Why We Race

Carvel Tefft, Bangalore

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 03:06:00 GMT

Our mascot, the Phoenix, represents the 77 year old cutter Bangalore. Having cut her teeth on the great lakes, winning two consecutive Chicago Mackinac races (1939&1940) and winning her class on five other occasions, she fell into disrepair by the early 1980's. At this point, Bangalore was, for the most part, in service as a party boat for a consortium of individuals who were not respectful of her racing pedigree.

We took our first sail on her in 1982, fell in love, and purchased her with the intent of bringing her back to the long distance racing that had comprised such a significant part of her past. And she was brought east to Portsmouth, NH to begin her reappearance on the racing scene, this time on the Atlantic.

When we entered our first Newport to Bermuda race in 1990, our crew was green, our sails were white, and our fixes were by Sextant. We managed to finish in the top half of the fleet on that race, and as in golf when one hits a reasonably good shot, it is enough to keep you coming back.

Since that first race, we have attracted an extraordinary nucleus of crew that relish the complicated challenge of negotiating the weather and gulfstream head to head against the best sailors in the world in (usually) the oldest boat in the fleet. Having tasted near victory by finishing second overall in 2000, nothing seems to suppress the urge of coming back just one more time to have another crack at our dream of holding high the St Davids Head Light trophy at Governors House. And with Bermuda as our destination every two years, the addiction that this race has become for us will likely be impossible to kick.

Dan Galyon, American Girl

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 03:03:00 GMT

Life can be a search for identity. Who am I? What can I accomplish? How will I be remembered? I came to the Newport-Bermuda Race the hard way- by doing other things first and discovering later where I really belong. My pursuit before competitive sailing was motorsports and I went about as far as you can go before turning pro only to discover that something was missing. Where was the esprit de corps in a solo, dog eat dog sport? Where was the beauty of blue sky and really blue water? Not around asphalt. Where was the fresh breeze? Not at a race track. Those are things an ocean racer yearns for from within himself- or so I found out. I started sailing, competing, and ocean passage making and found that inner desire for the sea that isn't explainable unless you have it.

Then, there's the personal side. There were great men that I had the good fortune to meet, some ever so briefly, who were veterans of this race- Rich Schulman, Howard Eisenberg, Walt Alder - they each tried to tell me something about themselves and what they do and why. And then it clicked. I belong there- out there, with others of similiar mind and competitive spirit. So began the process of entering my first Bermuda Race and the centennial event seemed like a good one to shoot for. My theme became- "Why not?"

I started with X-Yachts, a proven winner and a beautiful machine, went to the factory and did the deligence of a responsible skipper who is ultimately responsible for both safety and performance. Next began crew selection- finding good people who bring various talents that sometimes they don't even know they have, and then get them to work together as a unit. Sometimes push, sometimes pull- but always with a target that they give all they are capable of and have fun doing it. I sought advice from experts, weighed equipment choices and navigational options, got all our measuring done (twice!), read a lot, made long lists, lost sleep on the details, and had a blast doing it all.

Finally came the race with the excitement of first timers. No one on the boat had done this race before and I think the only reason the organizers let us in was a very long letter I wrote detailing all the work that had gone into this endeavor before the application was even available. That work paid off handsomely. "American Girl" performed well- her 8 crew never stopped racing, survived the close quarters of a 37 foot boat, and had an experience they will never forget. You know you picked the right men when they roll tack 400 miles offshore in a 5 day race to save, maybe, 2 seconds. It was a beautiful sail too, with gentle rollers and soft winds- much appreciated by those of us in small boats. We finished respectfully for rookies- top 25% of the Lighthouse fleet and beat a lot of big boats with much more experienced crews.

It's not just pride over successful participation in this historic race that I treasure. For me,and I suspect for a lot of other captains and crew, it's about fulfilling some kind of destiny. It's about who we are. And if you really know who we are, you know we'll be back.

John G. Coumantaros, Boomerang

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 03:02:00 GMT

As we all know, the Race is really 3 races: to the Stream, through the Stream, and the approach to Bermuda. The experience also has 3 parts: preparation for departure in Newport, the Race, and the Post Race in Bermuda.

As a 16 year old the Pre-Race in Newport consisted of trying to sneak myself into the Candy Bar at night and during the days preparing (with butterflies in my stomach) for the adventure ahead with all its risks and unknowns.

Once at sea and settled down in the watch rotation – the bonding begins - whether this is over the first night’s traditional meatloaf dinner (now replaced by freeze dried), making sure you don’t let your crewmates down, participating in tactical decisions or making the 6th sail change of the night inflicted by an overzealous watch captain or by truly variable conditions.

