really did have a better hammer.
Chris Dickson and the BMW Oracle team have a fast boat, the measure of Luna Rossa in the sailing we've seen, but James Spithill and the Luna Rossa team have done a better job of getting in front and staying there. To date, they have led at every open mark of the course; Dickson claimed his one win with a squeaker pass and a 13-second delta at the finish of Race 2, puffing his cheeks and blowing out a big one as he crossed the line.
The "urban legend" had it that the white team could always reach into the kit and pull out another tick of speed. I think that one has been laid to rest. If Oracle comes back to win, it will be a great comeback, one that you could almost say was wasted on the semis.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
No, they wouldn't see it as "wasted." I reckon they have a few people rummaging through the kit, and they've shown no signs of panic. They're legal for one more re-mode in this round. Meanwhile at the Luna Rossa base . . .
Spirits are running pretty high. This was a bit of the sendoff on Friday. Each day, everybody gets an air horn or three.
Luna Rossa is run by Prada boss Patrizio Bertelli, who went all the way to being the challenger in 2000, then lost to a successful Kiwi defense. This is a seasoned house. But Friday's start by Spithill had no magic in it, and you still have to wonder about some of the tactical calls. Hanging with the homies after Race 4, I talked to Paul Cayard—he's doing commentary for Italian television—and he walked through two leeward-rounding scenarios that would have given Luna Rossa complete control of the second beat, he said, with closure: "Game over." Paul was comparing that to what actually happened, Luna Rossa making an extra gybe and a ragged takedown, then allowing a split of 1.7 miles. That's not a typo. 1.7 miles. Yes, they came back together, and there wasn't much in it. Tactician Torben Grael got away with it. But I like Dick Enersen's take: "Applying the tactics of desperation from a leading position."
These three folks were on the Luna Rossa roof, doing the Italian colors their way ...
It was a day with steady wind direction, but variations in pressure, generally dropping from a high of 12 knots at the start. Controlling the first leg was the key in both races (Dickson won the side he wanted in the prestart), and the breaks could have gone either way. The official delta at the first mark was Luna Rossa by one second.
Early in my time here I talked to "Juan K," Juan Kouyoumdjian, who allowed that New Zealand's boat "might have a speed problem." I also talked to Bruce Farr and Britt Ward, who were at the front of the design team, and they sounded like people who expected to be in the game for the long haul. The round robins were on, and Farr said, "The machine (the computer running CFD numbers) is still running. In our case we might race with something that's not even built yet."
That sounds a bit different from navigator Isler on Friday, "It sounds trite, but you can only sail one race a day. At this level there are no fancy tricks to make your boat jump out of the water and go, or make the tactician on the other boat do something stupid."
In the prestart, USA-98 broke a "flipper" at the end of a starboard spreader—a flattened vertical arm that helps shape the oversized head of the genoa—and was weakened throughout the race on port tack, and through tacks. But that probably was not the race, even though the leading feature of the first leg was a long port-tack board with Luna Rossa gaining on the inside to lead around the first mark by a whisker. Asked if team boss Larry Ellison would be making crew changes, Isler said, "There's nothing to fix. We just need to go out and post a win a day, and that's possible."
Quote Unquote Francesco de Angelis, skipper:
LUNA ROSSA
On seeing BMW Oracle brought to earth—
The great thing about this sport is that you never know what is going to happen. You have to earn it on the water.
On that huge split—
If you have strong feelings, you go with that. I think both boats had strong feelings today.
On tight competition—
This racecourse seems like an easy place to sort out, but it's not. And the more you shrink the fleet [to the final four] the closer you expect it to be. All the races have been close. They will go on being close.
VIVA ESPAÑA !
Lots of schoolkids showed up today at Port America's Cup. This bunch was pleased to share a little ditty that ran, VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA !
I broke it off barely before getting bowled over backwards, apologized to the teacher for inciting a riot, and moved on.
With Adam Beashel back aboard (mangled finger), Emirates Team New Zealand did the job of adding another point to go up 3-1 against Desafío Español. But listen to Kiwi strategist Ray Davies on coming off the start line with the nose ahead by half a boat length: "That half-length lead is where the race was controlled from. There was never a right shift to help them out." ETNZ by 00:42.
Challenged to explain how the Desafío Español team keeps people motivated in the face of loss, their American navigator Matt Wachowicz delivered a little speech that was so good it drew applause from the press corps.
(!)
I can't really quote the man, but what he said went very much like this:
You have to understand, we're a young team. We set limited goals, and we accomplished our main goal. We made the semis. Then we sat ourselves down and set a new goal, to win one race of the semis. So we did that, and then we decided the new goal is to win some more. I think the New Zealand team would agree that we've put together a fast boat that is about the same speed as their boat [Ray Davies nods yes] and the crew work is good. We have some holes in our game, but motivation? Motivation is NOT a problem. The guys are up. They are just so happy to be sailing. They've never been in the semifinal round of the Louis Vuitton Cup before. We take the fight to the Kiwis every time we go out there, and we'd go racing right this minute if we could.
I want this guy on my team—Kimball
I came here expecting to see a final-round showdown between BMW Oracle and Emirates Team New Zealand for the right to challenge. I may have to adjust.
Mind you, in this game, you don't write somebody off because he's down 1-3 in a first-to-five semifinal match. But if you're investing for widows and orphans, you'd be derelict to not move some chips off 98 in the wake of Friday's 00:23 loss to Luna Rossa. Australia II in the 1983 America's Cup match came back from a 1-3 deficit to become the first challenger ever to win. But the Aussies really did have a better hammer.
Chris Dickson and the BMW Oracle team have a fast boat, the measure of Luna Rossa in the sailing we've seen, but James Spithill and the Luna Rossa team have done a better job of getting in front and staying there. To date, they have led at every open mark of the course; Dickson claimed his one win with a squeaker pass and a 13-second delta at the finish of Race 2, puffing his cheeks and blowing out a big one as he crossed the line.
The "urban legend" had it that the white team could always reach into the kit and pull out another tick of speed. I think that one has been laid to rest. If Oracle comes back to win, it will be a great comeback, one that you could almost say was wasted on the semis.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
No, they wouldn't see it as "wasted." I reckon they have a few people rummaging through the kit, and they've shown no signs of panic. They're legal for one more re-mode in this round. Meanwhile at the Luna Rossa base . . .
Spirits are running pretty high. This was a bit of the sendoff on Friday. Each day, everybody gets an air horn or three.
Luna Rossa is run by Prada boss Patrizio Bertelli, who went all the way to being the challenger in 2000, then lost to a successful Kiwi defense. This is a seasoned house. But Friday's start by Spithill had no magic in it, and you still have to wonder about some of the tactical calls. Hanging with the homies after Race 4, I talked to Paul Cayard—he's doing commentary for Italian television—and he walked through two leeward-rounding scenarios that would have given Luna Rossa complete control of the second beat, he said, with closure: "Game over." Paul was comparing that to what actually happened, Luna Rossa making an extra gybe and a ragged takedown, then allowing a split of 1.7 miles. That's not a typo. 1.7 miles. Yes, they came back together, and there wasn't much in it. Tactician Torben Grael got away with it. But I like Dick Enersen's take: "Applying the tactics of desperation from a leading position."
These three folks were on the Luna Rossa roof, doing the Italian colors their way ...
It was a day with steady wind direction, but variations in pressure, generally dropping from a high of 12 knots at the start. Controlling the first leg was the key in both races (Dickson won the side he wanted in the prestart), and the breaks could have gone either way. The official delta at the first mark was Luna Rossa by one second.
Early in my time here I talked to "Juan K," Juan Kouyoumdjian, who allowed that New Zealand's boat "might have a speed problem." I also talked to Bruce Farr and Britt Ward, who were at the front of the design team, and they sounded like people who expected to be in the game for the long haul. The round robins were on, and Farr said, "The machine (the computer running CFD numbers) is still running. In our case we might race with something that's not even built yet."
That sounds a bit different from navigator Isler on Friday, "It sounds trite, but you can only sail one race a day. At this level there are no fancy tricks to make your boat jump out of the water and go, or make the tactician on the other boat do something stupid."
In the prestart, USA-98 broke a "flipper" at the end of a starboard spreader—a flattened vertical arm that helps shape the oversized head of the genoa—and was weakened throughout the race on port tack, and through tacks. But that probably was not the race, even though the leading feature of the first leg was a long port-tack board with Luna Rossa gaining on the inside to lead around the first mark by a whisker. Asked if team boss Larry Ellison would be making crew changes, Isler said, "There's nothing to fix. We just need to go out and post a win a day, and that's possible."
Quote Unquote Francesco de Angelis, skipper:
LUNA ROSSA
On seeing BMW Oracle brought to earth—
The great thing about this sport is that you never know what is going to happen. You have to earn it on the water.
On that huge split—
If you have strong feelings, you go with that. I think both boats had strong feelings today.
On tight competition—
This racecourse seems like an easy place to sort out, but it's not. And the more you shrink the fleet [to the final four] the closer you expect it to be. All the races have been close. They will go on being close.
VIVA ESPAÑA !
Lots of schoolkids showed up today at Port America's Cup. This bunch was pleased to share a little ditty that ran, VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA VIVA ESPAÑA !
I broke it off barely before getting bowled over backwards, apologized to the teacher for inciting a riot, and moved on.
With Adam Beashel back aboard (mangled finger), Emirates Team New Zealand did the job of adding another point to go up 3-1 against Desafío Español. But listen to Kiwi strategist Ray Davies on coming off the start line with the nose ahead by half a boat length: "That half-length lead is where the race was controlled from. There was never a right shift to help them out." ETNZ by 00:42.
Challenged to explain how the Desafío Español team keeps people motivated in the face of loss, their American navigator Matt Wachowicz delivered a little speech that was so good it drew applause from the press corps.
(!)
I can't really quote the man, but what he said went very much like this:
You have to understand, we're a young team. We set limited goals, and we accomplished our main goal. We made the semis. Then we sat ourselves down and set a new goal, to win one race of the semis. So we did that, and then we decided the new goal is to win some more. I think the New Zealand team would agree that we've put together a fast boat that is about the same speed as their boat [Ray Davies nods yes] and the crew work is good. We have some holes in our game, but motivation? Motivation is NOT a problem. The guys are up. They are just so happy to be sailing. They've never been in the semifinal round of the Louis Vuitton Cup before. We take the fight to the Kiwis every time we go out there, and we'd go racing right this minute if we could.
I want this guy on my team—Kimball
Thursday, May 17, 2007
The Larry Factor
In an quiet moment at the BMW Oracle base, navigator Peter Isler was sitting with longtime friend and fellow soldier of the America's Cup, Malin Burnham, telling him that the very rich software guy who owns the team had been a critical factor in building team spirit. He said of Larry Ellison, "We were all on the edge of burnout after two years of speed testing. Then Larry dumped the office and moved to Valencia and brought this incredible, infectious energy, and pretty soon we were all fired up to go yacht racing."
You know this Gilles Martin-Raget picture was taken not in the last few days, and Isler was speaking of events in the now long ago, before the round robin racing. But it is an interesting take on someone better known for his jets and his business practices and his very big yachts.
I would figure there is some version of the Larry factor in play as BMW Oracle prepares for Race 4 of the semis, down 1-2 to Italy's Luna Rossa. There's pressure. But the fact is that all the top sailors have been hardened in the same crucible. They don't crack easily. Not Luna Rossa helmsman James Spithill, when he lost a squeaker in Race 2. Not Chris Dickson, who's been at this game for 20 years, since 1987, when he had a boat that was fast enough to win the Cup but not fast enough to earn the right to challenge.
Speaking of Ellison's big boats, here's USA-98 and Mr. Big, Rising Sun. Big is big.
Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Back to business:
It's possible that we are looking at the two fastest ACC boats in the world in the Luna Rossa-Oracle matchup, but that's just tossing out a "possible." You never count out Team New Zealand unless they put themselves out. And in all the workup regattas, the fastest was the defender, Alinghi, so it's also possible that what we're watching here is a bunch of lambs competing for a pen in the slaughterhouse.
Possible, even plausible, is the thought that if we see continued racing in 10-12 knots, smooth water, the Luna Rossa-BMW Oracle matchup will be decided on the starting line, where Spithill, a 27-year-old Aussie, has been living up to his boy-wonder reputation. What was that purple line I tossed off the other day? "Wielding Luna Rossa like a master dueler with a magic blade." Hoo boy. But it's true enough.
Race 4: All of us who have lost someone to breast cancer owe a shoutout to Donald Wilson, the Chicago businessman who made an online bid of $102,000 for a Race 4 ride as 18th man on BMW Oracle—the money goes to Susan B. Komen for the Cure. Worth knowing: There's a longterm relationship here. BMW's Ultimate Drive Supporting Susan G. Komen for the Cure is a grassroots nationwide fundraising effort in the USA that has raised more than $10 million to date. If USA-98 gets to the Cup, Wilson gets to ride again. You know where his heart is.
Competing Visions
My first America's Cup was in 1980, a New York Yacht Club affair. Buttoned down. Breton red. After the Royal Perth Yacht Club got away with the Cup in 1983, they displayed a penchant for holding ceremonial matters on the grounds of the club. The same proved true when the Cup went to San Diego and then to Auckland. Not so, here. La Société nautique de Genève has lake waters capable of supporting America's Cup racing, but not the sailing conditions to make it right and (I suspect) no place to build a Cup City to match what has been done in Valencia.
I'm not alone, however, in thinking that the America's Cup future could look very different. The defender's refusal to commit to defending again in Valencia, if they are successful here, suggests to me that this is Valencia's one shot unless Desafío Español catches fire and shocks us all.
Alinghi boss Ernesto Bertarelli invited Larry Ellison to become the challenger of record, and together they developed the "Acts," the pre-event regattas that toured Europe with great success and which produced the bonus points, going into the Louis Vuitton Cup regatta, that put Team New Zealand on top and allowed them to choose the Spanish boat as an opponent for this semifinal round. The Spanish say they will defend in Valencia if they win the Cup. The Kiwis have been silent, presumably because they would come under great pressure from the home front to defend in a traditional, long event in Auckland, while simultaneously coming under pressure from fellow competitors and sponsors to play it looser than that. It's one thing to do relationship marketing in the close quarters of Europe (the BMW Oracle people say they expect to host more than 15,000 VIP guests, with more than 750,000 passing through the public area), but it's another thing to do it in the antipodes.
Ellison is on record that he wants to put the challenger trials on a circuit, a predictable sequence of events leading up to a final defense of the Cup. This is a vision of mobile teams, each with a base somewhere but operating on the road out of tents and containers, venue to venue. Among those heartily endorsing: Stephane Kandler, head of the French Areva challenge.
Among those apparently opposed is the defender, Bertarelli, who hasn't gone public, but apparently would prefer to mix modes again, while finding yet another host city. The closest he's come to going on the record is for his skipper, Brad Butterworth, to say, "We believe that assigning more points to the Acts, to make them more meaningful, would be good for the game."
Among those clearly opposed is Patrizio Bertelli, the man who built Prada into a powerful brand and who also is head of the Luna Rossa challenge.
When you ask Bertarelli about the Cup, he speaks of its "transformative power." That is, like the Olympics, the America's Cup transforms the host city by becoming part of it for a time, by inspiring public projects and bringing in money. That didn't play in San Diego, but in Australia, the once run-down town of Fremantle was transformed and invigorated, and it never looked back. Valencia is too big to be touched throughout, but what was once an industrial port now has something new and beautiful. The talk is, if the America's Cup leaves, they'll try to run a Formula One race right there in the Darsena, with a bridge to complete the circuit.
Any way you look at it, the America's Cup is more than a boat race.
What, a free day?
This being a no-race day, I see no point going to the port to confirm that most or all of the teams are sending out one boat for continued development. Nor do I see a point in checking with the teams regarding "the mood of the camp." They wouldn't tell me anything not intended for public consumption. The Isler quote at the top of this story was interesting to me because it came from a private, unguarded moment, enough so that I asked for permission before I used it.
No, I hopped the bike and wandered with the aim of eventually ending up on the Gran Via Marquez del Turia, a wide, tree-line boulevard where the Valencianos like to display sculpture--in the islands in the center--on a scale that, most places in the USA, wouldn't get moved around. The first show I saw here, two years ago, I assumed was permanent. Boy, was I wrong. Right now, until July 15, Arts in the Street, Arte en la Calle, is showing Manolo Valdés, a local who likes to work in simplified, stylized, female forms. This lineup invites you to stop and ponder . . .
But I bet Valdez would more enjoy this moment of life imitating art. One more picture, just hold your arm a little higher . . .
The show runs four blocks. Crossing the streets between them, I find that cars honor my presence in the pedestrian walk, but scooters do not. If I die here, squashed like a bug, it will probably be under the wheels of a Vespa . . .
Gran Via Marquez del Tura is one of those mixed-use streets that Europeans take for granted and Americans are trying to reinvent. You have apartments above and shops at street level. In the space of one block you can buy Prada shoes and a Gucci bag and celebrate a great day of shopping with your favorite meal at Pizza Hut. (Sigh.) No matter where you go. Then again, I once toured the villages of Tuscany with a seven-year-old, and I would have killed to see a Pizza Hut sign. Looking up four stories, I was intrigued by what appears to be a mondo-modern penthouse tucked away up there . . .
With a hat like this, a lady could own Paris . . .
Time to move on. Thanks, Manolo, and Arte en la Calle . . .
On my way to an internet connection I stumbled across the Mercado Colon. Valencia is known for tile and mosaic work, and there's some of both in this picture. There was an art class sketching it at the time . . .
And they don't even put out signs to draw you into the grand courtyard at the university, nor do they hang a sign to identify this as art. But I think it is. One carefully assembled pile of stones between each column pair, the full length of one wall, 12 in all. Hey, I'm no critic . . .
Now before this turns into the slide show from hell (I hope before) I'm going to call it done and make the transition from Word doc to up-on-the-net. Gotta go to the port soon for a small affair organized by our own Mr. Louis Vuitton, Bruno Trouble, at the Foredeck Club, for the Society of International Scribes. SINS. We meet formally at each America's Cup and have been known to convene at other times (quorum of two) in airports or wherever. I could tell you more, but then I'd have to kill you—Kimball
You know this Gilles Martin-Raget picture was taken not in the last few days, and Isler was speaking of events in the now long ago, before the round robin racing. But it is an interesting take on someone better known for his jets and his business practices and his very big yachts.
I would figure there is some version of the Larry factor in play as BMW Oracle prepares for Race 4 of the semis, down 1-2 to Italy's Luna Rossa. There's pressure. But the fact is that all the top sailors have been hardened in the same crucible. They don't crack easily. Not Luna Rossa helmsman James Spithill, when he lost a squeaker in Race 2. Not Chris Dickson, who's been at this game for 20 years, since 1987, when he had a boat that was fast enough to win the Cup but not fast enough to earn the right to challenge.
Speaking of Ellison's big boats, here's USA-98 and Mr. Big, Rising Sun. Big is big.
Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Back to business:
It's possible that we are looking at the two fastest ACC boats in the world in the Luna Rossa-Oracle matchup, but that's just tossing out a "possible." You never count out Team New Zealand unless they put themselves out. And in all the workup regattas, the fastest was the defender, Alinghi, so it's also possible that what we're watching here is a bunch of lambs competing for a pen in the slaughterhouse.
Possible, even plausible, is the thought that if we see continued racing in 10-12 knots, smooth water, the Luna Rossa-BMW Oracle matchup will be decided on the starting line, where Spithill, a 27-year-old Aussie, has been living up to his boy-wonder reputation. What was that purple line I tossed off the other day? "Wielding Luna Rossa like a master dueler with a magic blade." Hoo boy. But it's true enough.
Race 4: All of us who have lost someone to breast cancer owe a shoutout to Donald Wilson, the Chicago businessman who made an online bid of $102,000 for a Race 4 ride as 18th man on BMW Oracle—the money goes to Susan B. Komen for the Cure. Worth knowing: There's a longterm relationship here. BMW's Ultimate Drive Supporting Susan G. Komen for the Cure is a grassroots nationwide fundraising effort in the USA that has raised more than $10 million to date. If USA-98 gets to the Cup, Wilson gets to ride again. You know where his heart is.
