Advertisement

Kiwis Are Keeping a Low Profile but Ply the High Seas

Share
SPECIAL TO THE TIMES

The kiwi is the national bird of New Zealand but, wingless and nocturnal, it is seldom seen in the wild and seems more mythical than real.

So it is too with the lost host of America’s Cup 2000. Without defender trials, Team New Zealand has become the Amelia Earhart of sailing.

All the commotion caused by 11 challengers from seven nations--now six from four going into the challenger semifinals Jan. 2--has made it easy to forget that the only purpose of the whole four-month exercise is to select a single offering to the current gods of the sport.

Advertisement

It didn’t occur to anyone that when that time came, the gods might be out to lunch. Where are the Kiwis--the sailors, not the birds--anyway?

“We’ve been having some great races, some great battles,” TNZ sailor Simon Daubney said, momentarily surfacing.

But New Zealand’s races have been strictly intramural and just for practice.

“We just don’t have the feeling you get before a race, and we could do with some more spectators to make it a bit more real,” Daubney said.

Otherwise, the challengers have taken over the Kiwis’ 10-mile-wide pond that is the inner Hauraki Gulf. New Zealand won’t hoist a sail in anger until Feb. 19 when the Cup Match starts, and then the best-of-nine series could be over in a week, two at the most.

Daubney has trimmed the headsails for New Zealand’s boats in all five America’s Cups since 1986-87 at Fremantle, Australia. This is the first time he’s been on the defense side and is counting the days until his racing starts for real.

The anomaly is the result of TNZ’s own decision to shut out other defense teams, rather than water down what limited sponsorship funding is available in a land of only 3.7 million people. But the Kiwis haven’t been marking time.

Advertisement

“For the last three months, the focus has been on racing,” Daubney said. “We’re fine-tuning our boats and sharpening our tactics and crew work. When we race, we have a full course, with a starting line, marks and even [on-water] judges.”

Daubney was speaking by cell phone from one of TNZ’s two new 80-foot boats, “trying to stay out of the rain,” he said, as the crew headed out for another day’s work.

Rain or shine, the Kiwis leave their base by 9:30 in the morning, usually earlier than most of the challengers. Some days they don’t come home until 7 at night, on the last dying breeze.

“When we first started testing and training it all seemed like a long, long wait,” Daubney said. “But now, it’s almost upon us.”

TNZ has two full crews, a luxury it couldn’t afford when it alternated two boats to win the Cup at San Diego in ’95 but had to fill in with shore workers and office staff. Russell Coutts, who drove the Black Magic boats then, is still the skipper. Young Dean Barker, a world-class match racer in his own right, drives the other boat. The crews rotate.

Occasionally, they encounter challengers where the courses overlap. Last week it was Paul Cayard’s AmericaOne from San Francisco.

Advertisement

TNZ crewman Craig Monk wrote in his Sunday Star-Times column:

“AmericaOne, with [backup helmsman] Gavin Brady at the wheel, and ourselves got so close that Sean Clarkson from their boat actually touched our spinnaker.”

Apparently, AmericaOne had the right of way, but the Kiwis didn’t yield.

“Just two teams holding their ground,” Brady said.

Daubney downplayed the incident as innocent, but the Kiwis made a point: They are still around and eager to compete, no matter how long they have to wait.

Advertisement