Photo by Drew Harper/Spinnaker Sailing
A statement from Artemis Racing
Artemis Racing today held a private ceremony commemorating the memory of our friend and teammate Andrew “Bart” Simpson. After eight bells, a wreath was cast upon the water by representatives of the four teams of the 34th America’s Cup. Then the morning’s rain parted and sunshine spread across San Francisco Bay. The Artemis Racing team thanks everyone for their support. Bart, may you rest in peace.
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Following the first meeting of the America’s Cup Review Committee on Thursday in San Francisco, teams have been asked to suspend all sailing in AC72 and AC45 catamarans until the middle of next week.
The Review Committee is scheduled to meet with the teams for the first time on Friday morning.
Here is a response submitted to SailingScuttlebutt.com in response to the pickup of The Prototype blog. I would note that it was not “submitted.”
From Dan Meyers – Newport, RI:
As I get older I figure that I have seen all of the foolishness in the world, but this week the nonsense submitted to Scuttlebutt is appalling.
Mr. Clark, I disagree with your assertion (in Scuttlebutt 3838) that Andrew Simpson “died well”. That he was a wonderful guy and a champion professional racer seems incontrovertible. But athletes are not gladiators to be thrown to the lions. They want to compete, enjoy the sport, the people they sail with and against, be fairly compensated, and then at the end of the day go home, hug the wife and kids, have dinner and go on. This is a tragedy, nothing less.
Mr. Livingston, for you to use this awful accident (in Scuttlebutt 3839) as a bandwagon to promote mostly yourself as a visionary, the venue which is in absolute contravention of the Deed, the promoters who have misrepresented every material development – economic, cost, safety, participation etc, etc, etc – is plain absurdity. But then to twist this around and bash Ernesto Bertarelli is stunningly wrong and in bad taste.
The Cup didn’t need a rescue; many believe the 2007 version was the best ever. A dozen or so teams, millions of spectators, hundreds of thousands of jobs and a host city transformed. Safe and close racing, sometimes with the winner determined by a single second. Mr. Bertarelli has been out of this for years. He has gone back to the sport itself, actively participating as a true yachtsman. And you then have the hypocrisy to complain about “the politics of the past”? Take your garlands and fig leaf and do something anatomically impossible with them.
We now must wait to see what will be done for future safety, to prevent another catastrophic accident that is too likely as the boats get more urgent and in closer proximity of racing. I am no expert, but smaller wings would help, or much lower wind ranges. This was all so predictable, and it is a tragedy that it took a death for others to admit it.
Lastly, if you can’t behave with decorum, how about trying it for a brief period so Andrew Simpson’s family, friends and teammates can bury him and grieve without this stupidity buzzing around their heavy hearts.
Sander van der Borch
The America’s Cup match of 2010 was a rescue. The direction of the Cup under Alinghi post-2007 was so sour as to convince Louis Vuitton to bail out, remember? Only a risk taker with tenacity, resources and experience in hostile takeovers—Larry Ellison—could have undertaken the mission. So I guess we’ve reached that part of the movie where Princess Leah looks to Luke Skywalker and says, “Some rescue!”
It was all so pretty, wasn’t it? Finally, Stan Honey would get financing to move the sport onto a viable television platform. At last, America’s Cup boats would represent the Loud Now and not the cutting edge of some previous decade. It would happen live for tens of thousands of eyeballs and be broadcast for any number more. We would see the fruition of Tom Blackaller’s quip, 1987, “If we ever get the America’s Cup to San Francisco Bay, we’ll show the world how good sailing can be.” And in catamarans? Blackaller would have been in clover.
And now this. I woke up this morning, and Andrew Simpson was still dead.
All the platitudes apply, just as I’ve heard them from one person or another over the past few days. He died doing what he loved. All sports have accidents, and sometimes we lose people. All true, but of no help in this place, at this moment, and too mindful of Ellison as quoted by Julian Guthrie in her upcoming book, The Billionaire and the Mechanic. With his maxi, Sayonara, delaminating in heavy seas between Sydney and Hobart, Ellison declared to himself, “What a stupid way to die.”
It would have been an easy call to stay with monohulls for business as usual, after Oracle Racing and the Golden Gate Yacht Club captured the Cup. But the upward arc of business as usual (11 challengers in 2007) was interrupted by two years of courtroom headlines, and I lay the blame for that at the door of Ernesto Bertarelli, with garlands and a special fallen fig leaf cluster.
The TV people told Russell Coutts that business as usual, even amped up, would never hold their attention. Not everyone could give a hang about the TV people and their view of sailing, but the event went for the not usual, and we’ve crossed a threshold. For the first time in the history of the galaxy, not one but two TV teams set up cameras in front of my house. When the big guys aren’t talking, the press talks to each other. I did my best to say something useful, and I think I did, but who knows what part runs. I mean useful as in parsing out this: The conversation about what anomaly caused Artemis to implode is completely different from the conversation about relative safety while racing AC72s.