Competing Visions
My first America's Cup was in 1980, a New York Yacht Club affair. Buttoned down. Breton red. After the Royal Perth Yacht Club got away with the Cup in 1983, they displayed a penchant for holding ceremonial matters on the grounds of the club. The same proved true when the Cup went to San Diego and then to Auckland. Not so, here. La Société nautique de Genève has lake waters capable of supporting America's Cup racing, but not the sailing conditions to make it right and (I suspect) no place to build a Cup City to match what has been done in Valencia.
I'm not alone, however, in thinking that the America's Cup future could look very different. The defender's refusal to commit to defending again in Valencia, if they are successful here, suggests to me that this is Valencia's one shot unless Desafío Español catches fire and shocks us all.
Alinghi boss Ernesto Bertarelli invited Larry Ellison to become the challenger of record, and together they developed the "Acts," the pre-event regattas that toured Europe with great success and which produced the bonus points, going into the Louis Vuitton Cup regatta, that put Team New Zealand on top and allowed them to choose the Spanish boat as an opponent for this semifinal round. The Spanish say they will defend in Valencia if they win the Cup. The Kiwis have been silent, presumably because they would come under great pressure from the home front to defend in a traditional, long event in Auckland, while simultaneously coming under pressure from fellow competitors and sponsors to play it looser than that. It's one thing to do relationship marketing in the close quarters of Europe (the BMW Oracle people say they expect to host more than 15,000 VIP guests, with more than 750,000 passing through the public area), but it's another thing to do it in the antipodes.
Ellison is on record that he wants to put the challenger trials on a circuit, a predictable sequence of events leading up to a final defense of the Cup. This is a vision of mobile teams, each with a base somewhere but operating on the road out of tents and containers, venue to venue. Among those heartily endorsing: Stephane Kandler, head of the French Areva challenge.
Among those apparently opposed is the defender, Bertarelli, who hasn't gone public, but apparently would prefer to mix modes again, while finding yet another host city. The closest he's come to going on the record is for his skipper, Brad Butterworth, to say, "We believe that assigning more points to the Acts, to make them more meaningful, would be good for the game."
Among those clearly opposed is Patrizio Bertelli, the man who built Prada into a powerful brand and who also is head of the Luna Rossa challenge.
When you ask Bertarelli about the Cup, he speaks of its "transformative power." That is, like the Olympics, the America's Cup transforms the host city by becoming part of it for a time, by inspiring public projects and bringing in money. That didn't play in San Diego, but in Australia, the once run-down town of Fremantle was transformed and invigorated, and it never looked back. Valencia is too big to be touched throughout, but what was once an industrial port now has something new and beautiful. The talk is, if the America's Cup leaves, they'll try to run a Formula One race right there in the Darsena, with a bridge to complete the circuit.
Any way you look at it, the America's Cup is more than a boat race.
What, a free day?
This being a no-race day, I see no point going to the port to confirm that most or all of the teams are sending out one boat for continued development. Nor do I see a point in checking with the teams regarding "the mood of the camp." They wouldn't tell me anything not intended for public consumption. The Isler quote at the top of this story was interesting to me because it came from a private, unguarded moment, enough so that I asked for permission before I used it.
No, I hopped the bike and wandered with the aim of eventually ending up on the Gran Via Marquez del Turia, a wide, tree-line boulevard where the Valencianos like to display sculpture--in the islands in the center--on a scale that, most places in the USA, wouldn't get moved around. The first show I saw here, two years ago, I assumed was permanent. Boy, was I wrong. Right now, until July 15, Arts in the Street, Arte en la Calle, is showing Manolo Valdés, a local who likes to work in simplified, stylized, female forms. This lineup invites you to stop and ponder . . .
But I bet Valdez would more enjoy this moment of life imitating art. One more picture, just hold your arm a little higher . . .
The show runs four blocks. Crossing the streets between them, I find that cars honor my presence in the pedestrian walk, but scooters do not. If I die here, squashed like a bug, it will probably be under the wheels of a Vespa . . .
Gran Via Marquez del Tura is one of those mixed-use streets that Europeans take for granted and Americans are trying to reinvent. You have apartments above and shops at street level. In the space of one block you can buy Prada shoes and a Gucci bag and celebrate a great day of shopping with your favorite meal at Pizza Hut. (Sigh.) No matter where you go. Then again, I once toured the villages of Tuscany with a seven-year-old, and I would have killed to see a Pizza Hut sign. Looking up four stories, I was intrigued by what appears to be a mondo-modern penthouse tucked away up there . . .
With a hat like this, a lady could own Paris . . .
Time to move on. Thanks, Manolo, and Arte en la Calle . . .
On my way to an internet connection I stumbled across the Mercado Colon. Valencia is known for tile and mosaic work, and there's some of both in this picture. There was an art class sketching it at the time . . .
And they don't even put out signs to draw you into the grand courtyard at the university, nor do they hang a sign to identify this as art. But I think it is. One carefully assembled pile of stones between each column pair, the full length of one wall, 12 in all. Hey, I'm no critic . . .
Now before this turns into the slide show from hell (I hope before) I'm going to call it done and make the transition from Word doc to up-on-the-net. Gotta go to the port soon for a small affair organized by our own Mr. Louis Vuitton, Bruno Trouble, at the Foredeck Club, for the Society of International Scribes. SINS. We meet formally at each America's Cup and have been known to convene at other times (quorum of two) in airports or wherever. I could tell you more, but then I'd have to kill you—Kimball
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Pick a Headline, Any Headline
Having done a stint as a writer for the movies, I know the hit-with-a-brickbat feeling when the director tells you to go rewrite the script. And rewriting the script is just what we're doing now in Valencia.
Is the headline, "Luna Rossa Wins!" or is it, "BMW Oracle Loses!"
Each of the pairings is now 2-1, but the 01:14 Spanish win today in Race 3—winning the prestart, laying a foul on Dean Barker, and then doing everything right around the racecourse—has not dented the air of inevitability around the expected, eventual, advance of Emirates Team New Zealand to the challenger finals.
The 00:34 win of Luna Rossa over BMW Oracle, however, does change the picture. In the minds of many, BMW Oracle had built up an air of inevitability regarding its own advance to the challenger finals, and that balloon is bust.
The balloon, that is. The inevitability. Not the ability of BMW Oracle to win races. At least there's nobody suggesting they threw the race to add drama to the Louis Vuitton Cup. And you know what? I'm still not ready to move my chips off 98.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
But this was not a fluke. James Spithill got the best of the prestart. He had Luna Rossa on the line with speed on port tack at the gun. His final exchange with Chris Dickson had left BMW Oracle crowding the starboard-tack layline, burning speed to stay behind the start line, and then pinching around the mark and starting downspeed. For a long way up the beat you could figure that Luna Rossa's small advantage came directly out of that. And then—
Working up to the top mark, ITA-94 was on the right of USA-98, and there was a right shift that gradually moved top-to-bottom the full length the course. That was gravy on the plate for ITA-94. The first cross took place almost at the layline, and the rounding was a 29-second delta. "No passing lanes" was the universal description of Race 3, and that was that.
Torben gets religion
Five-time Olympic medalist Torben Grael took a heap of criticism in the first two races for playing it loose, ignoring the keep-a-close-cover testament of the match-race bible in favor of playing the course. In one race it worked out OK for him in his job as tactician for Luna Rossa. In one race it did not. Today he acted out the words of the match-race bible like a true believer:
USA-98 gybes; ITA-94 gybes.
USA-98 tacks; ITA-94 tacks.
Get it?
It was a different kind of racecourse, and it called for a different style of play. Grael did not meet the press after Race 3, but I'm pretty sure that's the gist of what he would have said. This one did not have the wide-open randomness of race one, nor the puffy streakiness of race two. Did I mention, "no passing lanes?"
Nobody is better at finding passing lanes than Larry Ellison's BMW Oracle team, skippered by Dickson with Gavin Brady making tactical calls. And if there had been passing lanes, New Zealand might have found a way around Desafío Español.
Reverse the positions between Desafío Español and New Zealand, and I'd probably be reporting "another workmanlike performance" on the part of the Kiwis in getting ahead and staying ahead of the Spanish team. Instead it was Karol Jablonski on the helm and John Cutler on tactics in what, for them was a validation of their underdog philosophy of going out every day expecting to win. They won the race on every leg, after winning the prestart. Jablonski, asked what he'll be doing on Thursday (a no-race day) wryly replied, "Well, the original plan was to go out and practice prestarts . . . "
©Chris Cameron/ETNZ
About New Zealand's penalty. Full marks to Dean Barker for describing it simply as "an error I made." Many of us who watched that port-starboard incident thought it was a call that could have gone either way, but that's part of the game. You live with it and you sail.
Now here's a thought. After the vagaries of Race 2, BMW Oracle navigator Peter Isler called it, "completely maddening to sail against someone who won't tack or gybe with you." Today, after the all-new, got-religion Torben sat on top of the white team all the way around the course (Andy Horton is in on the tactics aboard Luna Rossa; I'd better acknowledge that), I was wanting to ask Isler how he felt about that, but strategist Eric Doyle was thrown to the press instead. Doyle's take: "Today was more consistent, and they sailed as conditions dictated."
Numbers that matter
1
Number of races lost by New Zealand since April 28
0
Number of marks BMW Oracle has rounded ahead of Luna Rossa in the semis
3
Number of helmsmen showing up at the press conference
(We miss you, Chris)
Quote of the day
James Spithill, 27, helmsman, Luna Rossa, sailing in his third America's Cup, on losing a big lead—and Race 2—in the last few seconds before the finish:
"That was a tough one to swallow. A result like that could crumble some teams, but there is nothing you can do to change that result. The thing you can do is focus on the next race."
No racing on Thursday.
Friday, Race 4. Maybe further re-modes? Different sails. A different breeze?
Same writers. Oh well—Kimball
Is the headline, "Luna Rossa Wins!" or is it, "BMW Oracle Loses!"
Each of the pairings is now 2-1, but the 01:14 Spanish win today in Race 3—winning the prestart, laying a foul on Dean Barker, and then doing everything right around the racecourse—has not dented the air of inevitability around the expected, eventual, advance of Emirates Team New Zealand to the challenger finals.
The 00:34 win of Luna Rossa over BMW Oracle, however, does change the picture. In the minds of many, BMW Oracle had built up an air of inevitability regarding its own advance to the challenger finals, and that balloon is bust.
The balloon, that is. The inevitability. Not the ability of BMW Oracle to win races. At least there's nobody suggesting they threw the race to add drama to the Louis Vuitton Cup. And you know what? I'm still not ready to move my chips off 98.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
But this was not a fluke. James Spithill got the best of the prestart. He had Luna Rossa on the line with speed on port tack at the gun. His final exchange with Chris Dickson had left BMW Oracle crowding the starboard-tack layline, burning speed to stay behind the start line, and then pinching around the mark and starting downspeed. For a long way up the beat you could figure that Luna Rossa's small advantage came directly out of that. And then—
Working up to the top mark, ITA-94 was on the right of USA-98, and there was a right shift that gradually moved top-to-bottom the full length the course. That was gravy on the plate for ITA-94. The first cross took place almost at the layline, and the rounding was a 29-second delta. "No passing lanes" was the universal description of Race 3, and that was that.
Torben gets religion
Five-time Olympic medalist Torben Grael took a heap of criticism in the first two races for playing it loose, ignoring the keep-a-close-cover testament of the match-race bible in favor of playing the course. In one race it worked out OK for him in his job as tactician for Luna Rossa. In one race it did not. Today he acted out the words of the match-race bible like a true believer:
USA-98 gybes; ITA-94 gybes.
USA-98 tacks; ITA-94 tacks.
Get it?
It was a different kind of racecourse, and it called for a different style of play. Grael did not meet the press after Race 3, but I'm pretty sure that's the gist of what he would have said. This one did not have the wide-open randomness of race one, nor the puffy streakiness of race two. Did I mention, "no passing lanes?"
Nobody is better at finding passing lanes than Larry Ellison's BMW Oracle team, skippered by Dickson with Gavin Brady making tactical calls. And if there had been passing lanes, New Zealand might have found a way around Desafío Español.
Reverse the positions between Desafío Español and New Zealand, and I'd probably be reporting "another workmanlike performance" on the part of the Kiwis in getting ahead and staying ahead of the Spanish team. Instead it was Karol Jablonski on the helm and John Cutler on tactics in what, for them was a validation of their underdog philosophy of going out every day expecting to win. They won the race on every leg, after winning the prestart. Jablonski, asked what he'll be doing on Thursday (a no-race day) wryly replied, "Well, the original plan was to go out and practice prestarts . . . "
©Chris Cameron/ETNZ
About New Zealand's penalty. Full marks to Dean Barker for describing it simply as "an error I made." Many of us who watched that port-starboard incident thought it was a call that could have gone either way, but that's part of the game. You live with it and you sail.
Now here's a thought. After the vagaries of Race 2, BMW Oracle navigator Peter Isler called it, "completely maddening to sail against someone who won't tack or gybe with you." Today, after the all-new, got-religion Torben sat on top of the white team all the way around the course (Andy Horton is in on the tactics aboard Luna Rossa; I'd better acknowledge that), I was wanting to ask Isler how he felt about that, but strategist Eric Doyle was thrown to the press instead. Doyle's take: "Today was more consistent, and they sailed as conditions dictated."
Numbers that matter
1
Number of races lost by New Zealand since April 28
0
Number of marks BMW Oracle has rounded ahead of Luna Rossa in the semis
3
Number of helmsmen showing up at the press conference
(We miss you, Chris)
Quote of the day
James Spithill, 27, helmsman, Luna Rossa, sailing in his third America's Cup, on losing a big lead—and Race 2—in the last few seconds before the finish:
"That was a tough one to swallow. A result like that could crumble some teams, but there is nothing you can do to change that result. The thing you can do is focus on the next race."
No racing on Thursday.
Friday, Race 4. Maybe further re-modes? Different sails. A different breeze?
Same writers. Oh well—Kimball
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Step into the Pundificatorium
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle, Race 2
Halfway up the first beat, the story begins:
If the designers of BMW Oracle have been bickering over who gets the credit for a fast boat, do they now start pointing fingers at who gets the blame? In semifinal-round configuration, USA-98 is showing me nothing against ITA-94, upwind in 10-12 knots. Luna Rossa looks like a pointing machine, but with shifts on the course it's not an easy read. Maybe I'd better just call it even, which doesn't fit the hype and the huge media buy-in. Mr. BMW Oracle Racing Machine, is this all you got? Some of my colleagues will start burning the back issues of their blogs, the ones where you've already been coronated. And that start by James Spithill, wielding Luna Rossa like a master dueler with a magic blade . . .
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle, Race 2
Two-thirds down the first run, the story begins:
Torben, Torben, you're a dog that hunts. What are you doing in that patch of the woods? Oracle's over yonder, and she's making trees.
This BMW Oracle boat in semifinal configuration shows a tweak of the sled downwind. We've seen the boat stall (easily). We can be pretty sure she doesn't have much grip on the water, and the water doesn't have much grip on her. Small rudder? We're not speed testing here. Compared to the dice game of race one this breeze looks stable, but it's not, baby, it's not. The tacticians are earning their day's pay and I couldn't help noticing that the mark-one spinnaker set was cleaner on Oracle. In fact, every element of the crew work looks good. They trailed by 58 seconds at the top mark, but I don't think anybody's rattled. Big gains late in the downwind compress the delta to 20 seconds at the gate . . .
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle, Race 2
Halfway up the second beat, the story begins:
OK, Torben Grael, five-time Olympic medalist and tactician for Luna Rossa, you called a textbook covering tack for your boy Spithill coming out of the gate. Early on, you bounced Dickson and company back to the left every time they tried to break right, and it's an oscillating breeze with oddments mixed in, and now you've left them loose on the left and there's way doggies more than half a mile of separation. You have the strength of your convictions, but so does Gavin Brady, doing your job over on Oracle, and the Oracle boat itself is looking stronger than it did on the first beat. I take all of it back, that stuff I said; if both boats are re-moded for the semis we still have a lot to learn.
But we have to come back together eventually, don't we. And lordy lordy forget about the leverage of splitting by more than half a mile, we're coming back together overlapped. Here's Dickson on port going for the duck and Spithill wheeling around to sit on his face as Dickson turns for the tack and, whoops, that becomes the equivalent of a dialup, doesn't it? Dangerously close for the boat on the right and that's you, Mr. Dickson, as both boats scrub speed . . . trying to keep control . . . ready to make the escape now . . . and here's Luna Rossa getting away with BMW Oracle deep bow-down and no speed (are they stalled again?) and building speed slowly so the Italian boat leads around the second weather mark by 14 seconds and gybe-sets but—they're ragged—the spinnaker set is slowslowslow and Oracle's spinnaker fills at the same instant and Luna Rossa drags a jib in the water while the white team is ticking like a fine watch. Girard-Perregaux?
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle, Race 2
Approaching the finish, the story begins:
The breeze is deteriorating. Down to 13 knots, then 11. BMW Oracle is close to Luna Rossa and working low, then working up, then low. They can't go over the top because Spithill will carry them off the racecourse and dump them in the boonies. They can't go under the bottom either, because that never works. Then they're taking Luna Rossa high. Up. Up. Up. And wiggling back down. And wait. Luna Rossa doesn't have one single piece of their wind. This is impossible but—Oracle is through. You can see the boat accelerate. They've gone from behind and blocked to ahead and clear. They're winning race two and tying the series at one-all in an amazing comeback that has to demoralize the opposition no matter how good a game face they put on. There is no one aboard BMW Oracle that wasn't already one of the best in the world when they signed on. They've worked hard for years. Obsessively. They've used the time well. I've said it before. They are one intimidating opponent.
Luna Rossa is good. No, better than good. They could win this series (I'm not changing my bets). But no challenger team is as tough as BMW Oracle unless it's the Kiwis, and that has yet to be fully tested. Remember the movie line? "Come back here, I'll bite your ankles off!"
You can analyze the unknowns upside down and sideways, but BMW Oracle is the king of comebacks in the 2007 Louis Vuitton Cup. Luna Rossa, you can run, but you can't hide. At the finish line, Larry Ellison is thumping people on the back and the adjective "happy" seems to apply.
Which Means
It's never over till it's over. People always try to come to conclusions too soon. It's not about one leg or one condition or one race. It's about winning five races no matter what the conditions and never giving up no matter how ugly it looks and now, for these two boats, it's about winning four more.
"Hard on the heart" is how BMW Oracle navigator Peter Isler described it.
Here's "Pedro" on winning:
You have to have comeback ability to win the America's Cup.
On Torben Grael's tactics:
It's completely maddening to sail against someone who won't tack or gybe with you [he didn't seem completely maddened as he said it: Ed] but when you have a big delta, like we had today, it can be good to split. Certainly our closure on the first downwind leg made the race for us.
On BMW Oracle's speed:
You try to come into the semis with the fastest boat you can get. We're happy to go racing tomorrow with the same boat we sailed today.
On the many observations that BMW Oracle made huge downwind gains, and is she just plain faster downwind?
Boat speed is in play, but we have been using the runs well. In the conditions we've sailed in, there have been many opportunities for the trailing boat to look superfast.
And here is Michele Ivaldi, Isler's counterpart on Luna Rossa, on the many observations that BMW Oracle made huge downwind gains:
They have been gaining from behind, downwind, in both of our races. I think it is a feature of the race area that the boat behind has life easer. You can't close that much advantage on boatspeed alone. On the first run they got two or three really good puffs that made our job harder.
On re-moding a boat during the semis:
I would not be in a hurry to make big changes.
On letting USA-98 slip through in the final seconds to the finish:
We were late to respond. We paid a lot.
On the racecourse:
The claim that the seabreeze in Valencia is stable is misleading.
