Hairy is fast
We sailors are a superstitious lot. In fact, I suppose sports people are generally, when you think about it. Watch how the tennis players at Wimbledon go through the same ritual of bouncing the ball five times - or whatever it might be - before taking a serve. It's almost like a nervous tic, but sports psychologists say that it helps get them in the 'The Zone'.
It was one of Bjorn Borg's rituals never to shave during the course of the Wimbledon fortnight, and it served him alright. He's not the only one, either. Watch how Ben Ainslie transforms into Grisly Adams as the Olympic Games regatta unfolds next year in Athens. I believe it was during the 1996 Games when he raced out of his 19-year-old skin to win silver, that he first discovered that not shaving was fast, and he's used this unkempt approach for subsequent important regattas, too.
But there's a much more universal superstition in sailing that I'd like to talk about, and it's that one about not having anything green anywhere near your boat. In nautical terms, green is the colour used to designate a wreck, so it's understandable that some yachtsmen wouldn't want to have that colour on their boat. Not that it seemed to do illbruck any harm in the Volvo Ocean Race. A more lurid green you couldn't have possible dreamed of, and yet they swept all before them, and without hitting an iceberg either. Then again, there was that other green machine, Team SEB, whose race was a catalogue of disasters, what with the rudder falling out of the bottom when someone forgot to tighten the bolt, and then their mast falling down in the Southern Ocean.
Green is slow
I had this green discussion with my crew Nick Murphy recently. "I don't believe in that," he said, "but I wouldn't have green on my boat." Which pretty much summed up my feelings - I'm not one of those superstitious idiots, but keep that green burgee away from my boat! The trouble was, we were down in Spain competing in the 49er Europeans, and we were running out of tape. I'd bought one of those rainbow packs of about six or seven different colours, and guess which one was left at the end.
We were having a crap regatta anyway, and somehow I'd forgotten how to sail, so I figured that if we were doing that badly without the green tape, how could it get any worse? So on went the green tape, around the shroud and forestay fittings, and all the other usual bits and pieces that we cover up before racing. Well the first day, the race committee sent us out in perfectly good steady wind, only to send us back in again without a race. I don't know if we could really blame the tape for that one.
But the next day, they banged off the racing and there we were, minding our own business as we were about to round the windward mark when a Spanish boat bears away into us and gets both of us well and truly jammed together as we bear away downwind, the wrong side of the windward mark. After much pointless shouting and a futile exchange of abuse, we extricated ourselves. And surprise, surprise, we finish second last, with the Spaniard last. Fortunately no harm done to either boat, but Nick's ankle had taken a crushing between our wing and his leeward gunnel, and he could barely stand on his leg.
So the moral of the story is never, under any circumstances, resort to using green tape on your boat. Give it to your closest rival instead.
Graduates
Talking of superstitions, I had a chat with a keen Graduate sailor from Chipstead recently, Alan Warren. Alan has figured regularly in the top three at the Nationals, and hopes to do the same when the class meets for this year's outing at Lake Bassenthwaite in the Lake District. He'll be using his five-year-old Hyde Sails, because he can't buy a new set for love nor money. Alan rang up Hydes last year and they told him that they were no longer making sails for the class. It just wasn't worth their while. Alverbank is the most popular choice for the class right now, but the bigger problem is the lack of a boatbuilder.
In fact, honorary class secretary Stewart Eaton told me they are desperate to find any good condition secondhand Graduates that might be kicking around sailing clubs or people's front gardens, gathering moss. If you own one, then get in touch with the Association as they'd be only too pleased to hear from you, and you're in a seller's market too. The last one was built by Butler Boats a couple of years ago, but Stewart says the fortunate thing is that the old ones go just as fast as the newer models.
"The right person could win the Nationals with a £100 boat," claims Stewart. I raised on eyebrow at this claim until he pointed out that Graham Cook wins virtually every event he competes in with a Graduate for which he paid the princely sum of £75. Fireball sailors may remember Graham as a former Fireball National Champion from the mid-80s when winning the Fireballs was about the toughest national class around. Since then he has risen through the ranks of the Police and doesn't have much time to get out on the water. The odd bit of Graduate sailing with his son is about all he can manage. But his success proves Stewart's claim about old boats.