The AC72 conversation is not complete without a reminder that the good old single-hulled boats of the previous cycle included OneAustralia, which cracked open and sank in 1995 in one of the more vivid two-minute sequences in the annals of televised sailing, and Young America, which”cracked open in the Hauraki Gulf but not below the waterline, and so it didn’t “quite” sink.
I was nowhere near the meetings where these things were discussed, but Tuesday’s press conference confirmed what I believed, that when everybody has had a deep breath, or several, we will pick up where we left off, and we’ll go racing. I figure that Artemis will trial its new boat, and if this one isn’t a dog, they will race, hard. Maybe they will race, even if.
Luna Rossa and Oracle are likely to resume sailing on Thursday. New Zealand’s first scheduled sailing day is May 23.
I am keenly aware that Artemis has asked that we “not persist in unnecessary rumor,” but the news cycle does not stop. The void will be filled. When the Cup came to San Francisco, I was thrilled. My mouth was all over it. I beat the drum hard. Talked it up on radio and TV. If the same people call me now, I think I have an obligation to do the best I can with the situation.
The German Sailing Federation withdrew its financial support for the German youth team for the Red Bull, but the team has not withdrawn from the competition, no matter what you may have read. You should have no trouble finding plenty of sources for accounts of the appointed international review committee that was announced today. It would just be fodder here.
Going forward, there will be some ugly talk. You may have seen it in the forums already. But a chunk of the more polemical stuff coming from abroad has its origins not in this moment but in the politics of the past. There were good reasons for all of the decisions that got us here. Each AC72 is a prototype, and America’s Cup 34 is a prototype, and with a prototype, you don’t know where the edge is until it’s behind you.
This is where we started, 27 years ago, trying to bring the America’s Cup to San Francisco Bay . . .
(Credit needed, probably Robert Campbell)
Thursday, May 9 may never be completely behind us, but I look forward to America’s Cup 34.
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I am advised that the Newcastle Herald story, previously linked here, is a “grossly inaccurate” account of the Artemis crash, from halfway around the world. It is duly removed.
I remind all involved that a void will be filled.
For a bit of perspective on the America’s Cup as a development platform, and the risks of pushing the envelope, here is an essential read from 1995. And then (and only then) you should relive the drama at OneAustralia swallows the ocean.
Yes, it’s hard to look at Erik’s pic.
When it’s my people.
ABClocal/KGO
The local team in the Red Bull Youth America’s Cup, American Youth Sailing Force, explored the edge over the weekend, and peeked (and peaked) over—
With seven more boats, this picture would have been complete
Hallelujah, the Vega Carina made Barbados from Trinidad late Wednesday, presumably with The Container aboard and its contents of seven 5O5s, masts and sails for another dozen or more boats, and international juror Vicki Gilmour’s rule book.
Unfortunately, Wednesday was a holiday, so even an early arrival would not have meant an offloading, and even an offloading, whenever it happens, won’t mean jack. Because there is no hope of getting The Container unsealed and its contents through Customs in time for Friday’s final race of the SAP 5O5 World Championship. Even if it would be worth it to try, and it wouldn’t. A dark cloud and rain closed out a day of sunshine as the ship came in. Of course.
Some folks have already packed up and gone home, Krysia Pohl, for example, who greeted the news of the impending arrival of the Vega Carina with a wry, “Just in time.” A few other orphans have lucked into rides as replacement crew, and Jeff Miller was “happy” just to get out on a press boat after declaring it his mission to speak against MSC Shipping “for the rest of my days.”
Gosh, Jeff, it’s only time and money. And a lot of both. Figure now that the thing gets shipped back to the West Coast without ever being unsealed, and the sails for various Europeans can be mailed from there.
In other news, a consolidation day moved Stefan Boehm and Gerald Roos to the top of the leaderboard after six races. Got a good story about the race 5 winner, but have to write it for the regatta before I can take more time here. As a great American once said, gotta go.
Like the SAP 5O5 Worlds on facebook: SAP 5O5 Worlds
Follow the action on twitter: Twitter Worlds
Does God think that because it rains in torrents I am not to go to Peru
And destroy the world?
Doesn’t relate, quite, but it’s a gangbusters line and I’ve always wanted to use it. From the wonderful, fierce poet, Ai. And it did rain in torrents, straight down, with no wind on Monday in Bridgetown, Barbados and destroyed plans to sail race five of the 2013 SAP 5O5 World Championship
God’s judgement on the meanderings of The Container?
Said object being now anticipated to arrive in Bridgetown on Wednesday aboard the Godot, I mean the Vega Carina, last spotted via AIS in Port of Spain, Trinidad. Spotted frustratingly briefly via marinetraffic.com. And then the icon disappeared. For all I know, The Container has been abducted by aliens, yep yep yep.
