Kiwis Don’t Enjoy Cruise to Mexico

At precisely 3:03 Wednesday afternoon, someone among the increasingly sleepy masses aboard the America’s Cup media boat made a startling observation.

“Look,” he said, “the Kiwis have someone up at the top of their mast.”

Another voice: “I wonder what he’s doing.”

I knew. Michael Fay sent someone up the mast to look for Stars & Stripes.

The outcome was not in doubt by that time. In fact, the outcome was not really in doubt from almost the beginning, when Stars & Stripes skipper Dennis Conner lollygagged through a few early tacks and still managed to build a steady lead.

Of course, this was the way the Kiwis said it would be. And this was the way Conner insisted it just maybe wouldn’t be.

Conner’s cat never even really had to pounce. It just slinked along, carefully eyeing the monster in its wake. It did not take any chances because it did not need to.

The race was not too far along before only a couple of questions remained:

--Would Conner and his crew stop in Rosarito Beach for lunch?

--Would the entire armada have to pass through customs on the way home?

That’s right, customs.

As it turned out, the biggest . . . maybe only . . . surprise of the day was that the race course would go north to south and back rather than east to west and back. Southerly winds took this whole extravaganza and sent it reeling off into Mexican waters. All it needed was a mariachi band at the windward mark.

Thus, it was a multinational regatta after all . . . American and New Zealand yachts and Mexican waters. It was the first America’s Cup race to cross international boundaries.

This was an interesting though predictable day, particularly for a writer accustomed to sitting in a press box and watching the game take place in front of him. It was also unique in that press boxes generally do not rock and sway.

Surprisingly, the media boat was not as far from the action as everyone warned me it would be. It was in the midst of the fray in the early going, along with enough power boats to churn the water behind the two racing yachts into a hurricane frenzy.

There were limits, to be sure. It was not possible to get close enough to see the zinc oxide on Conner’s lips or the grimace on Fay’s face.

Close meant being able to see what was happening, and what was happening was that Conner could have stopped at a convenience store in the Coronado Islands for a six-pack of his favorite diet soft drink if he had been so inclined.

As anyone who watched the race realizes, it got to the point where it was impossible to be near both boats at once. ESPN would have had to shoot from a satellite rather than a helicopter to do that.

At one point, when the two boats were off on different tacks in seemingly different time zones, the Stars & Stripes VIP boat was caught in the fleet trailing New Zealand. That might have been a delicious irony for the Kiwis if they had been of a mood to enjoy it.

There was only one point in the race when Stars & Stripes was being soundly beaten, and that came at about siesta time in Mexican waters nearing the windward mark.

A school of hooky-playing dolphins went by, probably on the way to Hussong’s Cantina. One of the onlookers from the media boat suggested that closer inspection would probably reveal that they were wearing “Marlboro” advertising.

Naw, there was nothing commercial about this, was there?

Only that Stars & Stripes has logos on its hulls . . . and only that Stars & Stripes put up a “Diet Pepsi” gennaker as it headed back downwind.

That was another first in a regatta replete with firsts. Never before had a yacht carried a commercial logo on its sail.

It would be easy at this point to denigrate Stars & Stripes for such commercialism, but it should be remembered that someone had to help bankroll the defense effort. Stars & Stripes has no Michael Fay to foot the whole bill.

It is also fair to applaud the seeming purity of the Kiwi effort. New Zealand is a magnificent yacht, certainly the most majestic to sail for America’s Cup in maybe half a century.

Unfortunately for the Kiwis, there are no beauty marks in America’s Cup competition. It’s a yacht race and not a boat show. The idea is to get there AFAP--as fast as possible.

Thus, Stars & Stripes went out ugly and won pretty . . . as in pretty handily.

At one point on the downwind run, New Zealand looked almost like a ghost ship in the distance. The Pacific Fleet might have sailed between Stars & Stripes and New Zealand and not disturbed either with its wake.

Stars & Stripes ended up winning by 18 minutes 15 seconds even though it hardly appeared to work up a sweat. Conner knew he had the race in hand, and he did the smart thing. The catamaran’s main weakness is its fragility, and there was no reason to test any upward limits Wednesday afternoon.

The only upper limit anyone reached in Race 1 was the Kiwi on the mast. And it was too bad for him, because he missed the margaritas.