1989-90怀特布莱德环球帆船赛

01

Southampton replaced Portsmouth as the start and finish port and around 4,000 boats carrying an estimated 50,000 people gathered in the Solent for the send off, a show that Steinlager 2 stole when she whizzed out ahead of everyone else to grab a 16-nm lead by nightfall.

Her speeds were awesome, and assisted by helpful winds, Blake and his crew set a new record when they covered a remarkable 343 nm in a 24 hour period. Fisher & Paykel had also been hurtling along, but six days before the finish they dropped off the pace without explanation. They arrived in Punta del Este without their mizzen. Dalton had refused to divulge this vital information to anyone even though the main mast was unaffected, lest it conceded an advantage to his opponents.

Not surprisingly, Steinlager won the leg, beating Merit by 12 hours and Fisher & Paykel by 30. The leg duration, anticipated to be 30 days, turned out to be a whole week less. Rothmans arrived fourth, one and a half days after Steinlager 2, and Smith, who returned to England for a break, was distinctly riled by the Kiwis’ success.

But according to Big Red, the account of the race written by Steinlager 2’s Glen Sowry and Mike Quilter, the British skipper’s posturing served as a great motivator for the New Zealanders. “Smith was quoted in the British press calling us cheats on the basis that no one has ever seen Blake’s boat out of the water. We were not sure what he expected to find on our keel. In retrospect, Smith was probably just trying to unsettle us but in reality, all he achieved by this accusation was to make us even more determined to beat him. All the same, we were not enjoying Smith’s broadsides and on a few occasions embarrassed Rothmans crew came up to us in Punta and apologised for their skipper’s comments.”

The Corinthian spirit of the old days had disappeared along with cocktails at dusk. The prevailing culture was now one of professionalism, pressure and cut-throat competition.

The first casualty of that intense pressure was Alexei Gryshenko, co-skipper of the first ever Russian entry Fasizi. He made little secret of the fact that he had not enjoyed the first leg and informed the management he would return home for a break then resume the race in Fremantle. A few days into the stopover however, he went missing. Some believed he had defected while others assumed he was having time out after spending the previous 12 months coping with the stress of building the boat and finding funds. His crew became worried when he did not return after 24 hours and the American co-skipper Skip Novak alerted race officials, who tipped off the local police chief.

Before the police were able to locate him, Gryshenko was found by the local media. His body was discovered hanging from a tree in nearby woods and before long, the television pictures, which featured images of him before he was removed from the noose, were being broadcast around the world, including Kiev where they were seen by his wife and family.

It was a ghastly time for everyone, complicated by a lack of understanding as to what had led to such a tragic end.

“We didn’t know why he had committed suicide, but we certainly could assume that the pressures brought to bear by the project, by the rushed and often confused construction in Georgia, the panic in England where he spoke not one word of the language, his lengthy absence from his young family, all must have contributed to his illness. In his planned return to Kiev, possibly he saw himself as a failure,” wrote Gryshenko’s co-skipper Skip Novak in his book Fazisi, the Joint Venture.

02

Still in Punta and the crews were rocked by another tragedy 11 days later when Janne Gustavsson, a popular crewmember on the Swedish maxi, The Card, had a motorbike accident and was knocked unconscious. Without a helmet, the head injuries proved serious and he fell into a coma. The doctors pronounced him brain dead and at the request of his family, turned off the life support system.

The sadness was palpable and everyone was desperate to get going again, to leave the bad memories behind, but the weather in the Southern Ocean was forecast to be especially bad which filled the first-timers with dread. As ever, the huddled chats in the corners of bars manifested themselves in a series of crew changes and Smith was once again the bad guy after he poached Gordon Maguire and Henri Hiddes from NCB Ireland to bolster his Rothmans crew. The project manager of L’Esprit de Liberte did a runner with £100,000 and the crew's passports, while the skipper of British Satquote Defender was sacked for incompetence. It was all going off, but against the odds and to the delight of everyone, Fasizi joined the fleet for the start of the second leg.

