I normally look forward to the arrival of a new issue of Seahorse magazine, but the one that landed on the doormat this week has upset me. I am sure I am not the only RORC member/Rolex Fastnet race competitor dismayed by the tone of Andrew Hurst's editorial.
Headlined “Cause for concern?” it basically takes a pop at the 211 out of 271 Fastnet starters who retired, accusing us of wimping out in the face of a little “discomfort.”
“If you enter a race with the intention of finishing if the conditions remain benign, then I arrogantly suggest you should think twice before taking up the resources of organisers who have every right to expect fleets to be aware of what they are taking on,” he thunders.
He is right to own up to arrogance, anyway. He also admits to bias, having “the dubious distinction of being one of an elite group of Admiral's Cup skippers to have been hauled through an enquiry because I failed (his own italics) to retire from a race, our boat having suffered considerable, but not in my view terminal damage.”
But was he the one who was going to have to pick up the bill for repairing that damage?
Says Mr Hurst: “I believe that many people should be asking themselves, much more honestly: 'How badly do I want to do this, and do I really know what to expect if the forecast is wrong?'”
Let me answer that: we wanted to do it badly enough to devote a frightening proportion of the year's household income and nearly all our annual leave from full-time jobs into doing the qualifying races, delivery trips and so on, as well as the Fastnet race itself.
Mr Hurst appears to have absolutely no concept of the degree of commitment - time even more than money - required to mount a Corinthian offshore campaign. And yes, we knew exactly what to expect if the forecast was wrong, and we'd have put up with it.
The point is that the forecast was right. The RORC took it seriously enough to postpone the race and the competitors took it seriously enough to heed the organisers' warnings. And thanks to those 211 retirements, there were no serious accidents or casualties. Would offshore racing have survived in its present form if there had been a repeat of the 1979 drama? I don't think so.
In today's health and safety and risk assessment culture, there would have been media outcry, followed by a public inquiry and so many restrictions would have been put in place afterwards that the sport really would have had “cause for concern.”
Those boats retired for all kinds of reasons beyond “discomfort.” And the retirees weren't all amateurs, either. Dee Caffari, the current Yachtsman of the Year, who has proved her toughness sailing solo round the world the wrong way, was one of them.
On our boat we were fortunate in that we had no major gear failure, nor injuries to crew. But we had friends' sons on board. Should we expose them to risk unnecessarily? Already in a full gale, with a worsening forecast, and a safe port of refuge within reach, it would have been arguably irresponsible to continue.
We didn't want to risk avoidable damage to the boat, either. Like most amateurs, we go without an awful lot to run our boat. We couldn't afford to trash it. Nor did we want to write off a new suit of sails, which on our budget need to last rather longer than a single season.
We - and most of the 211 - retired for sensible, seamanlike reasons. Mr Hurst should look beyond the sponsored superstars and consider the reality for the vast majority of competitors in offshore racing, which he rightly describes as “the most fantastic, wonderful activity.”
What offends most is his ill-considered assertion that the Corinthians are “taking up the resources of the organisers.”
As a high profile spokesman for the sport he surely ought to appreciate that it is the Corinthians who pay the vast majority of the entry fees and so provide the resources that “elite Admiral's cuppers” and sponsored superstars depend upon.