Finish line delta: 00:13.
A final note: I talked to the top three designers of BMW Oracle(another day for the details) and found no differences among them and no bickering over where credit is due; my colleague Angus Phillips of The Washington Post, however, stumbled into a different story. Thus my comment in the opening paragraph. But that is his story, not mine.
In the other race Emirates Team New Zealand again did its thing to take a 40-second win off Desafio Espanol. Anything can happen, but the likelihood is that something very much like that will happen in Race 3, on Wednesday. You sure can't say the same about the Luna Rossa-BMW Oracle match, now can you? This is good stuff.
©Chris Cameron/ETNZ
On Shore
It was homies day for many of us here, with visitors showing up from San Francisco Bay. Something like 150 people traveling aboard a square rigger on St. Francis Yacht Club's commodore's cruise were passing through Valencia this week. A few of them ran into Paul Cayard at Port America's Cup.
And there was a huge contingent from Golden Gate Yacht Club, the Challenger of Record.
Here's Norbert Bajurin, staff commodore of Golden Gate Yacht Club and laison to the racing team. The GGYC visitors had a big day at the base and on the water, watching their team in its come-from-behind win. The trip is especially meaningful for Andrew and Jennifer Stewart—for them, this week in Valencia is a honeymoon. At the dockout for the BMW Oracle boats, all eyes were on the docks.
BMW Oracle hospitality is unsurpassed and the Moet is very good, but sometimes you need a helpful vantage point.
I was at Golden Gate YC last year for a fundraiser for the junior program, and the energy and enthusiasm in the room was incredible. The team was auctioning off team shirts signed by sailors, and they were going like hot cakes at $600 per. For the junior program, remember. As Norbert said, the association with Larry Ellison's challenge, "has really invigorated the club."
Yep, I was there. I'm a believer.
Halfway up the first beat, the story begins:
If the designers of BMW Oracle have been bickering over who gets the credit for a fast boat, do they now start pointing fingers at who gets the blame? In semifinal-round configuration, USA-98 is showing me nothing against ITA-94, upwind in 10-12 knots. Luna Rossa looks like a pointing machine, but with shifts on the course it's not an easy read. Maybe I'd better just call it even, which doesn't fit the hype and the huge media buy-in. Mr. BMW Oracle Racing Machine, is this all you got? Some of my colleagues will start burning the back issues of their blogs, the ones where you've already been coronated. And that start by James Spithill, wielding Luna Rossa like a master dueler with a magic blade . . .
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle, Race 2
Two-thirds down the first run, the story begins:
Torben, Torben, you're a dog that hunts. What are you doing in that patch of the woods? Oracle's over yonder, and she's making trees.
This BMW Oracle boat in semifinal configuration shows a tweak of the sled downwind. We've seen the boat stall (easily). We can be pretty sure she doesn't have much grip on the water, and the water doesn't have much grip on her. Small rudder? We're not speed testing here. Compared to the dice game of race one this breeze looks stable, but it's not, baby, it's not. The tacticians are earning their day's pay and I couldn't help noticing that the mark-one spinnaker set was cleaner on Oracle. In fact, every element of the crew work looks good. They trailed by 58 seconds at the top mark, but I don't think anybody's rattled. Big gains late in the downwind compress the delta to 20 seconds at the gate . . .
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle, Race 2
Halfway up the second beat, the story begins:
OK, Torben Grael, five-time Olympic medalist and tactician for Luna Rossa, you called a textbook covering tack for your boy Spithill coming out of the gate. Early on, you bounced Dickson and company back to the left every time they tried to break right, and it's an oscillating breeze with oddments mixed in, and now you've left them loose on the left and there's way doggies more than half a mile of separation. You have the strength of your convictions, but so does Gavin Brady, doing your job over on Oracle, and the Oracle boat itself is looking stronger than it did on the first beat. I take all of it back, that stuff I said; if both boats are re-moded for the semis we still have a lot to learn.
But we have to come back together eventually, don't we. And lordy lordy forget about the leverage of splitting by more than half a mile, we're coming back together overlapped. Here's Dickson on port going for the duck and Spithill wheeling around to sit on his face as Dickson turns for the tack and, whoops, that becomes the equivalent of a dialup, doesn't it? Dangerously close for the boat on the right and that's you, Mr. Dickson, as both boats scrub speed . . . trying to keep control . . . ready to make the escape now . . . and here's Luna Rossa getting away with BMW Oracle deep bow-down and no speed (are they stalled again?) and building speed slowly so the Italian boat leads around the second weather mark by 14 seconds and gybe-sets but—they're ragged—the spinnaker set is slowslowslow and Oracle's spinnaker fills at the same instant and Luna Rossa drags a jib in the water while the white team is ticking like a fine watch. Girard-Perregaux?
Luna Rossa vs. BMW Oracle, Race 2
Approaching the finish, the story begins:
The breeze is deteriorating. Down to 13 knots, then 11. BMW Oracle is close to Luna Rossa and working low, then working up, then low. They can't go over the top because Spithill will carry them off the racecourse and dump them in the boonies. They can't go under the bottom either, because that never works. Then they're taking Luna Rossa high. Up. Up. Up. And wiggling back down. And wait. Luna Rossa doesn't have one single piece of their wind. This is impossible but—Oracle is through. You can see the boat accelerate. They've gone from behind and blocked to ahead and clear. They're winning race two and tying the series at one-all in an amazing comeback that has to demoralize the opposition no matter how good a game face they put on. There is no one aboard BMW Oracle that wasn't already one of the best in the world when they signed on. They've worked hard for years. Obsessively. They've used the time well. I've said it before. They are one intimidating opponent.
Luna Rossa is good. No, better than good. They could win this series (I'm not changing my bets). But no challenger team is as tough as BMW Oracle unless it's the Kiwis, and that has yet to be fully tested. Remember the movie line? "Come back here, I'll bite your ankles off!"
You can analyze the unknowns upside down and sideways, but BMW Oracle is the king of comebacks in the 2007 Louis Vuitton Cup. Luna Rossa, you can run, but you can't hide. At the finish line, Larry Ellison is thumping people on the back and the adjective "happy" seems to apply.
Which Means
It's never over till it's over. People always try to come to conclusions too soon. It's not about one leg or one condition or one race. It's about winning five races no matter what the conditions and never giving up no matter how ugly it looks and now, for these two boats, it's about winning four more.
"Hard on the heart" is how BMW Oracle navigator Peter Isler described it.
Here's "Pedro" on winning:
You have to have comeback ability to win the America's Cup.
On Torben Grael's tactics:
It's completely maddening to sail against someone who won't tack or gybe with you [he didn't seem completely maddened as he said it: Ed] but when you have a big delta, like we had today, it can be good to split. Certainly our closure on the first downwind leg made the race for us.
On BMW Oracle's speed:
You try to come into the semis with the fastest boat you can get. We're happy to go racing tomorrow with the same boat we sailed today.
On the many observations that BMW Oracle made huge downwind gains, and is she just plain faster downwind?
Boat speed is in play, but we have been using the runs well. In the conditions we've sailed in, there have been many opportunities for the trailing boat to look superfast.
And here is Michele Ivaldi, Isler's counterpart on Luna Rossa, on the many observations that BMW Oracle made huge downwind gains:
They have been gaining from behind, downwind, in both of our races. I think it is a feature of the race area that the boat behind has life easer. You can't close that much advantage on boatspeed alone. On the first run they got two or three really good puffs that made our job harder.
On re-moding a boat during the semis:
I would not be in a hurry to make big changes.
On letting USA-98 slip through in the final seconds to the finish:
We were late to respond. We paid a lot.
On the racecourse:
The claim that the seabreeze in Valencia is stable is misleading.
Finish line delta: 00:13.
A final note: I talked to the top three designers of BMW Oracle(another day for the details) and found no differences among them and no bickering over where credit is due; my colleague Angus Phillips of The Washington Post, however, stumbled into a different story. Thus my comment in the opening paragraph. But that is his story, not mine.
In the other race Emirates Team New Zealand again did its thing to take a 40-second win off Desafio Espanol. Anything can happen, but the likelihood is that something very much like that will happen in Race 3, on Wednesday. You sure can't say the same about the Luna Rossa-BMW Oracle match, now can you? This is good stuff.
©Chris Cameron/ETNZ
On Shore
It was homies day for many of us here, with visitors showing up from San Francisco Bay. Something like 150 people traveling aboard a square rigger on St. Francis Yacht Club's commodore's cruise were passing through Valencia this week. A few of them ran into Paul Cayard at Port America's Cup.
And there was a huge contingent from Golden Gate Yacht Club, the Challenger of Record.
Here's Norbert Bajurin, staff commodore of Golden Gate Yacht Club and laison to the racing team. The GGYC visitors had a big day at the base and on the water, watching their team in its come-from-behind win. The trip is especially meaningful for Andrew and Jennifer Stewart—for them, this week in Valencia is a honeymoon. At the dockout for the BMW Oracle boats, all eyes were on the docks.
BMW Oracle hospitality is unsurpassed and the Moet is very good, but sometimes you need a helpful vantage point.
I was at Golden Gate YC last year for a fundraiser for the junior program, and the energy and enthusiasm in the room was incredible. The team was auctioning off team shirts signed by sailors, and they were going like hot cakes at $600 per. For the junior program, remember. As Norbert said, the association with Larry Ellison's challenge, "has really invigorated the club."
Yep, I was there. I'm a believer.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Ankle Deep in Rose Petals
Not speaking of anybody I know personally, though Luna Rossa boss Patrizio Bertelli looked to be rolling in the clover on Monday after a wire-to-wire win off BMW Oracle in squirrel-cage conditions. Bertelli doesn't ride very often, and he chose the day, so far, to ride as 18th man.
The rose petal riff has to do with Sunday's festival of la Virgen de los Desamparados and we'll get to that much later. I'm pretty sure that Oracle skipper Chris Dickson wasn't feeling like a virgin at the end of yesterday's thumping. Yes, the racecourse was as squirrely as they come, but Luna Rossa and Oracle were lined up for a long time leaving the start line in 10 knots, more or less, and if Dickson was counting to win this one on boatspeed, there was no there there.
The 00:43 win of Emirates Team New Zealand over Desafío Español was pretty much as-expected and by the book, so let's get that out of the way first. Dean Barker on the Kiwi boat got the side of the course that he wanted and caught a few shifts, claimed the lead, and protected that lead to the finish. With tactician Terry Hutchinson riding shotgun, it was a workmanlike performance, right out of the textbook, but they had to do it on a racetrack where there was no book.
©Chris Cameron/ETNZ
20-degree shifts? We had a passle of'em. 35-degree shifts? We had at least one. 5-knot differentials in wind strength across the course? Piece of cake. A gradient wind blowing from the land, across the city, all chopped up, and the sea breeze banging in late in the race, so that even though the line has been moved, three of the four boats out there go from spinnakers to jibs to beat to the finish? That was race day one of the semifinal round of the 2007 Louis Vuitton Cup.
Not once did Barker/Hutchinson deviate from the playbook of staying between the opponent and the next mark. Karol Jablonski's Spanish team, meanwhile, kept them honest, made them earn the win, and did the B-fleet proud in the prestart. As navigator Matt Wachowicz put it, "We know we're the underdog, but every day we go out expecting to win."
OK, the race. Once again USA 98 proved that she can sail in from the port end of the line and cross her opponent. ITA-94 turned to follow, and it was good fun to watch Dickson lead James Spithill into the spectator fleet for a bit of circling. I should rephrase that. Here's Oracle navigator Peter Isler: "We didn't go to the spectator fleet; the current brought them to us." So the gang on the Shosholoza spectator boat got a treat. But it was startling to see Dickson (not for the first time) spin hard and stall. Obviously there is not much boat gripping the water.
With a 10 degree right shift popping in, and 3-knot variations in the breeze, and a current running right-to-left, it was not a day to trust your computer to read out the burn time—time to the start line—and it was, instead, a day to trust your eyeballs and the seat of your pants. On that, I'd call it even. The boats hit the line together on starboard, with BMW Oracle to weather, and they headed off to the Left Forty. It looked as if Dickson and company were planning to carry Spithill out beyond the port-tack layline and hang them out to dry. There were small shifts favoring one boat or the other, but nothing much in the boatspeed. The layline prospect was there, Isler said, until a 15-degree left shift rearranged the geometry: "It was fortunate for Luna Rossa that the shift came when it did. We were less than a minute to the layline, but the leftie gave them room to tack. We were still feeling pretty strong on them when we went underneath, but there were microclimates out there and Luna Rossa got into this private windstreak—you could see the dark line on the water—that was like a line of tape on the floor."
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
It was Luna Rossa over Oracle by 00:52 rounding the first mark . . .
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
But they split going downwind and arrived overlapped at the leeward gate. The split occasioned quite a bit of tongue-wagging re. Luna Rossa tactician Torben Grael. You could charge him for failing to cover, or you could just figure that it's hard to argue with five Olympic medals, or you could let him argue his own case: "On a day like this, your normal match-race style of covering could go wrong. Playing the shifts and the pressure is pretty important."
But, Torben, you probably noticed that USA-98 went from 1:21 behind to overlapped? "We gybed for the angle, and they stayed for the pressure."
There was a lot of talk about comparisons: The Kiwis covering tightly as they could; Luna Rossa playing it loose . . .
I mean, during this race, there were 300-meter gains and losses in a matter of minutes. (!)
Coming to the gate, Dickson rolled in with starboard-tack rights. Luna Rossa gybed to starboard (no good options). Dickson made an aggressive move to carry Spithill past the layline. It was a high-pressure moment on both boats, but Spithill broke the overlap in time to turn and go for the favored, left mark. Rewrite the overlap, and you have a different race. Dickson was forced to either follow around the left mark or sail an extra 3-4 lengths to round the right-hand mark.
Quote Unquote Peter Isler
On not following Spithill around the mark that was closer . . .
We would have rounded four lengths behind; maybe it would have been more of a dogfight, but it wasn't a day when you could say that the left side or the right side was going to be better. On a day like this, all of a sudden, boatspeed is out the window and it's all down to the sailors.
On rounding the second weather mark trailing by 1:21 . . .
We were actually quite interested in the race. We were looking at a Star boat a long ways off with no breeze and thinking that maybe things were going to fall apart completely.
On that dicey game at the gate . . .
That put a lot of pressure on the crew, and both teams came through.
Finish line delta: 02:19
So: Tuesday, Race 2. First to win five races moves on. The loser goes home. BMW Oracle needs to win if only to save the chattering classes from an unsurvivable orgy of speculation. If you missed any part of that I could go back over it more slowly
Gather ye rose petals while ye may
It may have been Mothers' Day to you, but Sunday to the Valencianos was the annual festival of la Virgin de los Desamparados. Being clueless until the thing was all over, I missed the dramatic procession of the statue of the virgin, the traslado, in which "the lady of the forsaken" is carried from the basilica to the cathedral under a storm of flower petals. I did catch a different part of the procession, which goes on for more than an hour.
The streets were lined with chairs. Uh oh. Everybody's looking at me . . .
Everybody's looking at me ! ! !
The flag is ancient . . .
Of course there's no point getting the girls dressed up if we don't have family picture time. Young man, this is no time for your antics . . .
In my day . . .
Later, along the Calle Caballeros, I found the rose petals . . .
And the rose petal hoarders . . .
Quick! Before the petal eater comes . . .
It's not too late! There's more . . .
Lots more . . .
And why rush? We'll go home when we're good and ready . . .
Enough for now—Kimball
The rose petal riff has to do with Sunday's festival of la Virgen de los Desamparados and we'll get to that much later. I'm pretty sure that Oracle skipper Chris Dickson wasn't feeling like a virgin at the end of yesterday's thumping. Yes, the racecourse was as squirrely as they come, but Luna Rossa and Oracle were lined up for a long time leaving the start line in 10 knots, more or less, and if Dickson was counting to win this one on boatspeed, there was no there there.
The 00:43 win of Emirates Team New Zealand over Desafío Español was pretty much as-expected and by the book, so let's get that out of the way first. Dean Barker on the Kiwi boat got the side of the course that he wanted and caught a few shifts, claimed the lead, and protected that lead to the finish. With tactician Terry Hutchinson riding shotgun, it was a workmanlike performance, right out of the textbook, but they had to do it on a racetrack where there was no book.
©Chris Cameron/ETNZ
20-degree shifts? We had a passle of'em. 35-degree shifts? We had at least one. 5-knot differentials in wind strength across the course? Piece of cake. A gradient wind blowing from the land, across the city, all chopped up, and the sea breeze banging in late in the race, so that even though the line has been moved, three of the four boats out there go from spinnakers to jibs to beat to the finish? That was race day one of the semifinal round of the 2007 Louis Vuitton Cup.
Not once did Barker/Hutchinson deviate from the playbook of staying between the opponent and the next mark. Karol Jablonski's Spanish team, meanwhile, kept them honest, made them earn the win, and did the B-fleet proud in the prestart. As navigator Matt Wachowicz put it, "We know we're the underdog, but every day we go out expecting to win."
OK, the race. Once again USA 98 proved that she can sail in from the port end of the line and cross her opponent. ITA-94 turned to follow, and it was good fun to watch Dickson lead James Spithill into the spectator fleet for a bit of circling. I should rephrase that. Here's Oracle navigator Peter Isler: "We didn't go to the spectator fleet; the current brought them to us." So the gang on the Shosholoza spectator boat got a treat. But it was startling to see Dickson (not for the first time) spin hard and stall. Obviously there is not much boat gripping the water.
With a 10 degree right shift popping in, and 3-knot variations in the breeze, and a current running right-to-left, it was not a day to trust your computer to read out the burn time—time to the start line—and it was, instead, a day to trust your eyeballs and the seat of your pants. On that, I'd call it even. The boats hit the line together on starboard, with BMW Oracle to weather, and they headed off to the Left Forty. It looked as if Dickson and company were planning to carry Spithill out beyond the port-tack layline and hang them out to dry. There were small shifts favoring one boat or the other, but nothing much in the boatspeed. The layline prospect was there, Isler said, until a 15-degree left shift rearranged the geometry: "It was fortunate for Luna Rossa that the shift came when it did. We were less than a minute to the layline, but the leftie gave them room to tack. We were still feeling pretty strong on them when we went underneath, but there were microclimates out there and Luna Rossa got into this private windstreak—you could see the dark line on the water—that was like a line of tape on the floor."
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
It was Luna Rossa over Oracle by 00:52 rounding the first mark . . .
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
But they split going downwind and arrived overlapped at the leeward gate. The split occasioned quite a bit of tongue-wagging re. Luna Rossa tactician Torben Grael. You could charge him for failing to cover, or you could just figure that it's hard to argue with five Olympic medals, or you could let him argue his own case: "On a day like this, your normal match-race style of covering could go wrong. Playing the shifts and the pressure is pretty important."
But, Torben, you probably noticed that USA-98 went from 1:21 behind to overlapped? "We gybed for the angle, and they stayed for the pressure."
There was a lot of talk about comparisons: The Kiwis covering tightly as they could; Luna Rossa playing it loose . . .
I mean, during this race, there were 300-meter gains and losses in a matter of minutes. (!)
Coming to the gate, Dickson rolled in with starboard-tack rights. Luna Rossa gybed to starboard (no good options). Dickson made an aggressive move to carry Spithill past the layline. It was a high-pressure moment on both boats, but Spithill broke the overlap in time to turn and go for the favored, left mark. Rewrite the overlap, and you have a different race. Dickson was forced to either follow around the left mark or sail an extra 3-4 lengths to round the right-hand mark.
Quote Unquote Peter Isler
On not following Spithill around the mark that was closer . . .
We would have rounded four lengths behind; maybe it would have been more of a dogfight, but it wasn't a day when you could say that the left side or the right side was going to be better. On a day like this, all of a sudden, boatspeed is out the window and it's all down to the sailors.
On rounding the second weather mark trailing by 1:21 . . .
We were actually quite interested in the race. We were looking at a Star boat a long ways off with no breeze and thinking that maybe things were going to fall apart completely.
