We’re greeted on the quayside by Team Manager Murray, a
calm, smiling figure, who’s been sailing with Neville for
seven years now and manages the boat fulltime. Think of him
as a Jean Todt in foul weather gear and you might be close
to the type of abilities he has to have to keep this ship on
track during the season. He’s full of reassurance as he
invites us on-board. The first impression is of a
purposeful, pure racing machine, a craft that has been
designed without compromise to be the fastest yacht on the
waves. There are no extras on this boat. It bristles with
clusters of LCD screens everywhere to provide crew members
with a sheaf of real-time information whatever their
position on the boat. Murray invites us to ‘stow’ our
equipment, which involves dropping it through a flush hatch
on the deck into a darkened void which looks like it is
filled a mass of sails and rope. These guys don’t cater for
passengers. He explains some basics about the yacht although
most of this goes straight over our heads. Our first plan is
to make sure we don’t get in the way.
We gingerly explore the boat,
the towering mast thrusts upwards into the clear blue sky as
crew members on electric winches dart up and down at
breakneck speed preparing the yacht for the sea. Below decks
it is all, irredeemably and totally functional; there is no
‘galley’ or rest area. One has to crouch low and clamber
over huge piles of sails – all of which seem to be part of a
well organised system – despite the chaotic appearance.
Stowing 44 metre long sails which weigh around 80 kilos
each, and have to be available to be hoisted at a seconds
notice in a raging sea, is no simple feat. A system of lines
(ropes) that drags them rapidly through ducting running the
length of the boat is incorporated into the carbon fibre
design. Hard to quite work the method out – but fortunately
the crew who flit across this mass of canvas like agile
spiders seem to know what they’re doing. It is also
noticeable how everything is carbon fibre – even down to
details such as the handrails and instrument bezels. The
steps down below are polished carbon fibre, carefully
moulded for maximum effect – a work of art.
A big modern
racing maxi like Alfa Romeo is a floating physics lab, a
very careful blend of science, intuition, force vectors,
wind loading, levers and pulleys and leverage machines, all
of which must be mastered by a crew that knows without being
told precisely what to do in every condition. And the head
of this beautiful piece of gear is Neville Crichton, who
acts as conductor to a symphony of man and machine which
will be played out on moving, often momentous seas.
The boat leaves the jetty
with typically professional precision and glides into the
harbour. Neville will be joining the yacht today very
shortly; he’s currently with the organisers. The crew has a
core of Australian and New Zealand sailors, supplemented for
the race by a number of new faces. A briefing is held for
all crew members, led by Tommy Braidwood, the ‘coordinator’.
The utter professionalism is immediately evident. “Let’s get
on with it, we have a big programme to get through today,”
he says, “Let’s not be stopping talking about the old days.”
The new and the returning faces are straight into the
groove. Everyone is numbered off; these guys have names like
‘Nitro’, ‘Jono’ and ‘Dingo’ and they look like they’ve just
walked off a Foster TV commercial. Big and burly blokes, at
13 stone I feel very fragile in this company. “Nev likes
numbering to be done,” Tommy says, adding for the benefit of
the new members, that the skipper is a perfectionist; “he
likes everything done just right”. The boat is certainly
perfect, the attention to detail amazing. “Let’s keep him
happy,” Tommy concludes. Perfectionism is something to be
encouraged at this level—to be imperfect can not only cost a
race, it can create a very difficult at-sea condition (i.e.
a catastrophe). Let’s not forget this is very serious
business, despite the fact that it’s conducted on a
multi-million dollar platform.
Alfa Romeo
continues to move under the power of its 230 bhp Yanmar
diesel engine, which also powers the winches and keel, the
latter having to shift through 90 tonnes of water each time
it is adjusted. When not in use the ships propellers retract
like landing gear on a plane for minimal drag. Despite being
constantly in use, this diesel engine only consumes about 40
litres of fuel a day.
We glide past the new
‘Spinnaker Tower’ on the Portsmouth waterfront which seems
at first glance to be ‘mini’ version of the renown Burj Al
Arab Hotel in Dubai, world-famous for its similarity to a
sail; while the huge grey naval vessels, including an
aircraft carrier, moored up, are a reminder of this port’s
historic naval traditions.
Alfa Romeo’s RIB [Rubber
Inflatable Boat, a small inflatable support craft] comes
into view, bouncing across the waves. Our skipper, Neville
Crichton, jumps onboard. He has the bluff, rugged look of a
man of the sea. Almost immediately he comes over to welcome
us onto his yacht, shake our hands, invite us to look
around, and briefly explain today’s programme. It’s a very
nice touch, so often in these situations the ‘big’ man
eventually finds time to speak to you for a few seconds.
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