The second part of the race is the thrill of entering the warm water of the Stream- putting the cold weather gear below, bracing for the occasional squall, and going as fast as you can for as long as you can even if it means more frequent trips to the foredeck for (wet) sail changes.

Once out of the Stream comes the moment of truth: spotting masts and gauging how you are doing. Then, the approach to the island. Always a different finish; always so close, yet so far.

Of course once across the finish line at David’s Light, whether or not victorious, the two hour trip into Hamilton Harbor always gives one the opportunity to shift gear and anticipate the fun days ahead in the sun and sea of Bermuda.

The Newport Bermuda Race has always been about those special times at sea, amidst nature’s elements, with my crewmates and my Dad. I hope that for my boys I can pass on the great tradition of the Newport Bermuda Race-a right of passage in the very special world of sailing and the sea.

Charles F. Keifer III, Nirvana

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 03:01:00 GMT

Charles Kiefer has sailed NIRVANA, a 1982 aluminum MAXI designed by Dave Pedrick, in five Bermuda Races. She broke the race elapsed time record in her first Bermuda Race the same year she was built. In spite of setting that record, which she held for 14 years, she did not win the race or her class in 1982. Kiefer sails with an all-amateur crew, something that is rare in the MAXI world.

“She is actually luxurious,” reports Kiefer, “with a bath tub, a chest freezer, a fridge in the cockpit, surround-sound theater, heat, AC, genset, a full teak interior, 45 PSI hot water and a full commercial galley. And we use all of it while racing.” Kiefer hires a chef from the Mt. Washington Hotel to keep his crew well fed with gourmet meals served on china, complete with silver and crystal. “Even if we don’t win,” Kiefer adds, “we have a great time doing something we all love—in style. When we beat stripped out racers we enjoy it all the more, as a victory over modern technology with a traditional yacht.”

As an aging athlete NIRVANA doesn’t expect to win any more: her age and her IOR roots keep her from participating at the highest level with more modern boats. However, “she can still handle a race with dignity and class, and she can give the competition a fair run under the right conditions. She is sailed in blue water races because that is what she was built for, and that is where she feels the best.”

Schuyler “Chuck” Benson, Bandana

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 03:01:00 GMT

Chuck Benson has raced his Swan 47 BANDANA in the last eight Newport Bermuda races. Chuck has had the same crew each time he has entered his eight races, and is blessed with a plethora of that special brand of well rounded sailors who are not only first-class helmsmen, but perfectly at home on the foredeck. He is especially proud to sail with his two sons: “I have passed the captain’s baton back and forth between them. It is a special feeling to take my position in the galley, where I feel at home, and have the opportunity to look over my shoulder and watch my son Schuyler do his creative magic on the plotting sheets.”

Chuck loves sailing in the Bermuda Race with BANDANA “because the boat loves the sea.” While the Swan 47 was built for ocean sailing, she is equally at home along the coastline or on the Chesapeake. Her strength is heavy weather reaching: “she goes like a banshee.” In the light stuff she’s not so good on the reaching angles, but in light air windward work she does well as long as you don’t allow her 17 tons to come to a halt.

“Offshore camaraderie,” says Benson, “is a great experience and it always brings out the ‘jester’ on the boat. We have one crew member who will show up on watch in jockey shorts, a coon skin hat and sea boots. We just have fun, and push the boat as fast and as safely as we can.”

Benson is looking forward to his ninth Bermuda Race aboard BANDANA in 2008.

L. Scott Frantz, Ticonderoga

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 03:00:00 GMT

During the 1976 Tall Ships Race on the way from Bermuda to Newport, Ticonderoga sailed silently and gracefully past our family’s comfortable but ungainly Sorrento not ten minutes after the start. To a fifteen year old, who at age six had already become intrigued with the great L. Francis Herreshoff and his favorite design, Ticonderoga, this was a seminal moment; I knew I somehow had to find a way to sail on her some day. Little did I know, seventeen years later and through a whole series of coincidences, I would be putting my hand on her helm for the first time as her new owner and sailing her in numerous Bermuda Races.

She is now 71 years old and sails as beautifully as she did in 1936 right after her launch in Quincy Adams, Massachusetts, her birthplace. Others have said she is a museum piece, a vessel that should be carefully preserved as a quintessential example of yachting, racing and aesthetics of the era. We take a different approach. We love to race her, and we race her hard. To not be a part of the Centennial Bermuda Race would have been borderline criminal in my mind, so thirteen of us set out to do just that: to honor the most famous ocean race on its hundredth birthday and to celebrate 70 years of a very special yacht that has created immeasurable joy for thousands of sailors over the years. Although she still holds more elapsed ocean racing records than any other boat, the Bermuda Race is a predominantly upwind race, which is far less than optimal for Ticonderoga. Nonetheless, we were hopeful that by freak of nature we might see conditions for a broad reach most, if not all the way, to Bermuda.