On that dicey game at the gate . . .
That put a lot of pressure on the crew, and both teams came through.
Finish line delta: 02:19
So: Tuesday, Race 2. First to win five races moves on. The loser goes home. BMW Oracle needs to win if only to save the chattering classes from an unsurvivable orgy of speculation. If you missed any part of that I could go back over it more slowly
Gather ye rose petals while ye may
It may have been Mothers' Day to you, but Sunday to the Valencianos was the annual festival of la Virgin de los Desamparados. Being clueless until the thing was all over, I missed the dramatic procession of the statue of the virgin, the traslado, in which "the lady of the forsaken" is carried from the basilica to the cathedral under a storm of flower petals. I did catch a different part of the procession, which goes on for more than an hour.
The streets were lined with chairs. Uh oh. Everybody's looking at me . . .
Everybody's looking at me ! ! !
The flag is ancient . . .
Of course there's no point getting the girls dressed up if we don't have family picture time. Young man, this is no time for your antics . . .
In my day . . .
Later, along the Calle Caballeros, I found the rose petals . . .
And the rose petal hoarders . . .
Quick! Before the petal eater comes . . .
It's not too late! There's more . . .
Lots more . . .
And why rush? We'll go home when we're good and ready . . .
Enough for now—Kimball
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Got Your Cruel Shoes?
What a position. BMW Oracle has lost three races out of 20, and in each loss there was someone believing they threw the race. But we're beyond the silly season now. It's the semifinal round. In nine races or less, a strong challenger will be cut from the ranks, and I don't mean Desafio Espanol, overmatched against New Zealand. I mean either BMW Oracle or Luna Rossa.
It's no act of genius or courage to go with the majority and expect Oracle to emerge from these semifinals looking fast and fine. From the get-go I've expected to see Oracle and Emirates Team New Zealand duking it out at the end, fighting for the right to go against Alinghi. Nothing has changed my mind about that. But James Spithill is a match for anyone in the prestart. That alone is enough to make Luna Rossa an opponent to be reckoned with as Chris Dickson and company size-up their dance partner for the first-to-win-five match that starts Monday.
Twice now, Oracle has beaten Luna Rossa, once in a come-from-behind, which is the hard way to do it. But the Italian boat has been to the shed and it wasn't about the paint job. As far as I know, the canoe is the same, but otherwise there's a new ITA-94 hitting the line against USA 98. With Spithill on the helm and five-time Olympic medalist Torben Grael riding shotgun, backed up by the likes of Francesco de Angelis and Jonathan McKee, it means something to beat that boat. It means being BMW Oracle. I'm already looking forward to the finals against New Zealand, but I do believe that Chris Dickson and company will be living in interesting times, meantimes.
New Zealand over Spain is as close to a done deal as you can get, but if Desafio Espanol gets out front and takes something off the Kiwis, the way they took a Round Robin 1 race off BMW Oracle, no one would be fool enough to suggest that Grant "no prisoners" Dalton asked his boys to lay down. With their opening day loss to Mascalzone Latino, helmsman Dean Barker and his American tactician, Terry Hutchinson, exposed themselves to some heavy criticism from down New Zealand way. Kiwi expectations are high and hopes are even higher.
Dalton, the round-the-world vet who is probably the only person who could have pulled the Kiwi team back together after the humiliations of 2003, is having none of this talk that Oracle is pre-ordained to challenge Alinghi for the America's Cup. It may happen, but first, there's the small matter of getting over Grant Dalton's dead body.
Away from it all
Not really, but I did get to catch a few breaths of air outside the America's Cup Beltway. There was a journo invitation to go to the racetrack outside of town to test the new Ford Mondeo, and I'm a sucker for anything I haven't done before, so you know what happened next.
What's wrong with this picture? Three things. One, the stands are empty. This all happened so suddenly that the fans got cheated. Two, we're in a Ford Mondeo, an OK means of conveyance, no doubt, but not the car in my dream that I get to drive on a racetrack. Three, the guy in front of us is hitting his brakes fer friggin' sakes!
You're right, that's the view from the passenger seat. I ran three laps ("Truth is, Amory, I never take my own car that close to redline") and then turned the wheel over to Amory Ross. He's an East Coastie, but I'm OK with that. I'm liberal, to a degree.
Amory's a photographer. You've seen his stuff. For example, he shot the cover of the May issue of SAIL—Andrew Campbell in a Laser.
One of our group managed to overcook a turn in a fairly-dramatic fashion and get us all redflagged while Amory had the helm. I missed the action shot, but if you've seen one Ford Mondeo with the rubber off the rims, up to the axles in gravel, you've seen'em all. We also trialed a new, small Land Rover on an off-road course, up-hill and down-dale and through the water hazard. No pictures of that, either. We were laughing too hard. And on the way out—they were setting up for a big public event—we passed the paella kitchen. This is rice-growing country, and Valencia is the birthplace of paella. I knew that. Now I'm a true believer.
Domingo. Sunday. May 13.
Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers. I'm boycotting the skippers' press conference in favor of having a life. Besides, I walked out of the last press conference because they were wasting my time. Before I post, I'll scan the press releases to see if there's anything worth parroting . . .
Nope.
It will get better when somebody has blood on his hands. The Lounge, a short zip from my apartment in the old city, offers free internet wifi. Thanks to that, I spent this domingo exploring a couple of museums (free on Sunday, how nice), viewing paintings and armor from the 1300s and 1400s in the first, and modern stuff in the second.
It's yet another festival day in Valencia. In one plaza, that meant art projects for the kids. Young man, pay attention to your elders. It's all in the concentration.
In the Plaza de Virgins the crowds were out at 1 p.m. A lot was going on.
But 3 p.m. is so unfashionable, they even turn off the fountain. That's my little bike, 45 euros from China Team. It's a bit undersized, and the grips are way undersized, but it's right to have a bike I can afford to lose, and having it is like suddenly sprouting wings.
Hmm. Looks like there's going to be a parade. Do I go to the parade tonight or the bullfight? Or both. Wish you were here—Kimball
It's no act of genius or courage to go with the majority and expect Oracle to emerge from these semifinals looking fast and fine. From the get-go I've expected to see Oracle and Emirates Team New Zealand duking it out at the end, fighting for the right to go against Alinghi. Nothing has changed my mind about that. But James Spithill is a match for anyone in the prestart. That alone is enough to make Luna Rossa an opponent to be reckoned with as Chris Dickson and company size-up their dance partner for the first-to-win-five match that starts Monday.
Twice now, Oracle has beaten Luna Rossa, once in a come-from-behind, which is the hard way to do it. But the Italian boat has been to the shed and it wasn't about the paint job. As far as I know, the canoe is the same, but otherwise there's a new ITA-94 hitting the line against USA 98. With Spithill on the helm and five-time Olympic medalist Torben Grael riding shotgun, backed up by the likes of Francesco de Angelis and Jonathan McKee, it means something to beat that boat. It means being BMW Oracle. I'm already looking forward to the finals against New Zealand, but I do believe that Chris Dickson and company will be living in interesting times, meantimes.
New Zealand over Spain is as close to a done deal as you can get, but if Desafio Espanol gets out front and takes something off the Kiwis, the way they took a Round Robin 1 race off BMW Oracle, no one would be fool enough to suggest that Grant "no prisoners" Dalton asked his boys to lay down. With their opening day loss to Mascalzone Latino, helmsman Dean Barker and his American tactician, Terry Hutchinson, exposed themselves to some heavy criticism from down New Zealand way. Kiwi expectations are high and hopes are even higher.
Dalton, the round-the-world vet who is probably the only person who could have pulled the Kiwi team back together after the humiliations of 2003, is having none of this talk that Oracle is pre-ordained to challenge Alinghi for the America's Cup. It may happen, but first, there's the small matter of getting over Grant Dalton's dead body.
Away from it all
Not really, but I did get to catch a few breaths of air outside the America's Cup Beltway. There was a journo invitation to go to the racetrack outside of town to test the new Ford Mondeo, and I'm a sucker for anything I haven't done before, so you know what happened next.
What's wrong with this picture? Three things. One, the stands are empty. This all happened so suddenly that the fans got cheated. Two, we're in a Ford Mondeo, an OK means of conveyance, no doubt, but not the car in my dream that I get to drive on a racetrack. Three, the guy in front of us is hitting his brakes fer friggin' sakes!
You're right, that's the view from the passenger seat. I ran three laps ("Truth is, Amory, I never take my own car that close to redline") and then turned the wheel over to Amory Ross. He's an East Coastie, but I'm OK with that. I'm liberal, to a degree.
Amory's a photographer. You've seen his stuff. For example, he shot the cover of the May issue of SAIL—Andrew Campbell in a Laser.
One of our group managed to overcook a turn in a fairly-dramatic fashion and get us all redflagged while Amory had the helm. I missed the action shot, but if you've seen one Ford Mondeo with the rubber off the rims, up to the axles in gravel, you've seen'em all. We also trialed a new, small Land Rover on an off-road course, up-hill and down-dale and through the water hazard. No pictures of that, either. We were laughing too hard. And on the way out—they were setting up for a big public event—we passed the paella kitchen. This is rice-growing country, and Valencia is the birthplace of paella. I knew that. Now I'm a true believer.
Domingo. Sunday. May 13.
Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers. I'm boycotting the skippers' press conference in favor of having a life. Besides, I walked out of the last press conference because they were wasting my time. Before I post, I'll scan the press releases to see if there's anything worth parroting . . .Nope.
It will get better when somebody has blood on his hands. The Lounge, a short zip from my apartment in the old city, offers free internet wifi. Thanks to that, I spent this domingo exploring a couple of museums (free on Sunday, how nice), viewing paintings and armor from the 1300s and 1400s in the first, and modern stuff in the second.
It's yet another festival day in Valencia. In one plaza, that meant art projects for the kids. Young man, pay attention to your elders. It's all in the concentration.
In the Plaza de Virgins the crowds were out at 1 p.m. A lot was going on.
But 3 p.m. is so unfashionable, they even turn off the fountain. That's my little bike, 45 euros from China Team. It's a bit undersized, and the grips are way undersized, but it's right to have a bike I can afford to lose, and having it is like suddenly sprouting wings.
Hmm. Looks like there's going to be a parade. Do I go to the parade tonight or the bullfight? Or both. Wish you were here—Kimball
Friday, May 11, 2007
An Authentic Slow News Day
Unless you're frothing at the mouth for a report that none of the AC boats sailed on Friday, or that Luna Rossa and BMW Oracle boats, for example, remain nose-out of their sheds in view, I don't have much for you. I had imagined getting entirely away from this scene on Saturday. Instead there's a media offer to go out to the Formula One track for an introduction to a new Ford, and that sounds worth showing up for. If I were a jaded auto writer, it would be old hat, but I'm not that, so away we go . . .
Notice how I didn't waste a lot of your time?
Notice how I didn't waste a lot of your time?
Thursday, May 10, 2007
The Morning After
On the first day after the cut to the final four, two BMW Oracle boats sat in the shed while two Luna Rossa boats went sailing. Ask me later, much later, what that means.
To the best of my knowledge, neither of the boats in the other pairing of the semifinal eliminations, Emirates Team New Zealand nor Desafío Español, left the dock.
Each pairing races until somebody wins five. One dies. One lives and goes on to meet the other survivor in the finals.
Jesper Bank resigned as skipper of the German team (I know what that means) which announced a new boat a'building for United Internet Team Germany, but they did not seem clear about their path. Here's syndicate head Michael Scheeren: "The engagement of our sponsor is very much depending on the future venue, our sportive concept and the media interest which was not supported by the weather conditions in this Louis Vuitton Cup."
Which means, I think, that they have a sponsor (and therefore a team) if United Internet likes the outcome of the America's Cup match and the new defender's vision of the next round of play. But even if they lose United Internet as a sponsor, the team hopes to remain a part of the America's Cup industry, and they have a next boat under construction because the money is there to begin, and that's momentum of a sort, and you gotta take your best shot and . . .
Everyone who was at the press conference came away a bit confused, including at least one native German speaker, so don't expect me to parse this one out. Regular readers will know my penchant for the long way home. I think this quickie snapshot reflects the relevant data.
At Areva, the French team made some announcements too, but they were clear, even if they were not definite. According to the guy running the show, Stéphane Kandler, the future, "Does not depend only on me. I did the utmost of what I could do. I took enormous financial risks and now the team needs a strong supporter. And, to get to the next level, one needs a partner very quickly."
Loud and clear, Stéphane. I hope it clicks, and I hope to see your team sailing in Germany in August and San Francisco in September.
Thursday was slow around the Darsena, populated only by the hardiest or most driven survivors of last night's Louis Vuitton Cup party, an institution and a legend in the life of America's Cup sailors since 1983, when French Cup skipper Bruno Trouble' introduced the Louis Vuitton Cup as a competition for the challengers, to be awarded to the winner of the eliminations, the one that gets to race for the America's Cup.
The first Louis Vuitton Cup went to Australia II, the first challenger to ever take the Cup. And the inaugural Louis Vuitton Cup party (black tie, of course) was held that year in Newport at Hammersmith Farm (Jackie Kennedy's childhood home), which set the tone for all that followed. This year, after experiencing some difficulties with a location in the city, Louis Vuitton chose an old and previously derelict monastery or some such grand thingamajig up north of Valencia that presented an incredible logistical challenge. Just shuttling two thousand of Bruno's closest friends from Port America's Cup and back should have been challenge enough, but there was also the job of transforming a party scene that a few weeks ago included vast piles of rubble into a location worthy of the elegant Vuitton stamp. All the parts worth remembering were good.
And I know this is not a high energy entry, but dear reader, I got there and back. Yes, to those of you stuck in the rumor mill, there are legal issues between Louis Vuitton and America's Cup Management. No, I'm not researching the details. Frankly, I don't care. They do not affect the outcome of the next America's Cup match, which is what affects the next Louis Vuitton Cup. Bruno is a hero to my ilk; he has taken care of us through the years, and we don't forget. And I made it to China Team, and now I have a bike. It's Chinese, and the grips are a little small, but it's like suddenly having wings. Valencia, here I come—Kimball
To the best of my knowledge, neither of the boats in the other pairing of the semifinal eliminations, Emirates Team New Zealand nor Desafío Español, left the dock.
Each pairing races until somebody wins five. One dies. One lives and goes on to meet the other survivor in the finals.
Jesper Bank resigned as skipper of the German team (I know what that means) which announced a new boat a'building for United Internet Team Germany, but they did not seem clear about their path. Here's syndicate head Michael Scheeren: "The engagement of our sponsor is very much depending on the future venue, our sportive concept and the media interest which was not supported by the weather conditions in this Louis Vuitton Cup."
Which means, I think, that they have a sponsor (and therefore a team) if United Internet likes the outcome of the America's Cup match and the new defender's vision of the next round of play. But even if they lose United Internet as a sponsor, the team hopes to remain a part of the America's Cup industry, and they have a next boat under construction because the money is there to begin, and that's momentum of a sort, and you gotta take your best shot and . . .
Everyone who was at the press conference came away a bit confused, including at least one native German speaker, so don't expect me to parse this one out. Regular readers will know my penchant for the long way home. I think this quickie snapshot reflects the relevant data.
At Areva, the French team made some announcements too, but they were clear, even if they were not definite. According to the guy running the show, Stéphane Kandler, the future, "Does not depend only on me. I did the utmost of what I could do. I took enormous financial risks and now the team needs a strong supporter. And, to get to the next level, one needs a partner very quickly."
Loud and clear, Stéphane. I hope it clicks, and I hope to see your team sailing in Germany in August and San Francisco in September.
Thursday was slow around the Darsena, populated only by the hardiest or most driven survivors of last night's Louis Vuitton Cup party, an institution and a legend in the life of America's Cup sailors since 1983, when French Cup skipper Bruno Trouble' introduced the Louis Vuitton Cup as a competition for the challengers, to be awarded to the winner of the eliminations, the one that gets to race for the America's Cup.
The first Louis Vuitton Cup went to Australia II, the first challenger to ever take the Cup. And the inaugural Louis Vuitton Cup party (black tie, of course) was held that year in Newport at Hammersmith Farm (Jackie Kennedy's childhood home), which set the tone for all that followed. This year, after experiencing some difficulties with a location in the city, Louis Vuitton chose an old and previously derelict monastery or some such grand thingamajig up north of Valencia that presented an incredible logistical challenge. Just shuttling two thousand of Bruno's closest friends from Port America's Cup and back should have been challenge enough, but there was also the job of transforming a party scene that a few weeks ago included vast piles of rubble into a location worthy of the elegant Vuitton stamp. All the parts worth remembering were good.
And I know this is not a high energy entry, but dear reader, I got there and back. Yes, to those of you stuck in the rumor mill, there are legal issues between Louis Vuitton and America's Cup Management. No, I'm not researching the details. Frankly, I don't care. They do not affect the outcome of the next America's Cup match, which is what affects the next Louis Vuitton Cup. Bruno is a hero to my ilk; he has taken care of us through the years, and we don't forget. And I made it to China Team, and now I have a bike. It's Chinese, and the grips are a little small, but it's like suddenly having wings. Valencia, here I come—Kimball
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Beautiful, and cruel
What can get lost in all the talk and hype and naval-gazing of an America's Cup is that everyone here is living an intense experience. Even just scribbling, it's true for me, but it is far more the case for the people on the teams. There's a madness to it. Nobody keeps office hours. It's a life that you live day and night. Dennis Conner made the phrase famous, "the commitment to the commitment." Something of that is demanded of all who tread here, and then there are the moments when you remember why you do it. Some of those happen on the water. One of those moments happened for me ashore, at the Victory Challenge compound the night after the Swedes were eliminated, and there was my homie Morgan Larson giving me a lighthearted ration because I had given his team a lighthearted ration for their chase boat drop in front of Desafío Español --that I hadn't been clear enough that the move is legal, unless it's done as a tactical assault.
Well, part of my point was that it almost looked like that, but Morgan and I didn't bother to work this through because we were both on a higher plane. Three years of striving on the part of Victory Challenge were coming to an end. Early mornings. Late nights. The drama of daring to try. With one more race to sail, everyone from skipper Magnus Holmberg to the sailmakers to the girl who sells Victory Challenge shirts in the shop were feeling the end of something large in their lives; images and memories they would carry forever.
There was a party on the roof of the Swedish compound that night, pre-scheduled to happen no matter what, to announce a new watch line by a sponsor, Corum. Sweden's hopes to make the final four had not survived their matchup on Tuesday with New Zealand, but the party would go on, even as a wake. These people never expected to win the America's Cup, but they almost made the final four. Holmberg said, "If we had known the result a year ago, we would have been pleased."
The stars were out over the coast of Spain, and the compounds around the harbor were blazing with lights—those buildings did not even exist the first time I came to Valencia; the harbor didn't exist as we see it now, and the America's Cup may never be back—and from the industrial harbor a ship was setting out to sea. On the stage, on the roof, for us, a girl was dancing Flamenco and she was not just a girl. She was a wonder. And there was a guitar, and a voice raised in song as ancient and exquisite as Spain herself, and it went on and it was good and it lifted us and carried us away, all of us there, the music and the dance and the girl so fiercely alive, a repudiation of everything ordinary.
Thank you, Victory Challenge.
Now Morgan goes back to racing his 49er on the Olympic trail and I show up on Thursday at China Team to buy a bike. It seems that, suddenly, China Team has more bikes than sailors. They had a bye on Wednesday, while everyone else went racing. China was this empty at 1030, when I went to look over the prospects on the bike rack.
Not that I'm planning to be there that early again. The Louis Vuitton Cup Party is tonight, and I reckon I have an obligation to you to be there to report.
Here is Mascalzone launching for her final race of the Louis Vuitton Cup. The Latin Rascals helped keep things lively around here, and they went out on a high note, with a 00:38 win over Victory on Wednesday. Those two were the first flight on the north course, and after they finished we were looking at four boats still racing, the four who will make up the fleet when semi-final eliminations racing kicks off.