Stewart believes the class is close to deciding on its next builder, and estimates that a new Graduate will cost £4,000. In the meantime, the class is considering a proposal to adopt Kevlar sails. Whether this will really add anything to the class is hard to imagine; they already use Mylar so there is likely to be little speed gain in Kevlar, but perhaps more longevity in the cloth. The Association is also building up towards its 50th birthday celebrations in 2005. For such a little talked-about class, some of the names of past Graduate sailors might surprise you: Kevin Sproul, Cathy Foster, Lawrie Smith and even Simon Le Bon. For the under-25s, Simon Le Bon is better known as lead singer of 80s pop combo Duran Duran, a bit like Coldplay but with make-up and Brummy accents. I don't think Simon's that busy these days. You never know, maybe he'll do the entertainment for the Graduate's 50th.
Youth Worlds
Congratulations to Alison Martin and Bethan Carden for winning a bronze medal at the ISAF Youth Worlds in Madeira. It was however, the only medal for Team GBR this time. Collectively the British performance was solid, with a few near-podium finishes giving Britain fourth best nation. Australia were the runaway victors with three golds and one silver, the best performance ever at a Youth Worlds. The French, who have been consistently been the most successful nation at youth level in recent years, finished second overall.
Compared with the dazzling display by Team GBR at Olympic level, it seems surprising that we can't achieve more at youth level. There was a time when it seemed GBR excelled in the Youth Worlds and yet brought home just one medal from each of the 1984, 1988 and 1992 Olympiads. After the medal haul in Sydney, the RYA would be disappointed if it flew home from Athens next year with less than three gongs.
So why has Britain's dominance shifted from the youth arena to the arguably far tougher Olympic arena? Perhaps it is simply that there was a golden patch of sailors who came through the youth programme in the late 80s/early 90s - the likes of Walker, Robertson, Ainslie and Percy - who have just grown up and brought that same level of achievement to the Olympic sphere.
It is also worth noting that Britain sent a young team this time, with virtually all the representatives eligible to compete at next year's in Poland, so perhaps there is more to come from the current crop of youth sailors. Nevertheless, are there any lessons to be learned from the medal winning approach of the Aussies and French? Simon Wergan says that both countries' programmes are more elitist in their approach, picking out the very best sailors early and working very intensively with them for many months leading up to the event.
Medal Machine
This sounds like the approach of Victor Kovalenko, who coached the Ukrainian 470 team to a gold medal in the 1996 Games in Savannah, and then did the same for Australia in both the men's and women's 470 at the Sydney Games. Now his remit at the Australian Yachting Federation is much wider, so it would be no surprise to find that his methods lie behind Australia's new-found excellence at youth level.
Whether or not the RYA would want to follow such an elitist approach is another question, however. The French have never really managed to translate their youth achievements into consistent success at Olympic level, so perhaps this elitist angle works in terms of getting medals at youth level, but narrows down the pool of potential Olympians too early. In any case, it would be politically difficult for the RYA to make their youth programme any more elitist than it is already. Against the desire to win medals they have to temper the more liberal ideal of participation for all.
Besides, Simon Wergan says they are well on track to exceed the RYA's stated target of 10 medals at major youth events across the board. The Brits finished first and third at the 29er World Championships in northern Spain, and then achieved the same podium success a week later at the Europeans in northern Germany. So that's four medals in two weeks. Not bad going. The Argentineans were strong in the 29er with their top team finishing second in both events. But not much sign of the Aussies or Kiwis.
The Aussies dominated the last Worlds in early 2002, held on Sydney Harbour, but none made the trip this time. In fact, I've heard there is very little 29er activity generally in Australia. As for the Kiwis, well, their intentions were good and many teams purchased a second boat to put in the container for the Worlds in Spain, so that they could continue training in their other boat until the last moment before they flew to Europe. All fine and dandy, until they received a rather sheepish phone call from the shipping company that their container load of new 29ers had safely departed Auckland, and arrived safely in, err, the South Island...of New Zealand. Sounds like the dreaded curse of the green tape to me.