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

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

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?

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

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

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

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