Racing they went
James Spithill inflicted a painful sailing lesson upon Desafio helmsman Jesper Radich (thanks, sifler)in their prestart, locking the Spanish team out of the committee-boat end of the line under a thought bubble that read: Shoo. Shoo. You go over there, because I'm going to go over this way and sail a sailboat race. Bye Bye.
Luna Rossa over Desafío Español by 01:54.
And a lot went on in the prestart between Chris Dickson at the helm of BMW Oracle and Dean Barker on Emirates Team New Zealand. The match of the day. The two boats at the top, with top-dog honors for the Round Robins to the winner. Judging it as a boxing match with points awarded as the starting gun sounded, I'd say that these two started even, but Dickson got in more punches, and better punches, in the five-minute runup. BMW Oracle came in from the left end of the line and sailed across the bow of the Kiwi boat—you're not supposed to be able to do that, but they keep doing that—and it went from there.
From that even start, however, New Zealand tacked early to port while Oracle remained on starboard tack and dug a hole deep into the left corner.
Meanwhile, the breeze freshened and went right. Barker was on the right and looking right. For you nonsailors—a major windshift like that changes the angle that a boat can sail to the mark. The effect is as profound as if you could say, I want to pick up my boat, and put it down again, over here.
Race over, but they still had four legs to sail.
This was the leeward mark rounding. Oh dear.
Finish line delta: 01:34.
So, it was either a weather-team race, meaning that the Kiwi weather team won, or BMW Oracle just didn't want to show anything to the Kiwis, and Larry Ellison's guys were willing to give up first place (and the right to select an opponent for the semis) to protect their privacy. One of my British colleagues is sure of it. I'm not. But it sure was a strange split. Those boats weren't even in the same race.
Inside the America's Cup Beltway, you can't tie your shoe without inspiring a conspiracy theory.
New Zealand, having won the Round Robins, gets to choose its opponent for the semis. They choose Spain. First boat to win five races goes on, and the other is eliminated. Oracle will race Luna Rossa.
Dickson's take on the day:
"Hindsight is a wonderful thing."
Barker's take on the day:
"We thought we were looking at an even racecourse, but in the last five minutes before we entered [the start box] we received a very clear call from our weather team that they had changed their minds, and they wanted us to go right."
Now we take a little break, the first in a long, long while. But not the shore teams. It's time to re-mode the boats and bring out some new weapons. I'll stay with you through the break. There's always something cooking. The semifinal round of eliminations starts Monday. Wear your cruel shoes—Kimball
Well, part of my point was that it almost looked like that, but Morgan and I didn't bother to work this through because we were both on a higher plane. Three years of striving on the part of Victory Challenge were coming to an end. Early mornings. Late nights. The drama of daring to try. With one more race to sail, everyone from skipper Magnus Holmberg to the sailmakers to the girl who sells Victory Challenge shirts in the shop were feeling the end of something large in their lives; images and memories they would carry forever.
There was a party on the roof of the Swedish compound that night, pre-scheduled to happen no matter what, to announce a new watch line by a sponsor, Corum. Sweden's hopes to make the final four had not survived their matchup on Tuesday with New Zealand, but the party would go on, even as a wake. These people never expected to win the America's Cup, but they almost made the final four. Holmberg said, "If we had known the result a year ago, we would have been pleased."
The stars were out over the coast of Spain, and the compounds around the harbor were blazing with lights—those buildings did not even exist the first time I came to Valencia; the harbor didn't exist as we see it now, and the America's Cup may never be back—and from the industrial harbor a ship was setting out to sea. On the stage, on the roof, for us, a girl was dancing Flamenco and she was not just a girl. She was a wonder. And there was a guitar, and a voice raised in song as ancient and exquisite as Spain herself, and it went on and it was good and it lifted us and carried us away, all of us there, the music and the dance and the girl so fiercely alive, a repudiation of everything ordinary.
Thank you, Victory Challenge.
Now Morgan goes back to racing his 49er on the Olympic trail and I show up on Thursday at China Team to buy a bike. It seems that, suddenly, China Team has more bikes than sailors. They had a bye on Wednesday, while everyone else went racing. China was this empty at 1030, when I went to look over the prospects on the bike rack.
Not that I'm planning to be there that early again. The Louis Vuitton Cup Party is tonight, and I reckon I have an obligation to you to be there to report.
Here is Mascalzone launching for her final race of the Louis Vuitton Cup. The Latin Rascals helped keep things lively around here, and they went out on a high note, with a 00:38 win over Victory on Wednesday. Those two were the first flight on the north course, and after they finished we were looking at four boats still racing, the four who will make up the fleet when semi-final eliminations racing kicks off. Racing they went
James Spithill inflicted a painful sailing lesson upon Desafio helmsman Jesper Radich (thanks, sifler)in their prestart, locking the Spanish team out of the committee-boat end of the line under a thought bubble that read: Shoo. Shoo. You go over there, because I'm going to go over this way and sail a sailboat race. Bye Bye.
Luna Rossa over Desafío Español by 01:54.
And a lot went on in the prestart between Chris Dickson at the helm of BMW Oracle and Dean Barker on Emirates Team New Zealand. The match of the day. The two boats at the top, with top-dog honors for the Round Robins to the winner. Judging it as a boxing match with points awarded as the starting gun sounded, I'd say that these two started even, but Dickson got in more punches, and better punches, in the five-minute runup. BMW Oracle came in from the left end of the line and sailed across the bow of the Kiwi boat—you're not supposed to be able to do that, but they keep doing that—and it went from there.
From that even start, however, New Zealand tacked early to port while Oracle remained on starboard tack and dug a hole deep into the left corner.
Meanwhile, the breeze freshened and went right. Barker was on the right and looking right. For you nonsailors—a major windshift like that changes the angle that a boat can sail to the mark. The effect is as profound as if you could say, I want to pick up my boat, and put it down again, over here.
Race over, but they still had four legs to sail.
This was the leeward mark rounding. Oh dear.
Finish line delta: 01:34.
So, it was either a weather-team race, meaning that the Kiwi weather team won, or BMW Oracle just didn't want to show anything to the Kiwis, and Larry Ellison's guys were willing to give up first place (and the right to select an opponent for the semis) to protect their privacy. One of my British colleagues is sure of it. I'm not. But it sure was a strange split. Those boats weren't even in the same race.
Inside the America's Cup Beltway, you can't tie your shoe without inspiring a conspiracy theory.
New Zealand, having won the Round Robins, gets to choose its opponent for the semis. They choose Spain. First boat to win five races goes on, and the other is eliminated. Oracle will race Luna Rossa.
Dickson's take on the day:
"Hindsight is a wonderful thing."
Barker's take on the day:
"We thought we were looking at an even racecourse, but in the last five minutes before we entered [the start box] we received a very clear call from our weather team that they had changed their minds, and they wanted us to go right."
Now we take a little break, the first in a long, long while. But not the shore teams. It's time to re-mode the boats and bring out some new weapons. I'll stay with you through the break. There's always something cooking. The semifinal round of eliminations starts Monday. Wear your cruel shoes—Kimball
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
Hammered and Happy
I note in the online forums that there are people who disapprove of the 10,000-euro penalties imposed upon Mascalzone Latino for its two infractions—illegal paint, and backstay abuse. Well, guys, we're not in Kansas anymore. There's serious money on the table (and under the table) in Valencia, and America's Cup Management has placed its bets on keeping people in the game and hotting-up the game when they can. This is the America's Cup monetized. Only two things separate this event from Formula One auto racing: A time-proven revenue model (as in, returning sponsors, and maybe they're there, I just don't know) and a ticket price to get through the gate. But there are only two entrances to Port America's Cup, and everyone passes through security, so that last part wouldn't be hard to fix. I'm not saying what's right or wrong, I'm just telling you that you're welcome to your opinions, and they don't care.
Heh. That's a footnote that I moved to the top. In a blog, you can do anything you want. Today's blog begins . . .
On Channel 1 this week they're showing America's Cup footage every day on the morning news. Yes, in Spain there is a Channel 1. And every day they've been showing the Spanish boat, Desafío Español.
Not much else. Viva España.
If you were a Cup fanatic in Valencia trying to figure out what's going on by watching Channel 1, you'd be pretty frustrated.
If you were a Cup newcomer watching the celebration down at Desafío Español today—champagne spewing, crew tossed overboard—at the end of their hammering by BMW Oracle, you might be pretty confused unless you had the additional bit of intelligence that what they actually were celebrating was the defeat of Sweden's Victory Challenge by come-from-behind Emirates Team New Zealand. With that loss the Swedes are eliminated and Spain is confirmed as a member of the final four. Not a favorite to survive the semifinals, but alive.
As I learned in my days as a newspaperman, the local angle is everything.
And, nothing against the Swedish team eliminated today, but it will make the coming weeks more colorful to have a Spanish team to keep our national hosts involved.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
We still have racing on Wednesday, but Tuesday's loss to +39 was the last round for China Team, which draws a bye for the final flight. There's some interest in Luna Rossa vs. Desafío Español on Wednesday, but if the Spanish catch fire to survive the semi's nobody will be more surprised than they are. The action now is all BMW Oracle vs. New Zealand, a final matchup for the number one spot and the right to select an opponent for the semifinal round that starts on Monday. We're talking beady eyeballs.
Kudos
To Jes Gram-Hansen (starting helmsman, Mascalzone Latino) for some textbook punching in the start against wonderboy James Spithill (Luna Rossa). Perhaps the lesson here is, beware of those who have nothing to lose. Gram-Hansen got underneath Spithill early in the prestart, herded him over the line early—way early—and held him out there until the Mascalzone squad was ready to make an orderly gybe around the committee boat with a perfectly timed entry to the course on the side of their choice. That would have been the right-hand side, though at this point I must note that the left worked fine for Luna Rossa (which started not brilliantly but decently), rounding Mark 1 in front and staying in front.
To Mascalzone Latino for keeping things lively here in Valencia. Yeah, they got nailed on a couple of points where it was screwball to be vulnerable—a penalty for using an illegal paint, and a penalty for removing and reattaching a backstay while racing—but Vincenzo Onorato's Latin Rascals added real interest to the round robins, and with their race-one upset of New Zealand, they were anything but boring. Mainsail trimmer Marco Constant (a South African with an enviable resume—a veteran of the 1997-98 Whitbread win of EF Language and of Alinghi's Cup win, for example) figured that Luna Rossa got the smart side of the first beat and also slipped into its range as the breeze dropped below 12 knots. But despite a core consisting of the reining Farr 40 world champions, Mascalzone Latino was another team that came here with no expectations of lifting the Cup.
Quote Unquote Marco Constant
On raising the game in the challenger ranks . . .
We've been racing together and testing together since before the round robins started. There was a point where Prada realized we were capable of beating them, and that in itself probably upped their game.
On the difficulties of making a first-time challenge . . .
We made some fundamental mistakes a year ago, but the other side of it is the fact that the top teams were always going to be there. The only question was, how much could the other teams chip away at them. We left points on the table. We lost races we should have won. Against Areva, for example. That's how you lose a place in the final four.
On the future . . .
Sailing in the Acts we saw that starts were a weak point for us. That's when we brought in Jes Gram-Hansen. He has a killer instinct. That move he put on Spithill today—we have a name for it but I can't really mention it. I'd put Jes ahead of Spithill. And yes, I 'm pretty sure Vincenzo will come back [for another shot at the Cup].
For the record, I listened to two Kiwi versions of their start against Victory Challenge and never got a coherent explanation of what I'm pretty sure was the ugliest start by a top contender in 20 round robin races. It was not a good look.
+39 d. China Team 01:57
Areva Challenge d. United Internet Team Germany 00:35
Luna Rossa d. Mascalzone Latino Capitalia 00:07
Emirates Team New Zealand d. Victory Challenge 00:34
BMW Oracle Racing d. Desafío Español 00:55
Time for the beady eyeball parade—Kimball
Heh. That's a footnote that I moved to the top. In a blog, you can do anything you want. Today's blog begins . . .
On Channel 1 this week they're showing America's Cup footage every day on the morning news. Yes, in Spain there is a Channel 1. And every day they've been showing the Spanish boat, Desafío Español.
Not much else. Viva España.
If you were a Cup fanatic in Valencia trying to figure out what's going on by watching Channel 1, you'd be pretty frustrated.
If you were a Cup newcomer watching the celebration down at Desafío Español today—champagne spewing, crew tossed overboard—at the end of their hammering by BMW Oracle, you might be pretty confused unless you had the additional bit of intelligence that what they actually were celebrating was the defeat of Sweden's Victory Challenge by come-from-behind Emirates Team New Zealand. With that loss the Swedes are eliminated and Spain is confirmed as a member of the final four. Not a favorite to survive the semifinals, but alive.
As I learned in my days as a newspaperman, the local angle is everything.
And, nothing against the Swedish team eliminated today, but it will make the coming weeks more colorful to have a Spanish team to keep our national hosts involved.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
We still have racing on Wednesday, but Tuesday's loss to +39 was the last round for China Team, which draws a bye for the final flight. There's some interest in Luna Rossa vs. Desafío Español on Wednesday, but if the Spanish catch fire to survive the semi's nobody will be more surprised than they are. The action now is all BMW Oracle vs. New Zealand, a final matchup for the number one spot and the right to select an opponent for the semifinal round that starts on Monday. We're talking beady eyeballs.
Kudos
To Jes Gram-Hansen (starting helmsman, Mascalzone Latino) for some textbook punching in the start against wonderboy James Spithill (Luna Rossa). Perhaps the lesson here is, beware of those who have nothing to lose. Gram-Hansen got underneath Spithill early in the prestart, herded him over the line early—way early—and held him out there until the Mascalzone squad was ready to make an orderly gybe around the committee boat with a perfectly timed entry to the course on the side of their choice. That would have been the right-hand side, though at this point I must note that the left worked fine for Luna Rossa (which started not brilliantly but decently), rounding Mark 1 in front and staying in front.
To Mascalzone Latino for keeping things lively here in Valencia. Yeah, they got nailed on a couple of points where it was screwball to be vulnerable—a penalty for using an illegal paint, and a penalty for removing and reattaching a backstay while racing—but Vincenzo Onorato's Latin Rascals added real interest to the round robins, and with their race-one upset of New Zealand, they were anything but boring. Mainsail trimmer Marco Constant (a South African with an enviable resume—a veteran of the 1997-98 Whitbread win of EF Language and of Alinghi's Cup win, for example) figured that Luna Rossa got the smart side of the first beat and also slipped into its range as the breeze dropped below 12 knots. But despite a core consisting of the reining Farr 40 world champions, Mascalzone Latino was another team that came here with no expectations of lifting the Cup.
Quote Unquote Marco Constant
On raising the game in the challenger ranks . . .
We've been racing together and testing together since before the round robins started. There was a point where Prada realized we were capable of beating them, and that in itself probably upped their game.
On the difficulties of making a first-time challenge . . .
We made some fundamental mistakes a year ago, but the other side of it is the fact that the top teams were always going to be there. The only question was, how much could the other teams chip away at them. We left points on the table. We lost races we should have won. Against Areva, for example. That's how you lose a place in the final four.
On the future . . .
Sailing in the Acts we saw that starts were a weak point for us. That's when we brought in Jes Gram-Hansen. He has a killer instinct. That move he put on Spithill today—we have a name for it but I can't really mention it. I'd put Jes ahead of Spithill. And yes, I 'm pretty sure Vincenzo will come back [for another shot at the Cup].
For the record, I listened to two Kiwi versions of their start against Victory Challenge and never got a coherent explanation of what I'm pretty sure was the ugliest start by a top contender in 20 round robin races. It was not a good look.
+39 d. China Team 01:57
Areva Challenge d. United Internet Team Germany 00:35
Luna Rossa d. Mascalzone Latino Capitalia 00:07
Emirates Team New Zealand d. Victory Challenge 00:34
BMW Oracle Racing d. Desafío Español 00:55
Time for the beady eyeball parade—Kimball
Monday, May 7, 2007
Get Out of Jail Free
Why should "the best sailors in the world" have a get-out-of-jail-free card for crew screw-ups?
Victory Challenge pulled one of those "chase boat drops" on Monday, dumping 490 square meters of sail and associated strings in front of rival Desafío Español, and they did it suspiciously early in the rounding. We'd been watching the foredeck crew trying to catch up with some issues, but it's not as though they dragged the kite upwind and then dropped it as a last resort after paying the price.
The Spanish team popped a protest flag (having a spinnaker in the water in front of them probably dis-optimised their rounding) but they didn't file the protest and that's just as well. It didn't make or break their race, and how do you prove intent? Interpreting an incident like that is a Rorschach test.; an inkblot test. You are what you see.
Mind you, on these chase boat drops, I'm not scandalized. I don't do outrage well. I love sailboat racing more than anything, but in the end it's all horsefeathers, and these guys are welcome to set up their racing any way that works for them. Before the round robins opened, they agreed upon some additional rules regarding the exchange of right of way approaching a leeward gate (to fill in some gaps, they say, in existing ISAF rules). All well and good. They have chase boats, and so they have chase boat drops. But if sailing needs a dose of NASCAR (how many times have you had that conversation), can't you just imagine the footage when a drop goes haywire?
I'll get off this. I just want to make sure you heard me ask, why should "the best sailors in the world" have a get-out-of-jail-free card for crew screw-ups?
Muse of the day: At the America's Cup, sailing sounds like helicopters. Hope you don't mind the way I cropped it, Chris.
©Chris Cameron/Emirates Team New Zealand
Moving on. It was Victory's race on a day when they had to win. If they lose either of their races on Tuesday or Wednesday, they are mathematically eliminated from the final four. Sweden and Spain are the last two hopefuls for the fourth spot, and both face races against the top dogs. The odds are against both in those races, and yet, it was Desafío Español that handed BMW Oracle its only inflicted loss of the round robins (the loss to China Team was self-inflicted with gear failure).
If Desafío Español wins either of its races, they're locked into fourth, and they move on to the semis, where we wipe away the points and start all-new eliminations pairings. If neither wins another race, the Spanish remain ahead.
The boat on top of the leaderboard Wednesday night gets to choose its opponent for the semis. Everybody wants that spot. BMW Oracle has the points and the momentum, as of the last time I tested the breeze.
Victory Challenge grinder Ian Weighell offered some thoughts on the race and the series.
Quote Unquote Ian Weighell:
On the chase boat drop . . .
These are some pretty stressful situations.
On racing in a seabreeze . . .
In this range, 15 knots, if we can keep it tight, there are chances for us. Racing New Zealand on Tuesday is a real hurdle.
On the prospects . . .
The Spanish have to get one win, and we have to get two. The bonus points they carried out of the Acts just may hurt us, but we've known for years how the game works. Desafío Español deserves to be points ahead of us now. They've earned those points.
Elsewhere on the racecourse:
Chris Dickson on Oracle took his likely-bet win off Mascalzone Latino when some very nice, very close pre-start moves went wrong for Italy's starting helmsman Jes Gram-Hansen by about 1.1 seconds. You don't make a premature start, go back to restart, and then come back to pass the white team. That's the law. 00:57
Victory Challenge d. Desafío Español – fun to watch: 00:07
Areva d. China Team: 03:03
+39 d. Shosholoza: 00:50
Emirates Team New Zealand d. Luna Rossa Challenge: 00:36
And that's the other one that had everybody's attention. New Zealand strategist Ray Davies said, "It was mainly that Dean [Barker] did a good job in the prestart and pushed Luna Rossa, and we were able to win the first cross." On the upwind gains: "I don't think we had a straight-line speed edge, but there were a couple of tacks that we did better than they did. Without the advantage in the prestart, it would have been hard to pass."
©Chris Cameron/Emirates Team New Zealand
The starting situation presented quandaries, Davies added: "With the right side favored up the course, and the pin end [left] favored by 10 degrees, how much do you give up by going for one or the other? But both boats had the same game plan."
The opposition agreed that the outcome of the race was not dictated by boatspeed. American Jonathan McKee sails on Luna Rossa, and he saw the bigger, steadier breeze producing "a different kind of race from the light-air days."
