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THE MOMENTS THAT WIN RACES
Peter Scott
August 24, 1964
Sailboat races arc not always to the swift. In "Constellation" and "American Eagle" the U.S. has two potential cup defenders, either of which could no doubt hold her own against Britain's "Sovereign" and "Kurrewa" (see cover and page 27) if speed were the only criterion. During the next three weeks, therefore, as it tries to decide which of the two new yachts to pick as defender or whether to pass both of them by in favor of old "Nefertiti" or older "Columbia," the U.S. selection committee will be less concerned with a boat's speed when she is footing than with her crew's behavior in the jibes, tacks and sail changes—the seconds when alacrity on deck and a skipper's split-second judgment are what matter most. Properly handled, the spinnaker heading aloft in a tight bundle on "Eagle's" lee side as she nears a windward mark in the picture opposite may open at the precise moment necessary to give her a huge downwind advantage over her opponent. On the other hand, impatience, clumsiness, an order barked too soon or too late may turn the big chute into a vast, flapping handicap. As shown on the following pages, the crews of "Eagle" and "Constellation" have practiced maneuvers like these in turn after turn during race after race, knowing that only by their near perfect execution can the cup be successfully defended.
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August 24, 1964

The Moments That Win Races

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That both boats will have had some weeks of sailing in the waters off Newport is another important innovation over previous challenges. Each stretch of coast and shoreline has its own peculiarities. The seas, and particularly the swell, off Newport are almost unique. I believe Australia's Sydney Harbor has comparable conditions, and from Sydney Harbor in 1962 came Gretel to put up one of the best challenges to date. Certainly Newport's ocean swell differs from the strongly tidal and rather shallow waters off England's south coast which have spawned 15 unsuccessful challengers. Since 1958, when Sceptre made the first challenge in the 12-meter class, 10 of these boats have been built—three in Britain, one in Australia and six in the United States. Throughout these years David Boyd, who designed Sceptre as well as the new boats, has carefully watched the changes in hull shape. His latest design, laboriously tested with models in a tank, represents a skillful blend of all the developments which have proved successful. But the rigid international 12-meter formula severely limits the scope of a designer's originality. The component that may make the biggest difference this year is sails.

In 1962 the Australian challenger, Gretel, used almost exclusively sails made by the American sailmaker Ted Hood, who had made most of the sails for the defender, Weatherly, as well. Hood's sails, which are made from cloth he himself weaves, were at that time probably the best in the world, and it is doubtful if Gretel could have come so near to success without them. It is not only the cut of the sail that is important, but the actual weaving of the cloth, which must hold its shape during the strenuous pressures of racing. Australian sailmakers even took Hood cloth apart, thread by thread, to try to analyze the weaving process, but were unable to duplicate it.

After the Gretel challenge, the New York Yacht Club amended the deed of gift of the America's Cup, which has always insisted that a competing yacht must be designed and built in the country of origin of the challenge. The new version expanded the word built to include components, fitting and sails. There can be no American-made sails, not even American-made cloth, on the 19th challenger.

In 1958 when Columbia so easily beat Sceptre in four straight races, it was my view as spectator that most of the difference was caused by sails. And this was not necessarily because Sceptre did not possess better sails than she wore, but because too often she chose to hoist rather heavier sails than were needed for the weather on the day. Just having a locker full of good sails is not enough. You must use the right size, weight and shape of sail, the right combination of sails and then sail the boat properly under them. Steering an ideal course is not always possible in the long swells off Newport. Sovereign may be able to sail efficiently as close into the wind as 30�, and for that angle she might wear a rather flat jib and mainsail. But in heavy weather I might have to sail her at perhaps 35� in order to drive her through the steep seas which tend to stop her. At that angle she would need slightly fuller-cut sails. The same kind of considerations hold true of spinnakers. In a calm sea we can carry a large chute and manage to hold it steady enough to keep it drawing usefully.