Steinlager 2 led the fleet out of Punta and again all eyes were on the four big maxis at the front as they made their selections over the best route to Western Australia. To save weight, Steinlager had offloaded both coolers and heaters, but as the temperatures dropped, this decision was starting to look short-sighted. The crews felt compelled to log details of their hardship. “Getting dressed to go on watch in these conditions was a major ordeal. Having been woken by one of the on-watch crew dripping freezing water over your face off his wet-weather jacket with an encouraging, ‘It's bloody wet and cold up there and you’re the next lucky contestant, it's time to extract yourself from your lovely warm sleeping-bag and begin to get dressed’. Having slept in your polypropylene long johns which tend to become a little uncomfortable and smelly after ten days, you pull on a woollen sweater, a fleecy-lined bodysuit and a couple of pairs of socks. Slowly, you begin to warm up again with the exertion of pulling on even more layers. Next comes the waterproof, fleecy-lined jacket and leather-lined rubber sea boots. Then you clamber into your triple-lined wet weather trousers and jacket with a built in harness. All that remains is to pull on your balaclava and two pairs of gloves. Normally it is at about this stage of proceedings that, bearing a striking resemblance to the Michelin Man, you experience an urgent desire to go to the toilet.” (The Big Red)

Merit, Rothmans and Fishpie, as the Steinlager crew called Fisher & Paykel, took a more southerly route into iceberg territory and picked up some wind, leaving Blake’s boat trailing by 100 nm.

On Creighton’s Naturally, a sudden and violent broach thrust Bart van den Dwey and Tony Phillips, a cousin of Princess Anne’s husband Capt Mark Phillips, overboard. It was around 0300, the seas were big and confused, and although both men were wearing life-jackets and equipped with flares and personal radio beacon, the business of recovery took more than 45 minutes which put their lives in the balance.

Skipper John Chittenden recorded each development in detail. He recalled, “The first man, Bart van den Dwey, was recovered and successfully resuscitated. Tony Phillips was recovered and resuscitation continued for three hours without success. Bart’s lifejacket was inflated. Tony Phillips’ was not. He hit a stanchion as he went overboard and it is thought unlikely that he was conscious once in the water. Two crew-members, Barry Mercer and Julian Morris, went into the sea three times to assist with their recovery. Both actions were in my opinion heroic – Julian’s in particular. A few days later, by radio agreement with relatives ashore, Tony Phillips was buried at sea.”

In all, seven crew disappeared over the side in the second leg. All but Phillips were recovered, a sign of the growing awareness of safety and an increased professionalism among the crews who were once more tested to the full by the battering they received in the Southern Ocean. Spinnaker poles and booms, arms and legs, breakages were rife and it was only after the Kerguelen Islands that things began to quieten down, though not before Fortuna had created a new 24 hour speed record, notching up 405 nm, the first time a monohull had cracked the magic 400 nm a day run. They came to a crashing halt when crewmember Rafael Tibua broke his ankle in two places after being hurled against the mast by a breaking wave and it was left to the four big guns F & P, Steinlager 2, Merit and Rothmans to engage in a fierce battle for the second leg into Fremantle.

The intrigue was heightened when the last few miles were completed in the dark. Just 22 nm separated the four and the drama continued right to the end. Reports filtered through that the leader F&P had parked up in light winds. Blake hoisted his biggest sails and soldiered on, to cross the line first, around 90 minutes in front. Then Rothmans and Merit staged a breathtaking match-race for second place. Sails went up, came down, went up again and there was a feeding frenzy on both decks in a desperate bid to grab the extra yard. In the end it was Smith on Rothmans who flung the boat over the line in front, by the mere matter of 28 seconds after a nerve-jangling 7,558 nm and 27 days of racing. Unbelievable!