Quote Unquote Jonathan McKee:
Compared to light air, shifts, and holes . . .
This was more bow-to-bow, not so much a wild card on the beat. If somebody had really been faster, that would have been it.
On taking a loss . . .
In the semis the races will be longer. It's not that this was an easy race for them, but on a short race the odds get better as you round the first mark first. This was about control. Positioning. A geometry game on a short course with a lot of time on starboard, and they were on the correct side.
On finishing the round robins in first place . . .
We don't have a realistic chance of that, but if you're not first, it doesn't matter whether you're second or fourth. The leader chooses an opponent based on their perception of who they want to race, and everyone here has a pretty good understanding of the strengths and weakness of the other teams.
Enough already. Here's parting thought numero uno:
On Sunday, after posting to the blog, and needing to psych up to write my interview of designer Juan K (you can find it at SAIL, I went out for a sunset walk that took me past Luna Rossa. And lo and behold, I had a rare sight'em, and it's only May. Picture escalators to carry the public up two flights of stairs to the entrance to the public area of Luna Rossa. Picture so many people trying to get in that there's a line, and at the foot of the escalator, there's a line manager. Sort of what you'd see at a nightclub where they allow only certain people in, or so many people at a time, which is what was happening here. And what's inside when you get there? A store. An opportunity to buy those 140 euro, Luna Rossa branded denim jeans I keep telling you about. If you want yours, you'd better hurry.
And parting thought numero dos: Do fish swim backwards in Spain?
In English, a favorite fish: tuna. In Spanish, the same fish: atún.
Now do something worthwhile. Go sailing. But not until you've contemplated the scale of the ACC boats, as captured here by our photogger of the day, Chris Cameron—Kimball
©Chris Cameron/Emirates Team New Zealand
Victory Challenge pulled one of those "chase boat drops" on Monday, dumping 490 square meters of sail and associated strings in front of rival Desafío Español, and they did it suspiciously early in the rounding. We'd been watching the foredeck crew trying to catch up with some issues, but it's not as though they dragged the kite upwind and then dropped it as a last resort after paying the price.
The Spanish team popped a protest flag (having a spinnaker in the water in front of them probably dis-optimised their rounding) but they didn't file the protest and that's just as well. It didn't make or break their race, and how do you prove intent? Interpreting an incident like that is a Rorschach test.; an inkblot test. You are what you see.
Mind you, on these chase boat drops, I'm not scandalized. I don't do outrage well. I love sailboat racing more than anything, but in the end it's all horsefeathers, and these guys are welcome to set up their racing any way that works for them. Before the round robins opened, they agreed upon some additional rules regarding the exchange of right of way approaching a leeward gate (to fill in some gaps, they say, in existing ISAF rules). All well and good. They have chase boats, and so they have chase boat drops. But if sailing needs a dose of NASCAR (how many times have you had that conversation), can't you just imagine the footage when a drop goes haywire?
I'll get off this. I just want to make sure you heard me ask, why should "the best sailors in the world" have a get-out-of-jail-free card for crew screw-ups?
Muse of the day: At the America's Cup, sailing sounds like helicopters. Hope you don't mind the way I cropped it, Chris.
©Chris Cameron/Emirates Team New Zealand
Moving on. It was Victory's race on a day when they had to win. If they lose either of their races on Tuesday or Wednesday, they are mathematically eliminated from the final four. Sweden and Spain are the last two hopefuls for the fourth spot, and both face races against the top dogs. The odds are against both in those races, and yet, it was Desafío Español that handed BMW Oracle its only inflicted loss of the round robins (the loss to China Team was self-inflicted with gear failure).
If Desafío Español wins either of its races, they're locked into fourth, and they move on to the semis, where we wipe away the points and start all-new eliminations pairings. If neither wins another race, the Spanish remain ahead.
The boat on top of the leaderboard Wednesday night gets to choose its opponent for the semis. Everybody wants that spot. BMW Oracle has the points and the momentum, as of the last time I tested the breeze.
Victory Challenge grinder Ian Weighell offered some thoughts on the race and the series.
Quote Unquote Ian Weighell:
On the chase boat drop . . .
These are some pretty stressful situations.
On racing in a seabreeze . . .
In this range, 15 knots, if we can keep it tight, there are chances for us. Racing New Zealand on Tuesday is a real hurdle.
On the prospects . . .
The Spanish have to get one win, and we have to get two. The bonus points they carried out of the Acts just may hurt us, but we've known for years how the game works. Desafío Español deserves to be points ahead of us now. They've earned those points.
Elsewhere on the racecourse:
Chris Dickson on Oracle took his likely-bet win off Mascalzone Latino when some very nice, very close pre-start moves went wrong for Italy's starting helmsman Jes Gram-Hansen by about 1.1 seconds. You don't make a premature start, go back to restart, and then come back to pass the white team. That's the law. 00:57
Victory Challenge d. Desafío Español – fun to watch: 00:07
Areva d. China Team: 03:03
+39 d. Shosholoza: 00:50
Emirates Team New Zealand d. Luna Rossa Challenge: 00:36
And that's the other one that had everybody's attention. New Zealand strategist Ray Davies said, "It was mainly that Dean [Barker] did a good job in the prestart and pushed Luna Rossa, and we were able to win the first cross." On the upwind gains: "I don't think we had a straight-line speed edge, but there were a couple of tacks that we did better than they did. Without the advantage in the prestart, it would have been hard to pass."
©Chris Cameron/Emirates Team New Zealand
The starting situation presented quandaries, Davies added: "With the right side favored up the course, and the pin end [left] favored by 10 degrees, how much do you give up by going for one or the other? But both boats had the same game plan."
The opposition agreed that the outcome of the race was not dictated by boatspeed. American Jonathan McKee sails on Luna Rossa, and he saw the bigger, steadier breeze producing "a different kind of race from the light-air days."
Quote Unquote Jonathan McKee:
Compared to light air, shifts, and holes . . .
This was more bow-to-bow, not so much a wild card on the beat. If somebody had really been faster, that would have been it.
On taking a loss . . .
In the semis the races will be longer. It's not that this was an easy race for them, but on a short race the odds get better as you round the first mark first. This was about control. Positioning. A geometry game on a short course with a lot of time on starboard, and they were on the correct side.
On finishing the round robins in first place . . .
We don't have a realistic chance of that, but if you're not first, it doesn't matter whether you're second or fourth. The leader chooses an opponent based on their perception of who they want to race, and everyone here has a pretty good understanding of the strengths and weakness of the other teams.
Enough already. Here's parting thought numero uno:
On Sunday, after posting to the blog, and needing to psych up to write my interview of designer Juan K (you can find it at SAIL, I went out for a sunset walk that took me past Luna Rossa. And lo and behold, I had a rare sight'em, and it's only May. Picture escalators to carry the public up two flights of stairs to the entrance to the public area of Luna Rossa. Picture so many people trying to get in that there's a line, and at the foot of the escalator, there's a line manager. Sort of what you'd see at a nightclub where they allow only certain people in, or so many people at a time, which is what was happening here. And what's inside when you get there? A store. An opportunity to buy those 140 euro, Luna Rossa branded denim jeans I keep telling you about. If you want yours, you'd better hurry.
And parting thought numero dos: Do fish swim backwards in Spain?
In English, a favorite fish: tuna. In Spanish, the same fish: atún.
Now do something worthwhile. Go sailing. But not until you've contemplated the scale of the ACC boats, as captured here by our photogger of the day, Chris Cameron—Kimball
©Chris Cameron/Emirates Team New Zealand
Sunday, May 6, 2007
SPARKS
So the top three boats are now untouchable--BMW Oracle, Luna Rossa, and Emirates Team New Zealand--and Desafío Español is out of reach of Victory Challenge barring a shift in the laws of gravity--but there still are sparks of interest as we come to the last two days (Hallelujah baby! Let's cut some boats!) of round robin racing. I'd count Monday's matchup of Luna Rossa and Emirates Team New Zealand as a spark of interest, and Sunday's race between Shosholoza and Mascalzone Latino, that got me going.
They mixed it up good in the prestart, with Shosholoza helmsman Paolo Cian putting some moves on the Latin Rascals (Jes Gram-Hansen has generally been an ace starting helmsman for the Italians) and laying on a penalty for failing to keep clear as Shosholoza, to leeward, swung into the wind. As it turned out, that was the ball game. After the start, Gram-Hansen turned the helm over to Cameron Dunn (this is Cameron; I've seen him happier) who drove Mascalzone into the lead. But with a penalty turn left to burn--a minimum of 30 seconds--that gave us a whole race in which to wonder and wait. The Italian boat was pulling away. Then the South African boat was gaining. The Italian boat was pulling away. Then the South African boat was gaining. Did I mention that already? And reaching down to the finish, Dunn stretched a bit, but it was thin. Thin as the foils on an AC boat. And Dunn made his spin. And stalled. And Shosholoza got through.
There's a new continent in town. Welcome to the America's Cup, Africa.
Dunn said, "We knew we'd have to do the turn perfectly. We didn't."
With the loss, Mascalzone joined Shosholoza in the ranks of the mathematically eliminated.
Ian Ainslie, who is sort of the godfather of the Shosholoza crew, was ready to look forward.
Quote Unquote Ian Ainslie
On the round robins:
"We have two more races, and they're winnable. Areva and +39. We respect both of them, but those races are winnable."
On continuing to the next Cup:
We really haven't spoken of it inside the team. We're too heads-down. It's a rumor to us, but yes, we keep hearing that we're going to keep going, and we'll have a two boat program next time. We were supposed to have a two-boat program this time . . ."
Would two boats have been good? Or a distraction? The latter:
"But we're at a point where we could profit from a two-boat program. This is a really good boat."
On highlights:
"When we beat Prada!"
On going home to a whole new life:
"No, I'll be going back to work [he's a teacher] and life will be the same."
With its pro-forma win over China Team, Emirates Team New Zealand locked a spot in the semis, but the number one spot--and with it, the right to pick your opponent--is still in play. There's a mere two-point spread between BMW Oracle, Luna Rossa, and Emirates. One of the big three is sure to lose on Monday, with Luna Rossa racing Emirates. And Oracle goes against Mascalzone Latino, which is not an opponent you can take for granted. It was the Mascalzone upset of the Kiwis that set off the first sparks in round robin racing. But it's time to cut some boats.
Now for a few shots I picked up by taking the long way home on Saturday after talking to Juan K (see the web story at SAIL.
We're backstage at an outdoor festival . . .
And now we're coming out "on stage" in the Plaza de la Virgens, and somebody's hat keeps falling off . . .
But with the hat in place, it's time to please the folks.
Every kid loves a jumping contest . . .
But who can jump as high as a man on stilts?
I'm not going there, mate. This was all part of the Festival de la otra Mirada (the other look) which is happening around town through July, to complement the sailboat racing that's happening at the port. There was music, dance, and an art show, and more to come, so they say. Life can be good in España—Kimball
They mixed it up good in the prestart, with Shosholoza helmsman Paolo Cian putting some moves on the Latin Rascals (Jes Gram-Hansen has generally been an ace starting helmsman for the Italians) and laying on a penalty for failing to keep clear as Shosholoza, to leeward, swung into the wind. As it turned out, that was the ball game. After the start, Gram-Hansen turned the helm over to Cameron Dunn (this is Cameron; I've seen him happier) who drove Mascalzone into the lead. But with a penalty turn left to burn--a minimum of 30 seconds--that gave us a whole race in which to wonder and wait. The Italian boat was pulling away. Then the South African boat was gaining. The Italian boat was pulling away. Then the South African boat was gaining. Did I mention that already? And reaching down to the finish, Dunn stretched a bit, but it was thin. Thin as the foils on an AC boat. And Dunn made his spin. And stalled. And Shosholoza got through.
There's a new continent in town. Welcome to the America's Cup, Africa.
Dunn said, "We knew we'd have to do the turn perfectly. We didn't."
With the loss, Mascalzone joined Shosholoza in the ranks of the mathematically eliminated.
Ian Ainslie, who is sort of the godfather of the Shosholoza crew, was ready to look forward.
Quote Unquote Ian Ainslie
On the round robins:
"We have two more races, and they're winnable. Areva and +39. We respect both of them, but those races are winnable."
On continuing to the next Cup:
We really haven't spoken of it inside the team. We're too heads-down. It's a rumor to us, but yes, we keep hearing that we're going to keep going, and we'll have a two boat program next time. We were supposed to have a two-boat program this time . . ."
Would two boats have been good? Or a distraction? The latter:
"But we're at a point where we could profit from a two-boat program. This is a really good boat."
On highlights:
"When we beat Prada!"
On going home to a whole new life:
"No, I'll be going back to work [he's a teacher] and life will be the same."
With its pro-forma win over China Team, Emirates Team New Zealand locked a spot in the semis, but the number one spot--and with it, the right to pick your opponent--is still in play. There's a mere two-point spread between BMW Oracle, Luna Rossa, and Emirates. One of the big three is sure to lose on Monday, with Luna Rossa racing Emirates. And Oracle goes against Mascalzone Latino, which is not an opponent you can take for granted. It was the Mascalzone upset of the Kiwis that set off the first sparks in round robin racing. But it's time to cut some boats.
Now for a few shots I picked up by taking the long way home on Saturday after talking to Juan K (see the web story at SAIL.
We're backstage at an outdoor festival . . .
And now we're coming out "on stage" in the Plaza de la Virgens, and somebody's hat keeps falling off . . .
But with the hat in place, it's time to please the folks.
Every kid loves a jumping contest . . .
But who can jump as high as a man on stilts?
I'm not going there, mate. This was all part of the Festival de la otra Mirada (the other look) which is happening around town through July, to complement the sailboat racing that's happening at the port. There was music, dance, and an art show, and more to come, so they say. Life can be good in España—Kimball
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Enough Quantity, Ready for Quality
The dance card for today (sabado) doesn't look like much unless you're betting that the German boat will upset the Kiwis, and the French boat will upset BMW Oracle, and anything can happen, but those are not good bets. The one race of obvious interest is the rematch of Desafío Español and Mascalzone Latino, a punishment of the Latin Rascals for backstay abuse in the race they thought they took off the Spanish.
As I write, the race between Desafío Español and Shosholoza is under way after a very active prestart; great spectating. But I'm not following this one through. I have other fish to fry. I'm getting out of Port America's Cup and talking to some people beyond the beltway, so that in the next few days I can bring you something more than race reports.
I'm ready to get beyond quantity, and down to quality, in my ACC racing. Let's cut some boats.
For European readers, this is it for Saturday. Those of you stateside can expect an update very early Sunday. By that time we just might know if Mascalzone still has hopes of making the cut to the final four, and is Areva still breathing or has the French boat joined +39, United Internet Team Germany, and China Team in the regions of the lost.
A parting note. There's been a large and successful effort to awaken Valencianos to the fact that the America's Cup is in town. But I do believe this Alinghi banner at the Puente Aragon (over the Turia) is the winner for sheer scale. And yes, you do see ATV's on the street—Kimball
As I write, the race between Desafío Español and Shosholoza is under way after a very active prestart; great spectating. But I'm not following this one through. I have other fish to fry. I'm getting out of Port America's Cup and talking to some people beyond the beltway, so that in the next few days I can bring you something more than race reports.
I'm ready to get beyond quantity, and down to quality, in my ACC racing. Let's cut some boats.
For European readers, this is it for Saturday. Those of you stateside can expect an update very early Sunday. By that time we just might know if Mascalzone still has hopes of making the cut to the final four, and is Areva still breathing or has the French boat joined +39, United Internet Team Germany, and China Team in the regions of the lost.
A parting note. There's been a large and successful effort to awaken Valencianos to the fact that the America's Cup is in town. But I do believe this Alinghi banner at the Puente Aragon (over the Turia) is the winner for sheer scale. And yes, you do see ATV's on the street—Kimball
Friday, May 4, 2007
Chewing on the Food Chain
Luna Rossa would be looking sooo good, if only Larry Ellison hadn't come to the party.
BMW Oracle on Friday passed Luna Rossa just about where they always pass Shosholoza, up the second beat.
But, starting at the start: I'm pretty sure that Chris Dickson and his brain trust got the side of the course they wanted—they seemed to set up to take the left, and I'm calling it an even start—but there were a lot of small tweaks in the breeze, and they broke for Luna Rossa early on. James Spithill and his Italian team consolidated the early lead, but there wasn't much in it.
When these boats met in their first matchup, it was close all the way. Spithill threatened but could never break through. Now we had the shoe on the other foot. Could Dickson break through? It looked like this leaving the first weather mark.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
And it looked like this coming back.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Oracle made its first gains downwind. Navigator Peter Isler said, "We soaked down without losing much on the line. They saw the gainer and had to decide whether or not that rate of gain was going to continue. Their answer was to gybe. Maybe they hoped we'd go with them. We didn't.
"Obviously it was a boatspeed thing that we were able to get strong on them [that's Oracle team speak for gaining a strong position: Ed.] and force them to make two extra gybes. It gave us the gate we wanted and the side we wanted."
Dickson and company took the right-hand gate (looking up the course)and the right-hand side for the second beat. As they say, right is right. Luna Rossa rounded the opposite mark and carried themselves out to the left, pretty much on the same track that the pair had sailed on the first beat. Which makes it worth revisiting a Gavin Brady quote that I ran on Wednesday: "Luna Rossa seems to very comfortably split with the opposition and go for an advantage. When you sail with that kind of confidence, you're a strong team. I imagine Luna Rossa looks at us the same way, and we haven't really seen any weaknesses in them, but maybe some weaknesses will be exposed."
I'll let someone else speak to that, but I do know that on the second beat, Oracle was the first to tack, and I know that Luna Rossa tacked soon after that, and when they came together you could have fit two boats in between them. They still had some weather work ahead, and another spinnaker leg, but hindsight tells me that the door slammed shut right there. A delta of 19 seconds was the smallest in that flight, but no matter how much Mr. Ellison may have overpaid for what he's got, he's got something good.
And what I got from my morning chat with designer Bruce Farr is that the team expects USA 98 ("a middle of the road design") to keep getting better.
There's a bit more from "Pedro" Isler that's worth including. Asked if USA 98 is simply a better hammer (which I think it is), he had this to say: "In 12 knots and smooth water, these boats go about the same speed. So think about this. In a one design fleet, a good team is one that can stay close when it's behind and then make the moves to pass when the opportunity presents."
'nuff said.
Jaw Drop du Jour Honors to +39 for a premature start, and then turning left to sail across the bow of Mascalzone Latino, hard on the wind alongside. I didn't think they were going to make it, and they came away with a foul to go along with going back to restart. For Mascalzone Latino, every race is a must win, and this one—once they had cleared +39—was comfortable all the way to a 2:07 delta.
Careful What You Say Honors to Mascalzone mastman George Skuodas, on the backstay-abuse violation that cancelled their win over Desafío Español and cost Vincenzo Onorato a 10,000 euro fine: "We've been sailing that way for months." His explanation, they missed the memo.
Role Model Honors to the most improved team out there, Shosholoza, for a 2:08 win off Team China, which whipped itself with a premature start that shouldn't happen even in your Wednesday night beer can races. Once upon a time, however, Shosholoza looked pretty ragged, and they are the gold standard for how to raise a farm team.
As for the food chain, nothing happened to upset it. Try:
Emirates Team New Zealand over Desafío Español by 00:43 and over Shosholoza by 00:29 (the Kiwis dominating but not running away). Mascalzone Latino over +39 by 02:09 and over United Internet Team Germany by 00:34 (staying alive). Luna Rossa over Areva, 01:16. Victory Challenge over +39; 01:03, and over Germany, 01:18.
The Saturday dance card isn't sexy, but we do get to see Desafío Español go against Shosholoza and then face off against Mascalzone in the rematch.