In rough seas as the hull rolls and pitches, the top of the mast may be swinging through an arc of 60� and the course may yaw through 30�, both of which greatly upset the delicate balance of a large spinnaker. In that case it may be wiser to carry a small one which gives less power but can give it consistently, without frequently collapsing as a larger one does. Sails are the power which drives the boat. As such they are the most important component of all, and the component in which there may be the greatest variation between one boat and another. Sails made by Bruce Banks a member of Sovereign's afterguard, or by Franklin Ratsey Woodroffe of the long-established firm of Ratsey & Lapthorn, or by Austin Farrar of Seahorse Sails may not only be just as good—they may be even better than the current American designs.

Another innovation this year which may put the challenger and defender on more equal terms is the introduction of the Olympic course. In recent cup matches they have used alternately a six-mile windward-leeward course twice around, followed in the next race by a triangular course of eight miles to a side. The Olympic course, which will be used for all the races this year, is a triangle, then a windward-leeward round and a final windward leg to the finish. The total distance is still approximately 24 miles, but the pattern and the shorter distance between marks will make a considerable difference in the type of race. There are more marks to be rounded; five instead of two as in the old single triangle, or three in the windward-leeward. Next, there will be more windward work lumped together. The two old courses gave 42% windward work. The new course gives 55% windward work and ends with a beat, which may make a significant difference in the result. Finally, each leg of the course is much shorter, the longest being only 4� miles. A superior windward boat might gain two minutes on the first eight-mile leg of the old triangle and be almost uncatchable even by a boat which was better off the wind. The shorter legs will keep the boats closer together throughout the race because the same superiority to windward over only 4� miles instead of eight would mean a lead of only just over one minute. This in turn-would put the trailing boat within striking distance. The same effect is even more important on the running leg; the boat close astern with the capacity to get between the leader and the wind and thereby blanket her gives the trailing boat the initiative. So the Olympic course will serve to make the races more interesting and exciting for competitors and spectators alike. It requires, however, more than a casual knowledge of the rule book as close-quarter racing increases the chances of minor misjudgment, which can lead to a protest for infringement of one or another of the rather complicated code of yacht-racing rules.

Contrary to some other forms of sport, a protest in yachting rarely reflects on sportsmanship nor does it indicate any deliberate attempt to cheat. Nautical right-of-way rules are designed to keep vessels clear of each other so as to avoid collision. But yacht racing inevitably brings them close together in the needle-sharp competition, and there are certain areas of the racing rules—they have been called the twilight zones—where it is not immediately certain which of two or more rules may hold precedence. In the case of some of the twilight zones, it may be desirable to seek an interpretation beforehand from the race committee of the New York Yacht Club, for these are the situations when an honest difference of opinion can arise which is only resolved by reference to the race committee acting as a panel of judges.

Unfortunately, in yachting there are no minor penalties for minor infringements. Disqualification is the only solution if any infringement is proved to the race committee. For instance, invoking Rule 34, which is concerned with misleading or balking, raises differences of opinion among experienced helmsmen as to rights. To prevent an unfortunate incident it would be useful for the 12-meter skippers to understand exactly how the New York Yacht Club interprets this rule, which is particularly applicable during the maneuvering before the start. The risk of misunderstanding is too great, and the slightest hesitation when two 12-meters, each weighing 35 tons, are headed straight at each other at a closing speed of 20 mph (i.e., 10 mph for each boat) could lead to an uncomfortable situation. Races can be won, however, by invoking the right rule at the right moment.

In the first race here against Kurrewa, we won by the use of one of the simplest and most basic rules in the book, Rule 42, which states that the outside yacht shall give each yacht overlapping her on the inside room to round or pass a mark. Kurrewa was overtaking Sovereign by blanketing her on the run to the final mark which had to be left to port. Both boats were on the starboard jibe. Before they reached the mark, by keeping far to leeward Sovereign, at the right moment, invited Kurrewa to overtake her to windward. If she could get right through and clear ahead she could go around the mark in the lead, if she could not get clear ahead she must leave room for Sovereign to go around first. By careful timing Kurrewa was persuaded to take the gamble and failed to get clear ahead by only three feet. This meant she had to fall away to leeward, and 60 seconds later she was half a minute astern. Had Kurrewa made that last three feet Sovereign would have been the same amount astern of her.

All the hull speed and well-fitting sails in the world will make no difference if the rule book gives the advantage to the other boat.

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