A week later, Maiden crossed the line first in her division, achieving the best result for a British boat in the Whitbread for 12 years. Since this leg was acknowledged as the most difficult since the Race started, it was an extraordinary result and the enormous publicity put Edwards and her crew in the forefront of the public’s attention in Britain and across the world. Interest in the boat and the Race had never been greater.

03

After a few unseasonably hot days in Australia, spent mostly making essential repairs interspersed with some heavy-duty partying, the crews ploughed straight back into turbulent waters. Gale conditions and heavy seas provided them with an uncomfortable Christmas at sea though a few crews persisted with stockings and champagne, and repeated the exercise on New Years Eve. Not so the crew on Steinlager 2, who were so keen to become the first Kiwi boat into Auckland that all evidence of seasonal niceties, such as presents and fresh food, had been ditched in Fremantle to save weight. They feasted, as ever, on freeze-dried fare of curry and sponge cake washed down with a mug of tea and a few gripes.

Beyond the Tasman, the winds calmed down though the competition between the maxis remained as furious as ever. The leaderboard offered up a new scenario with every position report. With 245 nm to the finish, nine nm separated the first three boats. Steinlager 2 led F&P by four nm, with Rothmans in third and Merit just 11 nm behind. Further back, the track began to look like an obstacle course as sperm whales paid little heed to skipper’s and navigator’s plans and Charles Jourdain came a cropper after a side-on collision, the crash leaving a huge 3 meter hole in the hull. Fortunately it was well above the waterline so the French crew got to work on patching it up and carried on.

The wily Grant Dalton turned off his navigation lights after he rounded the North Cape and was given a dressing down over the radio by Blake, brandishing his rule book. Meanwhile Blake ordered all 15 crew on deck then tuned into the local radio channel to get some idea of the conditions around Auckland. This initiative was to prove inspirational since it prompted a change of sail that gave her a smooth passage through a ferocious 40 knot squall. Dalton meanwhile was still flying his kite and lost time as he reconfigured, allowing his rivals to stretch their lead to a nm.

It was too late to recover and the guys on Steinlager 2 sat back and enjoyed the rapturous scenes around them, as they crossed the line less than six minutes ahead of Fishpie.

“The rookies on board, who hadn’t sailed a Whitbread before could not believe the spectacle that was unfolding in front of us as boats of every shape and size came out to welcome us home. Even those of us who had experienced an Auckland Whitbread finish, could not believe the incredible enthusiasm of the thousands who had braved the shocking weather to watch Big Red make history.” (Big Red)

It was the first time a Kiwi boat had won the leg into Auckland and the celebrations were unprecedented. There were similar scenes when Maiden crossed the line three days later.

Around 14,000 people gathered on the dockside, even though it was one in the morning and the cries of support grew more excited as news spread that Edwards had once more won the leg in her class.

“I didn’t think we could win the third leg,” she wrote in her autobiography Living Every Second. “Now I started to dream about winning the entire race. We had extended our lead in Division D to almost 18 hours.’Steinlager 2’, which headed the maxis, had nowhere near this sort of lead.”

A few hours later, Edwards heard she had also won the coveted Yachting Journalist’s Association Yachtswoman of the Year Award, conferring on her a recognition by a previously sceptical British sailing media of which she could never would have dreamed. It was the first time a woman had won and it was a source of great pride to Edwards that her determination had forced some highly respected seadogs to eat such hefty portions of humble pie.

04

Concerns over the congestion in Auckland Harbour were brought home to roost when at the start, The Card’s mizzen became entangled with the mast of one of the thousands of spectator boats and snapped. Skipper Roger Nilson decided to dump it over the side and sail on as a sloop, but issued instructions that it be recovered and shipped to the Chatham Islands where they would stop and restep. Good idea in theory, but the mizzen was so badly damaged, it could not be mended in time so eventually had to be sent to Punta. Amazingly, her new-style rigging responded well in the light airs off Cape Colville and she careered through the waters and into the lead.