HATS OFF
To Tom Perkins for a new record. Perkins is bound from the Caribbean to the Med (and I wouldn't be surprised to see him in Valencia) aboard his 287-foot "modern clipper," Maltese Falcon. He sent this email to my homies at Latitude 38 in San Francisco:
"Just a quick note from East of the Azores. I'm happy to report that the Falcon has just broken the Cutty Sark's best 24-hour run. The Cutty did 362 nautical miles and we've done 380. I believe the Cutty's record has never been broken by a square rigger . . . until today. The wind's averaged about 27 knots and the forecast is for slightly stronger winds into Gibraltar, so we'll be shooting to break 400 miles tomorrow."
To Bernard Stamm for sailing out the Velux 5 Oceans even after the event fell apart around him. He had every chance of winning that thing again, even if he'd had the competition he expected.
To Robin Knox-Johnston nearly 40 years after becoming the first person to circumnavigate non-stop, for completing his second lap of the planet on Friday.
So, how many people have sailed solo around the world?
165
And my hat is off to every one of them—Kimball
BMW Oracle on Friday passed Luna Rossa just about where they always pass Shosholoza, up the second beat.
But, starting at the start: I'm pretty sure that Chris Dickson and his brain trust got the side of the course they wanted—they seemed to set up to take the left, and I'm calling it an even start—but there were a lot of small tweaks in the breeze, and they broke for Luna Rossa early on. James Spithill and his Italian team consolidated the early lead, but there wasn't much in it.
When these boats met in their first matchup, it was close all the way. Spithill threatened but could never break through. Now we had the shoe on the other foot. Could Dickson break through? It looked like this leaving the first weather mark.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
And it looked like this coming back.
©Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle
Oracle made its first gains downwind. Navigator Peter Isler said, "We soaked down without losing much on the line. They saw the gainer and had to decide whether or not that rate of gain was going to continue. Their answer was to gybe. Maybe they hoped we'd go with them. We didn't.
"Obviously it was a boatspeed thing that we were able to get strong on them [that's Oracle team speak for gaining a strong position: Ed.] and force them to make two extra gybes. It gave us the gate we wanted and the side we wanted."
Dickson and company took the right-hand gate (looking up the course)and the right-hand side for the second beat. As they say, right is right. Luna Rossa rounded the opposite mark and carried themselves out to the left, pretty much on the same track that the pair had sailed on the first beat. Which makes it worth revisiting a Gavin Brady quote that I ran on Wednesday: "Luna Rossa seems to very comfortably split with the opposition and go for an advantage. When you sail with that kind of confidence, you're a strong team. I imagine Luna Rossa looks at us the same way, and we haven't really seen any weaknesses in them, but maybe some weaknesses will be exposed."
I'll let someone else speak to that, but I do know that on the second beat, Oracle was the first to tack, and I know that Luna Rossa tacked soon after that, and when they came together you could have fit two boats in between them. They still had some weather work ahead, and another spinnaker leg, but hindsight tells me that the door slammed shut right there. A delta of 19 seconds was the smallest in that flight, but no matter how much Mr. Ellison may have overpaid for what he's got, he's got something good.
And what I got from my morning chat with designer Bruce Farr is that the team expects USA 98 ("a middle of the road design") to keep getting better.
There's a bit more from "Pedro" Isler that's worth including. Asked if USA 98 is simply a better hammer (which I think it is), he had this to say: "In 12 knots and smooth water, these boats go about the same speed. So think about this. In a one design fleet, a good team is one that can stay close when it's behind and then make the moves to pass when the opportunity presents."
'nuff said.
Jaw Drop du Jour Honors to +39 for a premature start, and then turning left to sail across the bow of Mascalzone Latino, hard on the wind alongside. I didn't think they were going to make it, and they came away with a foul to go along with going back to restart. For Mascalzone Latino, every race is a must win, and this one—once they had cleared +39—was comfortable all the way to a 2:07 delta.
Careful What You Say Honors to Mascalzone mastman George Skuodas, on the backstay-abuse violation that cancelled their win over Desafío Español and cost Vincenzo Onorato a 10,000 euro fine: "We've been sailing that way for months." His explanation, they missed the memo.
Role Model Honors to the most improved team out there, Shosholoza, for a 2:08 win off Team China, which whipped itself with a premature start that shouldn't happen even in your Wednesday night beer can races. Once upon a time, however, Shosholoza looked pretty ragged, and they are the gold standard for how to raise a farm team.
As for the food chain, nothing happened to upset it. Try:
Emirates Team New Zealand over Desafío Español by 00:43 and over Shosholoza by 00:29 (the Kiwis dominating but not running away). Mascalzone Latino over +39 by 02:09 and over United Internet Team Germany by 00:34 (staying alive). Luna Rossa over Areva, 01:16. Victory Challenge over +39; 01:03, and over Germany, 01:18.
The Saturday dance card isn't sexy, but we do get to see Desafío Español go against Shosholoza and then face off against Mascalzone in the rematch.
HATS OFF
To Tom Perkins for a new record. Perkins is bound from the Caribbean to the Med (and I wouldn't be surprised to see him in Valencia) aboard his 287-foot "modern clipper," Maltese Falcon. He sent this email to my homies at Latitude 38 in San Francisco:
"Just a quick note from East of the Azores. I'm happy to report that the Falcon has just broken the Cutty Sark's best 24-hour run. The Cutty did 362 nautical miles and we've done 380. I believe the Cutty's record has never been broken by a square rigger . . . until today. The wind's averaged about 27 knots and the forecast is for slightly stronger winds into Gibraltar, so we'll be shooting to break 400 miles tomorrow."
To Bernard Stamm for sailing out the Velux 5 Oceans even after the event fell apart around him. He had every chance of winning that thing again, even if he'd had the competition he expected.
To Robin Knox-Johnston nearly 40 years after becoming the first person to circumnavigate non-stop, for completing his second lap of the planet on Friday.
So, how many people have sailed solo around the world?
165
And my hat is off to every one of them—Kimball
Thursday, May 3, 2007
Not So Instant Replay
And Sailrocket Crashes Again
Rainbows we got in Valencia, but racing, no. Thunderstorms on Thursday prevented any racing—8 out of 18 days so far with no racing—but I'm not forgetting that the first meeting of Luna Rossa and BMW Oracle was a heartstopper. I'll keep hoping for fireworks on Friday.
(This is just a hasty note on a nonracing day, but read on for Paul Larsen's comments on another crash in Sailrocket in his quest to break 50 knots, a crash that left him saying, "Something was fundamentally wrong. Our beliefs had been shaken")
Back to Valencia for a moment. Thursday was a dark day until it was nearly gone. And then: That rainbow over Alinghi . . .
If it's true that there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I guess it belongs to Ernesto Bertarelli.
Meanwhile, Desafío Español has successfully protested Mascalzone Latino for backstay abuse in the Wednesday race that first looked like a win for the Italians. Instead the jury ruled on Thursday night that the team must pay (another) fine of $10,000 euros, and the race will be resailed. That is, it's not the reason they won the race, so the jury is giving them a chance to hold onto the win, and they're giving the Spanish a chance to take it away. In Auckland in 2003, teams started imitating the Kiwi style of taking a topmast backstay to the mast whenever it wasn't critical, and putting it back as required. That wasn't making anybody's sailing better, and the rule now says that you can use it or not (different rigs have different needs, also one rig in different winds) but you have to sail with the rig that you start with. The Italians mixed modes, so their ambition to make the final four takes a setback.
Thursday wasn't much of a day, on the water or in my life, and that's all I have in me this time around. Thanks to Mike and elc for correcting me (sheesh) on the nationality of James Spithill, the Aussie on the helm of Luna Rossa. You guys want a job following me around and cleaning up my act?
But here's something for speedfreaks. I watch with fascination the many attempts to break 50 knots on water, under sail. One of the people trying hard is Brit Paul Larson with a contraption that he calls Sailrocket. It looks (or looked) like this.
You can find full details at the sailrocket web site. Paul is in Namibia for his current effort, but he's rethinking. What I'm pasting below is what Paul sent out last night after his most recent crash. It's long, and it's not required reading if you're here only for Cup news, but I like it because it's raw. Here's Paul Larsen on Day 12, Run 7, 18 knots true on Walvis Bay in Namibia:
A CRASH COURSE IN STABILITY ISSUES
The round-up was aggressive and caused the solid wing sail to backwind violently and slam down into the cross beam. Sailrocket stopped abruptly. The beam was shattered.
It was virtually a repeat of a run [and crash] two months ago.
Yes, there was some swearing.
We had been very cautious about choosing our wind strengths. The last two runs had gone well in slightly lighter winds and we had run up to 30 knots both times. There was a hint of instability at the end of Run 5 which I mentioned. We thought that by going to the smaller "high-speed" rudder at 30 knots that this would be resolved. Well this run proved that it made little difference. I did a nice and gentle approach to the course and built speed gradually (for this boat anyway). At a little over 30 knots the helm felt light so I flicked up the big rudder. With just the little rudder down there was some weather helm but I could easily hold it. Sailrocket kept accelerating. I was well positioned on the course and still a conservative distance off the shore. If all went well and I had good control then I planned to squeeze in closer. The helm increased and I felt that if it got any worse as the speed increased that I could be in serious trouble. We were expecting neutral or even the beginnings of the much sought lee helm at these speeds. I sheeted in a little to help relieve it. Sailrocket began to yaw to windward. I stomped on the left C-tech rudder pedal but I knew I didn't have the steering power or room to correct it like on the wild Run 4. All of the team in their different positions along the course knew what was about to happen. I fought the round up for awhile but then it was no use. If I had halted the turn half way I would be up the beach in an instant. The rig compressed the COMPOTECH strut into the beam which fractured the beam and shattered the strut. It all rained down. The fact that the beam was already broken could have softened the impact of the wing. I was in waist-deep water by this stage and could pull all the carnage ashore.
This was not a pretty sight. We were all gutted.
My mind reeled at what had just happened.
What had just happened? What is wrong here? Why does this keep happening despite all our modifications and tuning. Whilst everything was fresh in my head I tried to evaluate what I had seen and felt.
Now, a few days later, I can say that what lay before us on that windy strip was merely a hard lesson accompanied by a slap in the face. Sometimes progress is destructive.
We lashed the wing down to a log and limped home with the wounded platform
The boat had done what we had worked hard to eliminate. I hadn't used the brake that we had built to prevent it but that is secondary. The way it happens is just so quick and the window of opportunity for the brake is small. I missed it this time but that wasn't what was bugging me. The boat is fundamentally unstable and I can't control it.
I called Malcolm and followed this up with a quick report into sponsors and supporters.
Positive offers of support came back immediately. It really helps to turn the tide, "Oh no, that sucks, well, chin up, you guys can come back. What do you need?"
We pulled SAILROCKET apart on the windiest day since we arrived and went back to the apartment¦ to think hard.
Something was fundamentally wrong. Our beliefs had been shaken.
In times like this I find that a healthy diet and hard exercise is simply no substitute for a well stacked fridge!
The following morning we went back to speed-spot and recovered the AEROTROPE wing. It was amazingly intact. I turned it over expecting to see a huge area of mashed up composites¦ but there was nothing other than some scratches and easily repaired cracks. The central COMPOTECH spar had stood up to the abuse, the FIBREFUSION ribs had absorbed an alarming amount of shock and suffered some small local delaminations but overall, ¦she had all survived. I can't believe how strong this thing is. Watch the video and you will understand. The beam had obviously failed before the wing hit it. The flaps had copped a bit of damage. The repairs there are always fiddly but that's ok. We built it, we'll fix it.
I began to come to grips with the damage and the fact that my lovely first build was not going to stay perfect forever.
These initial crashes were like the first scuffs on your first new set of footy boots. Get over it and go play football!
The psychological separation is almost a relief. This boat is a tool
The goal here is to build and sail the world's fastest boat—not the prettiest.
No doubt there will be more composite work to come.
We did a fully set-up weigh in the other day. In full sailing mode Sailrocket weighs in at 192.5 kg (no pilot, ¦82kg, in case you were wondering). She is light. We can afford to spend a few kilos on repairs and mods. That's why we took the advice of SP way back at the start and went the pre-preg carbon/ Nomex way. This decision is paying dividends now.
So now that the damage is just resigned to a boat building exercise, the big issue is what is causing it and how can it be cured?
Chris Hornzee-Jones who designed the wing looked at it from my perspective and worked backwards into his understanding of Mal's calc's (Malcolm's performance simulation). He deduced that whilst the simulation showed a "freeze frame"of control scenarios it didn't make it obvious how this would relate to the dynamics that would be required by the pilot.
It appeared that Sailrocket is fundamentally unstable and even when going straight, it is teetering on the edge of instability. It is almost divergent. Like trying to fly an arrow backwards. The faster you go, the worse it gets.
Now you can technically fly an arrow backwards. Most modern fighter aircraft do exactly that. They are unstable way beyond what a pilot can control and require a computer to maintain stability. The pilot simply directs it. If the computer fails then the next button you push is to eject. No point hanging around except to grab the car keys!
So Chris suggested fitting a fixed skeg at the back to give Sailrocket some idea of direction and an ability to track in a straight line. The rudder can do this but it needs constant super fine adjustment.
Malcolm factored this skeg into his simulation and it virtually transformed the handling of the boat and dampened down all of its unruly characteristics. Malcolm's simulation did predict what was happening all along but you had to know where to look. Chris looked at the pilo's perspective first and resolved that the response amounts and reaction times needed were unrealistic.
We had been focusing on making the boat have more of a tendency to turn away from the beach i.e. more lee helm, but all the while this had distracted us away from a far bigger issue. Well, it has our full attention now.
We are not about to jump onto the first wagon offering hope here but we feel that we have discovered the fundamental issue. Now we have to resolve it. The model worked perfectly so what is the difference? One big difference is that there is a human attached to the rudder and not a strong mechanical device. The rudder was also inclined on the model. The thing about the model was that once it was up and running you virtually didn't have to steer it. It tracked straight and true. This is what I liked most about it. Replicating it in full scale is not proving to be that easy.
Once I slipped off the straight and narrow with the little rudder, it didn't have the power or advantage to correct the craft. In fact we wonder now about the wild ride experienced in Run 4. The fact that the aft planing surface had broken off and that the back end was riding low in the water may have helped with the tracking and assisted our very narrow escape. Maybe.
So this is where we find ourselves. The brains back in the UK (and some in Valencia) are swarming over the problem and the support network is in action. Helena and I have already begun the repair. We want to be back out there in around two weeks. With the amount of support we have been offered from HOMETRACK, SP, COMPOTECH and a host of others, I'm sure we can do this. We must however be armed with a thorough understanding of the problem and a very solid solution. This will define the timeline for our return.
We will forget 50 knots for now and focus on regular 40's.
We receive, consider and reply to all offers of advice from all directions (The mention of a skeg had been made before but we were looking elsewhere...cheers Rik).
We share all of this with you so at the very least this project can share its understanding of a new concept in a constructive way and pave the way for the more adventurous of you who might like to follow some day (also for the enjoyment of those who have trail-blazed before).
As usual, it is our ability as a team to come back from these lows will define our end result.
As a potential world record breaker sailrocket is still a diamond in the rough—but a diamond nonetheless!
Cheers Paul
(This is just a hasty note on a nonracing day, but read on for Paul Larsen's comments on another crash in Sailrocket in his quest to break 50 knots, a crash that left him saying, "Something was fundamentally wrong. Our beliefs had been shaken")
Back to Valencia for a moment. Thursday was a dark day until it was nearly gone. And then: That rainbow over Alinghi . . .
If it's true that there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I guess it belongs to Ernesto Bertarelli.
Meanwhile, Desafío Español has successfully protested Mascalzone Latino for backstay abuse in the Wednesday race that first looked like a win for the Italians. Instead the jury ruled on Thursday night that the team must pay (another) fine of $10,000 euros, and the race will be resailed. That is, it's not the reason they won the race, so the jury is giving them a chance to hold onto the win, and they're giving the Spanish a chance to take it away. In Auckland in 2003, teams started imitating the Kiwi style of taking a topmast backstay to the mast whenever it wasn't critical, and putting it back as required. That wasn't making anybody's sailing better, and the rule now says that you can use it or not (different rigs have different needs, also one rig in different winds) but you have to sail with the rig that you start with. The Italians mixed modes, so their ambition to make the final four takes a setback.
Thursday wasn't much of a day, on the water or in my life, and that's all I have in me this time around. Thanks to Mike and elc for correcting me (sheesh) on the nationality of James Spithill, the Aussie on the helm of Luna Rossa. You guys want a job following me around and cleaning up my act?
But here's something for speedfreaks. I watch with fascination the many attempts to break 50 knots on water, under sail. One of the people trying hard is Brit Paul Larson with a contraption that he calls Sailrocket. It looks (or looked) like this.
You can find full details at the sailrocket web site. Paul is in Namibia for his current effort, but he's rethinking. What I'm pasting below is what Paul sent out last night after his most recent crash. It's long, and it's not required reading if you're here only for Cup news, but I like it because it's raw. Here's Paul Larsen on Day 12, Run 7, 18 knots true on Walvis Bay in Namibia:
A CRASH COURSE IN STABILITY ISSUES
The round-up was aggressive and caused the solid wing sail to backwind violently and slam down into the cross beam. Sailrocket stopped abruptly. The beam was shattered.
It was virtually a repeat of a run [and crash] two months ago.
Yes, there was some swearing.
We had been very cautious about choosing our wind strengths. The last two runs had gone well in slightly lighter winds and we had run up to 30 knots both times. There was a hint of instability at the end of Run 5 which I mentioned. We thought that by going to the smaller "high-speed" rudder at 30 knots that this would be resolved. Well this run proved that it made little difference. I did a nice and gentle approach to the course and built speed gradually (for this boat anyway). At a little over 30 knots the helm felt light so I flicked up the big rudder. With just the little rudder down there was some weather helm but I could easily hold it. Sailrocket kept accelerating. I was well positioned on the course and still a conservative distance off the shore. If all went well and I had good control then I planned to squeeze in closer. The helm increased and I felt that if it got any worse as the speed increased that I could be in serious trouble. We were expecting neutral or even the beginnings of the much sought lee helm at these speeds. I sheeted in a little to help relieve it. Sailrocket began to yaw to windward. I stomped on the left C-tech rudder pedal but I knew I didn't have the steering power or room to correct it like on the wild Run 4. All of the team in their different positions along the course knew what was about to happen. I fought the round up for awhile but then it was no use. If I had halted the turn half way I would be up the beach in an instant. The rig compressed the COMPOTECH strut into the beam which fractured the beam and shattered the strut. It all rained down. The fact that the beam was already broken could have softened the impact of the wing. I was in waist-deep water by this stage and could pull all the carnage ashore.
This was not a pretty sight. We were all gutted.
My mind reeled at what had just happened.
What had just happened? What is wrong here? Why does this keep happening despite all our modifications and tuning. Whilst everything was fresh in my head I tried to evaluate what I had seen and felt.
Now, a few days later, I can say that what lay before us on that windy strip was merely a hard lesson accompanied by a slap in the face. Sometimes progress is destructive.
We lashed the wing down to a log and limped home with the wounded platform
The boat had done what we had worked hard to eliminate. I hadn't used the brake that we had built to prevent it but that is secondary. The way it happens is just so quick and the window of opportunity for the brake is small. I missed it this time but that wasn't what was bugging me. The boat is fundamentally unstable and I can't control it.
I called Malcolm and followed this up with a quick report into sponsors and supporters.
Positive offers of support came back immediately. It really helps to turn the tide, "Oh no, that sucks, well, chin up, you guys can come back. What do you need?"
We pulled SAILROCKET apart on the windiest day since we arrived and went back to the apartment¦ to think hard.
Something was fundamentally wrong. Our beliefs had been shaken.
In times like this I find that a healthy diet and hard exercise is simply no substitute for a well stacked fridge!
The following morning we went back to speed-spot and recovered the AEROTROPE wing. It was amazingly intact. I turned it over expecting to see a huge area of mashed up composites¦ but there was nothing other than some scratches and easily repaired cracks. The central COMPOTECH spar had stood up to the abuse, the FIBREFUSION ribs had absorbed an alarming amount of shock and suffered some small local delaminations but overall, ¦she had all survived. I can't believe how strong this thing is. Watch the video and you will understand. The beam had obviously failed before the wing hit it. The flaps had copped a bit of damage. The repairs there are always fiddly but that's ok. We built it, we'll fix it.