RED HAT PARTY GETS REAL
I reckon I have a dozen or more Mt. Gay caps, all of them earned, some of them hard-earned, and a few that I’ve given away. And I reckon I’ve been to Mt. Gay parties on more than one coast and in between, but tonight they’re opening the doors to the temple. Barbados is the home of Mt. Gay Run, the source, the fount, the beginnings of which you and I and whats-their-names are the end consumers. Their web site tells me—
Every great story begins with a time and a place. For Mount Gay Rum that time and place is the Caribbean Island of Barbados in 1703. Rum, originally called “Kill-Devil” by the Barbadians who first distilled it, is truly a product of the island. The abundance of molasses combined with the culinary ingenuity of early settlers and, of course, their legendary thirst for alcohol lead [sic] to this unique discovery in the production of spirits.
I’m still struggling, however, with the information that Sir John Gay partnered with John Sober to run the company.
THE CONTAINER
With seven boats aboard, masts, and sails, the absence of The Container has rocked this event, but not in a good way, at least for the West Coast contingent. A fortunate few shipped their boats to Barbados last winter for a look-see and some practice. The rest, well, the rest would consist of
Jeff Miller/Mike Smith
J.B. Turney/Justin Shaffer
Krysia Pohl/Paul Von Grey
Anne Fitzpatrick/Christian Pittack
Holt Condon/Reeve Dunnes
AND Jason Tindale/Robert Povey of Barbados. SAP co-founder and 5O5 enthusiast Hasso Plattner shipped a boat so that there were would be an entry from Barbados, which has no indigenous 5O5s. These guys are still waiting for their first ride. Hasso brought his own boat down last winter.
The waiting crowd has been touring, snorkeling, paddle-boarding, all the things that, in a different context, would be just great.
Me, I’m through writing.
The sun’s breaking through. I’m off to the next yachting hellhole.
The walk home looks like this—Kimball
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Come my children who love the sea, and all who sail upon her,
A tale I would tell of a wayward thing, a truly vexing bother,
Lost, not quite, nor forgot, not at all, for I speak of the one, The Container.
‘Tis known she rests on a shipping dock. Good news? You could sight her,
But this dock, this day, was meant I must say for shipping some other
Danged container to some frikking place other than the frikking 5O5 Worlds.
Do you have any idea how hard it is to rhyme “Worlds?”
Below we see Paul Von Grey pondering problems that have no poetry to them at all.
[ Editor: : Ahem, surely you're not labeling that doggerel as poetry.]
How people at 5O5 regattas are supposed to look (background) and—
Von Grey started last September, as a volunteer, organizing shipping from the West Coast. He recalls, “People asked why was I starting so early . . .”
The Container left the West Coast in early March. Plenty of time, if only it had kept on moving instead of being sidelined, first in Panama and then in Trinidad.
Loaded with six 5O5s from the West Coast, sails, masts and international juror Vicki Gilmour’s rule book, The Container as of Friday late was sitting in Trinidad’s Port of Spain while certain of the 76 entries in the 2013 SAP 5O5 Worlds in Barbados were asking each other questions such as Von Grey’s, “What would it take to unseal The Container and get the boats through Customs in the nine minutes before Customs closes until Monday?”
With the MSC Challenger tied up dockside over the weekend for loading/unloading, the Vega Carina—scheduled to pick up and then deliver The Container to Barbados, oh, a week ago or so—lay at anchor in the harbor at Port of Spain, waiting for parking space. Maybe Monday? Tuesday?
Various schemes were considered.
Charter a vessel for a special delivery because, after all, what used to be “the missing container” is now simply The Container and has been identified sitting idly dockside. That mission priced out at about $50,000 in fuel costs, so maybe not.
Charter a plane. Um, same problem.
Send in James Bond.
Yep, the only practical solution.
Aussie Carter Jackson was proclaiming—without benefit of alcohol—that the whole fleet should refuse to race until the missing boats arrive. Noble talk, but it didn’t launch a movement.
Late Friday, the hardworking Von Grey sent a note to tell us that, “We have exhausted all our affordable options. We are going to wait for the elusive Vega Carina. The reliability of the plane, crew, and logistics on the ground were beyond reasonable.”
And yes, Barbados is lovely this time of year, and we’ve had some good racing. Germany’s Stefan Boehm and Gerald Roos swept out of the shadows to win both races on Saturday, the opening day, leading at every mark except one. On Sunday in race three they were looking as if they might be out to do it again when a big black cloud came through, and suddenly the gasping gang on the right-hand side were off life support and ready to boogie. Aussies Sandy Higgins/Paul Marsh won race three, but that took some help from an unfortunate collision between American Parker Shinn (upwind) and German Olympian Tobias Schadewaldt (leading, downwind). Schadewaldt dropped to third and then hit the beach with some rigging work to do and some paperwork for the jury.
This pic by Christophe Favreau is here because it’s just plain pretty . . .
Come race four, it was all about another German pair, Claas Lehman and Leon Oehme, emerging from a long hiatus, five months without sailing, because, “It’s f’ing cold in Germany”.
Lehman, a cardiac surgeon, advises, “If your doctor is a sailor, never schedule your operation on a Friday, because he’s in a hurry to go sailing. And never schedule on a Monday, because he’s been sailing.” See below for a picture of the hands of a surgeon—Kimball
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