Not for long. The Kiwi maxis hit their stride before the sunhats had been replaced by balaclavas and quickly took the lead as the Southern Ocean beckoned. Rucanor Sport, Bruno Dubois’ Belgian boat, had to give up and return to Auckland after she collided with a whale and suffered damage to her rudder, while things below deck on Maiden started to resemble a casualty department. First Mikaela von Kuskull was knocked unconscious by Maiden’s boom then Michelle Paret was hurled into the wheel by a massive wave. Claire Russell, the doctor, strapped Paret into a bunk and kept her there for four days, eschewing all offers of help from other boats.

As Steinlager 2 and F&P rounded Cape Horn just five nm apart, Brad Butterworth, the watch captain, revealed to Dalton over the radio that they were carrying an extra crewmember, “After a period of stunned silence on F&P, Brad told them who our ‘extra’ was. While in Auckland, Peter was approached by a family of an old Cape Horner, Frederick Thomas Chapman who had recently passed away. Chapman sailed around the Horn on the barquentine Garthneill in 1924 and his family thought it fitting that we scatter his ashes as we rounded the Horn. Soon enough he came to be known as Dusty Chapman and was considered by all of us to be a member of the crew. We were sure he enjoyed his last voyage to Cape Horn.”

The rivalry between the two Kiwi boats proved endlessly entertaining as they banged and crashed their way through the Strait de la Maire between the Atlantic and Southern Oceans.

“With 1400 nm to the finish, we were clearly going to have our hands full to keep Fishpie at bay. Our first night in the Atlantic saw the breeze crump up yet again and Dalts pull up to be almost even with us. Mike (Quilter) was in the nav station and called them up on the VHF, telling them ‘You guys really piss me off!’ This was answered over the airwaves with a chorus of giggles from the F&P nav station.” (Big Red)

But things became a lot more serious when a few days later, all the boats heard the dreaded message. It came from a radio operator on Martela, who with a discernible sense of panic relayed the following words, “Mayday. Mayday. Our keel is falling off.”

This was followed by a latitude report then silence, a clear sign that they were in trouble. In fact, the operator got out of the hatch just moments before Martela capsized, leaving the crew on the upturned hull. Merit and Charles Jourdain immediately went to their rescue, but for a few hours, fears for the crews’ safety gripped the fleet and it wasn’t until the Martela crew had been picked up did normal service resume with everyone thanking the gods that the accident occurred in the Atlantic and not in the Southern Ocean.

Blake donned his lucky red ski socks in preparation for another ding-dong with Fishpie and the race to Punta was on, the last 100 nm offering 55 knots of wind to hasten their arrival. Once more it was Steinlager 2 who for the fourth time in four legs, tipped over the line first, this time by a mere 21 minutes over the despairing Dalton.

The incapacity of Paret on Maiden cost the all-female crew the lead and by the time they arrived in Punta in third place, L’Esprit de Liberte had posted a 17 hour advantage. Edwards, however, remained convinced they could still win the race.

05

Fort Lauderdale had been added to the course in an attempt by organisers to raise the race’s profile in America. The reality for the crews was a series of long, slow and unbearably hot days, though there were plenty of tales of tomfoolery from the Punta stopover to keep spirits high, at least until the Doldrums had been and gone.

Smith led for much of the 5,475 nm leg and for once, he seemed to be enjoying a dose of good fortune. But his lead evaporated in a blink of an eye when an unusual weather system gave boats to the west of Rothmans a surge of speed, the two Kiwi boats included. For the rest of the leg, it was a two man show with Blake making it five in five with a 34 minute win over Dalton. His reward was a four foot six inch burger specially prepared by a local restaurant which kept the Steinlager 2 crew busy for the four hours until Smith joined them on the quayside.