I began to come to grips with the damage and the fact that my lovely first build was not going to stay perfect forever.
These initial crashes were like the first scuffs on your first new set of footy boots. Get over it and go play football!
The psychological separation is almost a relief. This boat is a tool
The goal here is to build and sail the world's fastest boat—not the prettiest.
No doubt there will be more composite work to come.
We did a fully set-up weigh in the other day. In full sailing mode Sailrocket weighs in at 192.5 kg (no pilot, ¦82kg, in case you were wondering). She is light. We can afford to spend a few kilos on repairs and mods. That's why we took the advice of SP way back at the start and went the pre-preg carbon/ Nomex way. This decision is paying dividends now.
So now that the damage is just resigned to a boat building exercise, the big issue is what is causing it and how can it be cured?
Chris Hornzee-Jones who designed the wing looked at it from my perspective and worked backwards into his understanding of Mal's calc's (Malcolm's performance simulation). He deduced that whilst the simulation showed a "freeze frame"of control scenarios it didn't make it obvious how this would relate to the dynamics that would be required by the pilot.
It appeared that Sailrocket is fundamentally unstable and even when going straight, it is teetering on the edge of instability. It is almost divergent. Like trying to fly an arrow backwards. The faster you go, the worse it gets.
Now you can technically fly an arrow backwards. Most modern fighter aircraft do exactly that. They are unstable way beyond what a pilot can control and require a computer to maintain stability. The pilot simply directs it. If the computer fails then the next button you push is to eject. No point hanging around except to grab the car keys!
So Chris suggested fitting a fixed skeg at the back to give Sailrocket some idea of direction and an ability to track in a straight line. The rudder can do this but it needs constant super fine adjustment.
Malcolm factored this skeg into his simulation and it virtually transformed the handling of the boat and dampened down all of its unruly characteristics. Malcolm's simulation did predict what was happening all along but you had to know where to look. Chris looked at the pilo's perspective first and resolved that the response amounts and reaction times needed were unrealistic.
We had been focusing on making the boat have more of a tendency to turn away from the beach i.e. more lee helm, but all the while this had distracted us away from a far bigger issue. Well, it has our full attention now.
We are not about to jump onto the first wagon offering hope here but we feel that we have discovered the fundamental issue. Now we have to resolve it. The model worked perfectly so what is the difference? One big difference is that there is a human attached to the rudder and not a strong mechanical device. The rudder was also inclined on the model. The thing about the model was that once it was up and running you virtually didn't have to steer it. It tracked straight and true. This is what I liked most about it. Replicating it in full scale is not proving to be that easy.
Once I slipped off the straight and narrow with the little rudder, it didn't have the power or advantage to correct the craft. In fact we wonder now about the wild ride experienced in Run 4. The fact that the aft planing surface had broken off and that the back end was riding low in the water may have helped with the tracking and assisted our very narrow escape. Maybe.
So this is where we find ourselves. The brains back in the UK (and some in Valencia) are swarming over the problem and the support network is in action. Helena and I have already begun the repair. We want to be back out there in around two weeks. With the amount of support we have been offered from HOMETRACK, SP, COMPOTECH and a host of others, I'm sure we can do this. We must however be armed with a thorough understanding of the problem and a very solid solution. This will define the timeline for our return.
We will forget 50 knots for now and focus on regular 40's.
We receive, consider and reply to all offers of advice from all directions (The mention of a skeg had been made before but we were looking elsewhere...cheers Rik).
We share all of this with you so at the very least this project can share its understanding of a new concept in a constructive way and pave the way for the more adventurous of you who might like to follow some day (also for the enjoyment of those who have trail-blazed before).
As usual, it is our ability as a team to come back from these lows will define our end result.
As a potential world record breaker sailrocket is still a diamond in the rough—but a diamond nonetheless!
Cheers Paul
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
Is your wallet safe? Is Dicko's?
Two come-from-behind wins against boats you would expect them to beat—that was Wednesday down on the farm for BMW Oracle.
Two wins, one of them easy—that was Wednesday for Luna Rossa.
Which leaves these two tied on points as we come to the halfway point of the second round and a meeting today. It oughta be good. The US boat won, the first time they met, but if you had any fingernails left at the end of that one, you don't know sailboat racing, my friend.
Elsewhere: Shosholoza got shut out by both of the top boats but can never be counted out. Skipper Mark Sadler said that his boat, "is still developing, and the crew is still improving, and we still hope to get some more wins." It could happen, but the final-four dream is shelved. As I listened to their Shosholoza fight song blaring during the dock-out, was that a whiff of premature nostalgia that I felt? For seven of these teams the axe is already whistling in the air.
Mascalzone Latino bought some time by drawing a bye and then roughing up Desafío Español but good, from the prestart to the finish. It was a new-look Mascalzone, with coach Cameron Dunn moving to the helm in place of Vasco Vascotto. It seems that the man behind the team, Vincenzo Onorato, noticed that Vascotto had lost five races in a row. With its new paint job (oops, the old paint was not class-legal), starting helmsman Jes Gram-Hansen locked Karol Jablonski out at the committee boat end of the start and then tacked to enter the course with speed while the Spanish team faced a forlorn tack-turn-gybe to follow. Dunn stepped in on the helm after that for the Italians, and everything went their way on a race they had to win. But the Spanish still hold spot number four.
Desafio over Areva, New Zealand over +39 and Areva, Victory over China, that completes a day in which the fascination was to watch Chris Dickson and the BMW Oracle team respond to serious challenges.
BMW Oracle d. Shosholoza—00:43 When "Dicko" and the boys (only a Kiwi could carry that nickname) met Shosholoza in round robin one, it took them 2+ legs to pass. In their second matchup, it took them 2+ legs to pass. We could spend an hour talking our way through the details of that, and if this were the America's Cup match, maybe we would. Or for now I could just say that Larry Ellison's BMW Oracle team made better bets, sailed cleaner, and had a boat that was a freckle faster at times.
BMW Oracle d. Victory Challenge—00:14 Thank you, gentlemen. This one was fun to watch. Here we have another chaser hoping to knock the Spanish out of number four. Two points against a tough opponent would have gone a long way for Magnus Holmberg's chances, and he stayed in front for three legs, but you have to say this about the white team. They're not invulnerable, and they're not perfect, but they are one intimidating opponent, and whoever gets a crack at Alinghi is going to have to go through them.
Poor Magnus must have felt like somebody picked his pocket.
Here he was, coming into the second weather mark with good speed on starboard tack and every apparent advantage. And here came Dickson on port, wanting to duck to get inside. So Holmberg put some moves on the white team. First he went up into the wind, to kill some speed and not be too far ahead. Then he hunted down—that's legal in match racing, though you still have to leave the other guy an escape. But Dickson not only escaped, he escaped with the goods. He took Victory's transom and wheeled up inside at the mark, carrying momentum, claiming the lead. And then carried Victory out to the south forty, both boats with poles set and spinnakers ready to go but not setting . . .
Not setting . . .
Until Holmberg gave up and tacked around to escape. It wasn't a pretty day, and this isn't a pretty picture, but it tells a story.
© Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
Case not quite closed; BMW Oracle had to keep on winning it for one more leg, but you know they did.
The weather mark moves were great action, and I'm giving a chunk of the credit to the match race circuit that has honed the skills of these people. It's not your father's America's Cup, and it's not your father's match racing.
Quote Unquote Gavin Brady
On the mental game:
"We never talk about losing."
On waking up in the morning:
"You go into one of these knowing that it's going to be a tough race, and if you make one mistake it can get away from you."
On James Spithill, Torben Grael, and the whole Luna Rossa team:
Luna Rossa seems to very comfortably split with the opposition and go for an advantage. When you sail with that kind of confidence, you're a strong team. I imagine Luna Rossa looks at us the same way, and we haven't really seen any weaknesses in them, but maybe some weaknesses will be exposed."
(What is not exposed, as yet, is the why, if any, of those jury boats down at Alinghi.)
REGARDING WALLETS
I took the long way to the port this morning. So did SAIL's über-editor Peter Nielsen. Fortunately for me, I indulged in a walkabout of some new parts (to me) of Valencia, while Nielsen, unfortunately for him, spent his time filing an incident report with the Policia about his mysteriously-missing wallet. Since the wallet did not have wings, we're assuming that he got pick-pocketed on Tuesday on the #19 bus that runs between the Plaza del Ajuntamiento and the port. Here's the 19 loading up at the plaza. The sign tucked into the front window reads, AMERICA'S CUP.
The little gizmo on the right is one of the miniature street cleaners that run everywhere, up the narrow streets, around sidewalks, through the parks—I think it does everything except windows. The Valencianos are aggressive about cleaning their streets. When one of these things comes down my tiny street, Editor Cabrerizo, it makes a double run, once each way.
Anyhow, there's been a lot of talk about Valencia and thievery. I wasn't ready to talk about it until now, but Pete's point of view fits with mine, and here it is: "Why blame Valencia for something that could have happened in Paris?"
We've had things happen around here, and it can be hard to know just what is the right perspective, but I think that's it. Most of my time and energy are taken up inside the America's Cup Beltway, but whenever I break out of it I enjoy the Valencianos. Simple exchanges often net warm smiles, and I've far from exhausted the sights. Pete let his guard down when he shouldn't have, but he also did some things right. He was carrying a minimum number of credit cards, knew how to make the contacts for the two that disappeared, wasn't loaded with cash, etc. Travelers anywhere, and certainly in the south of Europe, are well advised to follow suit; there's one thing to add re. the scene here: If you have a car, and somebody slashes a tire, don't stay to fix it. Drive away on the rim.
OK, now you can't call me a pollyanna, and I still say, come on over.
Moving on.
One of the first sights of my morning, navigating purely by accident through the winding streets of the old city, was one of the many museums. You're not looking at it here, but you are looking at the banners that announce the museum, with a background of apartments next door.
It was a murky morning, with near rain and lousy light (excuses, excuses) but I like what I was looking at. My friend Anonymous asked yesterday what kind of camera I'm using. It's a Nikon D70S that normally gets passed around the Boston office, but with the West Coast office hunkered down on the Med at news central, it's my turn.
Farther along I wandered through the Royal Gardens, through crowds of schoolkids brought in to tour the natural sciences museum, and found a row of booksellers' booths, each dedicated to a different kind of libro.
I don't know what they were selling in this one, but it definitely had its fan club. I figure the curtain protects against sun in the summer, and yesterday it was about wetness—Kimball
Two wins, one of them easy—that was Wednesday for Luna Rossa.
Which leaves these two tied on points as we come to the halfway point of the second round and a meeting today. It oughta be good. The US boat won, the first time they met, but if you had any fingernails left at the end of that one, you don't know sailboat racing, my friend.
Elsewhere: Shosholoza got shut out by both of the top boats but can never be counted out. Skipper Mark Sadler said that his boat, "is still developing, and the crew is still improving, and we still hope to get some more wins." It could happen, but the final-four dream is shelved. As I listened to their Shosholoza fight song blaring during the dock-out, was that a whiff of premature nostalgia that I felt? For seven of these teams the axe is already whistling in the air.
Mascalzone Latino bought some time by drawing a bye and then roughing up Desafío Español but good, from the prestart to the finish. It was a new-look Mascalzone, with coach Cameron Dunn moving to the helm in place of Vasco Vascotto. It seems that the man behind the team, Vincenzo Onorato, noticed that Vascotto had lost five races in a row. With its new paint job (oops, the old paint was not class-legal), starting helmsman Jes Gram-Hansen locked Karol Jablonski out at the committee boat end of the start and then tacked to enter the course with speed while the Spanish team faced a forlorn tack-turn-gybe to follow. Dunn stepped in on the helm after that for the Italians, and everything went their way on a race they had to win. But the Spanish still hold spot number four.
Desafio over Areva, New Zealand over +39 and Areva, Victory over China, that completes a day in which the fascination was to watch Chris Dickson and the BMW Oracle team respond to serious challenges.
BMW Oracle d. Shosholoza—00:43 When "Dicko" and the boys (only a Kiwi could carry that nickname) met Shosholoza in round robin one, it took them 2+ legs to pass. In their second matchup, it took them 2+ legs to pass. We could spend an hour talking our way through the details of that, and if this were the America's Cup match, maybe we would. Or for now I could just say that Larry Ellison's BMW Oracle team made better bets, sailed cleaner, and had a boat that was a freckle faster at times.
BMW Oracle d. Victory Challenge—00:14 Thank you, gentlemen. This one was fun to watch. Here we have another chaser hoping to knock the Spanish out of number four. Two points against a tough opponent would have gone a long way for Magnus Holmberg's chances, and he stayed in front for three legs, but you have to say this about the white team. They're not invulnerable, and they're not perfect, but they are one intimidating opponent, and whoever gets a crack at Alinghi is going to have to go through them.
Poor Magnus must have felt like somebody picked his pocket.
Here he was, coming into the second weather mark with good speed on starboard tack and every apparent advantage. And here came Dickson on port, wanting to duck to get inside. So Holmberg put some moves on the white team. First he went up into the wind, to kill some speed and not be too far ahead. Then he hunted down—that's legal in match racing, though you still have to leave the other guy an escape. But Dickson not only escaped, he escaped with the goods. He took Victory's transom and wheeled up inside at the mark, carrying momentum, claiming the lead. And then carried Victory out to the south forty, both boats with poles set and spinnakers ready to go but not setting . . .
Not setting . . .
Until Holmberg gave up and tacked around to escape. It wasn't a pretty day, and this isn't a pretty picture, but it tells a story.
© Gilles Martin-Raget/BMW Oracle Racing
Case not quite closed; BMW Oracle had to keep on winning it for one more leg, but you know they did.
The weather mark moves were great action, and I'm giving a chunk of the credit to the match race circuit that has honed the skills of these people. It's not your father's America's Cup, and it's not your father's match racing.
Quote Unquote Gavin Brady
On the mental game:
"We never talk about losing."
On waking up in the morning:
"You go into one of these knowing that it's going to be a tough race, and if you make one mistake it can get away from you."
On James Spithill, Torben Grael, and the whole Luna Rossa team:
Luna Rossa seems to very comfortably split with the opposition and go for an advantage. When you sail with that kind of confidence, you're a strong team. I imagine Luna Rossa looks at us the same way, and we haven't really seen any weaknesses in them, but maybe some weaknesses will be exposed."
(What is not exposed, as yet, is the why, if any, of those jury boats down at Alinghi.)
REGARDING WALLETS
I took the long way to the port this morning. So did SAIL's über-editor Peter Nielsen. Fortunately for me, I indulged in a walkabout of some new parts (to me) of Valencia, while Nielsen, unfortunately for him, spent his time filing an incident report with the Policia about his mysteriously-missing wallet. Since the wallet did not have wings, we're assuming that he got pick-pocketed on Tuesday on the #19 bus that runs between the Plaza del Ajuntamiento and the port. Here's the 19 loading up at the plaza. The sign tucked into the front window reads, AMERICA'S CUP.
The little gizmo on the right is one of the miniature street cleaners that run everywhere, up the narrow streets, around sidewalks, through the parks—I think it does everything except windows. The Valencianos are aggressive about cleaning their streets. When one of these things comes down my tiny street, Editor Cabrerizo, it makes a double run, once each way.
Anyhow, there's been a lot of talk about Valencia and thievery. I wasn't ready to talk about it until now, but Pete's point of view fits with mine, and here it is: "Why blame Valencia for something that could have happened in Paris?"
We've had things happen around here, and it can be hard to know just what is the right perspective, but I think that's it. Most of my time and energy are taken up inside the America's Cup Beltway, but whenever I break out of it I enjoy the Valencianos. Simple exchanges often net warm smiles, and I've far from exhausted the sights. Pete let his guard down when he shouldn't have, but he also did some things right. He was carrying a minimum number of credit cards, knew how to make the contacts for the two that disappeared, wasn't loaded with cash, etc. Travelers anywhere, and certainly in the south of Europe, are well advised to follow suit; there's one thing to add re. the scene here: If you have a car, and somebody slashes a tire, don't stay to fix it. Drive away on the rim.
OK, now you can't call me a pollyanna, and I still say, come on over.
Moving on.
One of the first sights of my morning, navigating purely by accident through the winding streets of the old city, was one of the many museums. You're not looking at it here, but you are looking at the banners that announce the museum, with a background of apartments next door.
It was a murky morning, with near rain and lousy light (excuses, excuses) but I like what I was looking at. My friend Anonymous asked yesterday what kind of camera I'm using. It's a Nikon D70S that normally gets passed around the Boston office, but with the West Coast office hunkered down on the Med at news central, it's my turn.
Farther along I wandered through the Royal Gardens, through crowds of schoolkids brought in to tour the natural sciences museum, and found a row of booksellers' booths, each dedicated to a different kind of libro.
I don't know what they were selling in this one, but it definitely had its fan club. I figure the curtain protects against sun in the summer, and yesterday it was about wetness—Kimball
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
PONIENTE'D
"I think minimum and maximum wind limits should go. It may not always be fair racing under 5 knots, but we should get on with it. And if it's blowing 35 knots we should race, even if we have to struggle upwind with just the jib. We're meant to be the best sailors in the world; we should cope."
It's been months since BMW Oracle's Gavin Brady said that, but it came to mind for good reason today, the first occasion in this Louis Vuitton Cup when we've lost a race day for too much wind rather than too little. The poniente blows from the land to the sea. Today it blew in the twenties and above the agreed cutoff, touching thirty knots. The fleet floated around out there until 1600, when the whole show was blown off.
It wasn't even a very interesting dance card. Now we get to look at it again on Wednesday with less wind in the offing but not necessarily a stable wind. I had business ashore. Lucky me. And it was a holiday—May 1 is Labor Day in Spain—so the crowds were out. This is a lineup of people waiting to get to the airport-security-like entrance to Port America's Cup. The pic doesn't really show how long the line was--long--or the mass of people that get crunched together at the front. When I tried to take that shot, the Policia didn't like it. Something about security, I guess.
And these folks were lined up looking out at a nearly-empty harbor after the boats had left. But there were plenty of opportunities to buy a Mascalzone Latino beach towel for 100 euros.
This is one of the many cleaning technicians that work the grounds. I'd rather not speculate on the story of the flowers, but it gave me a smile.
I even made a quick trip back to my apartment in the El Pilar section of the old town, and I grabbed this pic in the garden of the Biblioteca around the corner. There's plenty to enjoy in Valencia. If you're thinking about coming, forget the bad press and come on—Kimball
It's been months since BMW Oracle's Gavin Brady said that, but it came to mind for good reason today, the first occasion in this Louis Vuitton Cup when we've lost a race day for too much wind rather than too little. The poniente blows from the land to the sea. Today it blew in the twenties and above the agreed cutoff, touching thirty knots. The fleet floated around out there until 1600, when the whole show was blown off.
It wasn't even a very interesting dance card. Now we get to look at it again on Wednesday with less wind in the offing but not necessarily a stable wind. I had business ashore. Lucky me. And it was a holiday—May 1 is Labor Day in Spain—so the crowds were out. This is a lineup of people waiting to get to the airport-security-like entrance to Port America's Cup. The pic doesn't really show how long the line was--long--or the mass of people that get crunched together at the front. When I tried to take that shot, the Policia didn't like it. Something about security, I guess.
And these folks were lined up looking out at a nearly-empty harbor after the boats had left. But there were plenty of opportunities to buy a Mascalzone Latino beach towel for 100 euros.
This is one of the many cleaning technicians that work the grounds. I'd rather not speculate on the story of the flowers, but it gave me a smile.
I even made a quick trip back to my apartment in the El Pilar section of the old town, and I grabbed this pic in the garden of the Biblioteca around the corner. There's plenty to enjoy in Valencia. If you're thinking about coming, forget the bad press and come on—Kimball
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