Although it didn’t quite turn out to be the right kind of conditions for a good finish, we all had the time of our lives at sea, spending a day more than most other boats relishing amongst ourselves that we would have expended more time commemorating what we all know in our hearts is the greatest ocean race.

Rick Burnes, Cybele

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 03:00:00 GMT

What most people don’t realize who race in their 1st Newport-Bermuda Race is that they are beginning what could become a true addiction. There are many reasons the addiction develops, the beauty of a rough Gulf Stream in brilliant sunshine, the coordination of a well oiled crew changing a jib, the conversation and camaraderie sitting on the rail on a quiet evening and even the pomp of the ceremonies in Bermuda. These all bring us back. But the serious addiction is rooted in the nature of the course and its challenges, the ever changing Gulf Stream with its multiple eddies and the early summer, mostly gentle, weather patterns coming off the East Coast.

When our crew crosses the finish line the first topic of conversation is always that we will do it next time and how well we could have done. The “If only…….” thoughts are rooted in the Captain and Navigators hubris that we can figure it all out correctly the next time and we keep coming back and back like swallows that come home every two years.

Then there is the rare occasion when one does get it right and beats all the hot shots. It is a high that can only come from a real addiction and cements that a crew will not miss another race.

Sheila McCurdy, Selkie

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 02:59:00 GMT

I have raced every Newport Bermuda Race since I was 22 except for two times when I was sailing to Europe. I have raced on six different boats including skippering my family’s 38-footer Selkie to second overall in 1994. My father raced to Bermuda every two years for forty years. There must be a good reason.

Why do I race to Bermuda?

I am competitive, but there are ample opportunities for sporting contests near shore.
I am intrigued by the logistics of boat preparation that improve the odds of success well before the start, but I could organize other aspects of my life better instead.
I am drawn to the sparse simplicity of life on the ocean, but there are easier ways to venture to sea.
I love the teamwork and friendship of the crew, but 100 hours of steamy, close-quarters living may be excessive.
I love weighing the strategies and tactics that would serve my boat and crew best in the changing weather patterns and currents of the course, but I could develop a video game for about the same cost and stay dry and well rested.
I love seeing Bermuda rise from the horizon on a starry night or pink morning, but jets get there quicker.
I love the fleet converging in a sprint to the finish after days of solitude, but I could do finish line duty.
I love the stories of triumph and excuse at the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club as the fatigue and frustrations of the race wash away with the first shower and cold drink, but I could stay up all night and reread very similar stories from 2004 or 1932.
I love the reunion in Bermuda of sailors and families of all generations whom I have known for decades and see too seldom, but I could pick up a phone or drive down the highway instead.

I have no definitive answer yet. Maybe I’ll know after the 2008 Race. Come by Selkie at the RBYC, and I’ll tell you then.

Bruce & Dorsey Beard, Esmeralde

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 02:58:00 GMT

Sailing in the Newport Bermuda Race adds a huge jolt of adrenaline to our sailing calendar. We’re normally relaxed cruising types, but we bought Esmeralde, a Sabre 386, for her performance characteristics and the Newport Bermuda Race is the ultimate test of the boat and our skills. Preparing for the race helps to keep our boat it top condition, and competing keeps us sharp and competent. And, as all our friends like to kid us, the Bermuda Race double-handed is a pretty good test of our marriage…

We spend most of our time cruising shorthanded as a couple. For us the Bermuda Race is a great opportunity to competing side-by-side with some of the best short-handed offshore sailors that the racing community has to offer.

But beyond all the good parts of competition, a challenging ocean passage and the satisfaction of preparing well, you just can’t beat the pure thrill of it all, the sense of accomplishment, and the spectacular hospitality in Bermuda when it’s all over!

Richie Shulman, Temptress

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 02:57:00 GMT

In 1993, at the ripe old age of 51, I was lucky enough to be asked to participate in an ocean race as a physician/sailor because of a chronic illness of the owner/captain that had almost cost his life on his last ocean passage. That was my first blue water adventure and I never looked back – I love it – the challenge, the competition, the beauty, the great bunch of sailors on our crew: a group of “mature” men feeling and behaving for 4 days as if we are 16 years old in a football locker room.

In 1996 I saw George Coumantaros win the Lighthouse trophy – with so much class. It was as if he found the Holy Grail of sailing and winning a Lighthouse became a personal goal then. The question was: would I live long enough and would I be lucky enough to have a shot at it. In 1998, we lost by 2 ½ minutes – less than a second per mile. That meant a new boat – and in the second try with IMX 45 Temptress – the third boat over 12 years – we won in 2006.

And now with the monkey off my back, I am looking forward to 2008 with even more enthusiasm and excitement.