A navigational error on Maiden saw them fall behind Rucanor and L’Esprit and although they achieved a disappointing fourth place, the boat’s arrival in Fort Lauderdale was the most conspicuous one of all time. Making the most of their fifth leg tropical tans, they donned their swimming costumes and gathered up on deck. The crowd went mad.

06

Since the outset, the Whitbread Race had kept the public enthralled. Like an eight month mini-series, it embraced every element of sporting and human drama with a full cast of extraordinary characters. But it was not over yet and the final leg was only 12 hours old when the first alarm bells were sounded.

Herve Jan on Gatorade reported a broken spreader which forced them into Jacksonville to make repairs. A few hours later, Rothmans skipper Lawrie Smith reported a broken shroud which forced them into Georgetown in South Carolina for repairs, with two Lear jets specially commissioned to fly in parts and people. They had time for a Big Mac before carrying on, but the delays destroyed any lingering hopes of a last gasp victory for Smith in his home port.

On the fourth day, Steinlager 2 was also in trouble. A chain plate holding the main mast and mizzen shroud failed, forcing helmsman Brad Butterworth to crash gybe to save the rig. But Blake was determined to continue even though the mast was in danger of coming down and his crew spent all night working on a new fitting that would keep them going at full speed to the finish. And besides, no one knew of their difficulties because he refused to report the breakage knowing that F&P would seize on such a valuable opportunity. One of the F&P crew had already commented wryly that God seemed to be one of Steinlager 2’s main sponsors and this would only fuel their resentment.

A couple of crewmembers on Steinlager 2 had formed close liaisons with a couple of girls on Maiden so the girl’s boat’s progress was watched with interest by the race leaders. The news that she had collided with a whale and then was spun 360 degrees by a waterspout, leaving them with a twisted mast, was received with concern, but there was little that could be done and they returned to the task in hand, which was to win their sixth consecutive leg and smash all existing records.

The top part of Satquote’s mast fell off then F&P suffered more problems with their mizzen, NCB Ireland broke a running backstay and Merit’s chances took a knock when a mast fitting failed. The race had started as a demolition derby and was finishing in the same vein after 32,000 nm of constant battering.

Another pattern was repeating itself in the closing stages. Four days from the finish, the crews from the two Kiwi boats could see each other and just before Lands End, the match-racing between them started with a vengeance. Off the Lizard the pair were within three boat lengths of each other, the lead held by Steinlager 2 and once again Blake cancelled the watch system and pulled on his lucky socks.

“Throughout the last night at sea, we had everyone sitting with their legs over the side to get every ounce of speed out of Big Red. It was working and the F&P boys could make no impact on us. Fishpie dropped even further astern and with the tide about to turn in our favour for the last 20 nm, we slowly began to relax in the knowledge that they couldn’t catch us.” (Big Red)

They couldn’t and didn’t. Dalton arrived in Southampton 36 minutes in arrears.

“A simple handshake and a look into their eyes was all that was required. Like us they had given this race their hearts and souls and had been formidable competitors.”(Big Red)

The fifth Whitbread Race belonged to the Kiwis who put on a magnificent show by producing such close finishes in four of the six legs, the margins ranging between six and 90 minutes. Steinlager 2 may have won every leg to win six Beefeater Trophies as well as the Whitbread Trophy, and the history books will record the race as being monopolised by Blake, but in truth, the contest was a true classic for being so nerve-rackingly and compellingly close.

Blake was awarded an OBE for his sailing endeavours and bowed out of the Whitbread Race to pursue other interests. Tracy Edwards too was recognised with an MBE in the New Years Honours list for her remarkable achievements in finishing 18th overall. Smith was just off the podium in fourth place while the brave Russians on Fasizi defied all the odds to complete the course in 11th place.

There had been plenty of drama, but surprisingly, only two boats, Martela and Rucanor failed to complete the course. The Whitbread had become the most prestigious offshore yacht race, bar none…and plans for the 1993-94 event were already being hatched.