When I learned that the brigantine Kaisei has returned from its 2010 Pacific voyage in time to participate in a Parade of Sail on San Diego Bay, I was reminded of a conversation I had with Norton Smith, soon after Kaisei’s 2009 voyage. The ship’s crew and a boatload of scientists had been studying plastic pollution in the far ocean, in the Pacific gyre, sharing the expedition with a Scripps research vessel and noodling on the question of whether or not it would be possible to clean up at least a chunk of the junk.

The man was not optimistic.

San Diego’s parade of sail. Photo by Charlie Neuman, San Diego Union

Perhaps if there really was “an island of plastic as big as Texas” out there, as some people imagine, it would be possible to harvest it at a profit or, at a price, for the common good. Instead, we’re talking about something even more insidious, steadily-degrading tiny bits that don’t quite go away but come back to us, presumably, through the food chain.

Sure, you see some big chunks. But, “We filtered down to one-half micron,” Smith said. “We wanted to know about the nano-sized particles that are out there. Nobody had done that before. It’s crazy that we’ve invented this substance that is marvelous but doesn’t go away, and so much of the time we use it once and throw it away.”

When you throw something away, where is “away?”

Lots of junk in the ocean washes into the various gyres, pushed in to the calm but cluttered regions at the center of tradewind circulations.

It might be helpful at this point to interject an excerpt from Explorations, published by the Scripps Institution of Oceanography: “The expedition was designed to locate and study plastic and other marine debris in the gyre. But finding the stuff wasn’t guaranteed. In some ways, the voyage would pay tribute to the grand oceanographic exploration days of yesteryear when seagoing scientists plunged into the great unknown of the ocean frontier. SEAPLEX (Scripps Environmental Accumulation of Plastic Expedition) was designed to learn something about the scope of the debris problem. It’s quite possible, [Chief Scientist Miriam] Goldstein said, that the graduate student researchers leading the trip . . . might not find any plastic in the gyre.

“But less than a week into the voyage such provisos evaporated into wisps of sea air. The plastic indeed was there in the gyre. And there was lots and lots of it . . . The thing that has shocked me and I think the rest of the science crew is just how much plastic is out there,” said Goldstein.

“During the survey in the inflatable boat, Goldstein used a quadrat, a frame that defines an area of ocean surface, to gauge the quantity of plastic in a given area. At maximum, she detected 11 pieces per square meter. “That’s a lot of anything to be out in the open ocean,” said Goldstein. “The thing I found sad and shocking was that we could see some amazing, cool creatures just below this thick layer of plastic. Here’s this very unstudied ecosystem where not many people come and there is all this stuff floating at the top that’s a sign of industrial society.”

TALKING TO NORTON

It was special to talk to Norton Smith because I remember him as the winner of the very first solo Transpac, 1978, edging out the legendary Skip Allan. And this may strike you as quaint, my dears, but once upon a time, staging a Singlehanded Transpacific Race was controversial.

Then Norton Smith kinda sorta disappeared to a farm in Oregon. But, naturally enough, he’s been doing plenty since, just not sending out press releases about it. For example, a 60-day solo kayak trip through the Northwest Territories, and there was something about a steel ketch, now in Maine, that might do for the Northwest Passage. But I don’t think Norton would have taken the call for the sake of talking about himself.

Norton Smith. Photo by Jan Person

A few years back, Smith caught an NPR segment on the Plastiki project, and on a visit to California he called on the Plastiki team thinking “maybe that would be a good thing to get into; then I saw that it wasn’t happening and maybe would never happen.”

Actually, Plastiki came out fine, but only after the project was re-re-redefined and considerably delayed. Smith, meanwhile, discovered Mary Crowley’s Project Kaisei and threw himself into that, which was no minor matter. Think very large steel brigantine, built in Poland, rewired at some point in Japan, and it had to be made compatible with US standards, with lab space for the science team. “I don’t have a degree in anything,” Smith said, “but I have enough background in science—I started as a physics major at Johns Hopkins, but I’ve always been distracted by sailing off to somewhere—anyway, I have enough background to act as an intermediary between sailors and scientists.” From Mary Crowley’s point of view, he pretty much rebuilt the ship singlehandedly and if that’s an exaggeration, it’s an exaggeration that tells a truth.

On that 2009 voyage, Smith’s particular interest was plastic removal. “I built four devices,” he said. “They were designed to passively collect debris using swell or current, because towing a net is not going to work at a commercial level.”

In theory, old plastic can be converted into diesel, for example, but I’ll assume I don’t have to explain in detail why there is no obvious, immediate, commercial application for sending ships out to the middle of the ocean to scoop up plastic bits for processing.

Smith put it this way: “There was one method that worked well, an artificial beach made of plywood attached to a sea anchor. But is it commercially viable? I would say no. You have the capital costs, the fuel burn to get on station, and the plastic you collect is badly degraded and just doesn’t have the mass. The real solution is to stop making plastic that doesn’t degrade, to stop using this miracle substance in single-use applications, and stop dumping stuff in the ocean.”

The 2010 voyage of Project Kaisei was aimed at furthering the investigation into collection, for example. The ship is only just returned, so it is too early to expect a report, but it is troubling to read other reports that remote islands have roughly the same accumulation of debris as industrialized shorelines. It was debris on South Georgia Island in the Southern Ocean that inspired one-time round-the-world record holder Ellen MacArthur to set aside record-seeking for environmental activism: She said: “I never thought that anything in my life could eclipse sailing, I didn’t think it was possible. But after being in South Georgia, the more frightened I got. I realised that on land we don’t see things as precious. We take what we want. This world, that I thought as a child was the biggest, most adventurous place you could imagine, is not that big. There are an awful lot of us on it, and we’re not managing our resources as you would on a boat because we don’t have the impression that these resources are limited. When you sail on a boat you carry a minimum. You don’t waste anything. You don’t leave the light on; you don’t leave a computer screen on. And I realized that on land we take what we want. You’d never do that on a boat. If you need some kitchen roll, you tear off a corner, not a whole square. But someone somewhere thought that a perforated line is what everyone needs.”

Almost simultaneously with Kaisei’s return to California, the California legislature shrugged off an opportunity to ban plastic bags, per this account at the Huffington Post.

Both houses of the legislature did, however, vote unanimously to invite America’s Cup 34 to the waters of San Francisco Bay. 2014 will be a banner year.

And the Orange County Register is running a jim dandy pic of a green flash HERE.

And we are following the Finn Gold Cup racing HERE
It’s major mojo downwind in this fleet . . .

Next stop for me: Howland’s Landing, Catalina Island. Byee.

Now it’s time to see the America’s Cup dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Old Man Herreshoff—he built a catamaran in 1876 that kicked the pants off the New York fleet and then was summarily banned—oh, he’s out there chuckling somewhere.

And I speak as someone who owns more than one blue blazer.

But only one double-breasted.

If I fall into the category of half-paying attention as Canadians Fred Eaton and Magnus Clarke defended the Little America’s Cup, it’s only because I was on a different shining sea, chasing Finns on San Francisco Bay and then heading south to sail in the coolest big-boat regatta you’ve probably never heard of, Long Point Race Week.

Which is only three days long.

You have a problem with that?

All photos © Kimball Livingston

Here was the best-looking fleet I’ve seen on the California coast in a while. Top talents, fast boats, a totally laid-back atmosphere. We raced from Newport Beach to Catalina Island on Friday (in time to party) and on Saturday we sailed a short race around Ship Rock that got us back to the start/finish in good order (in time to party). Then we raced home on Sunday (with the party pretty much wrung out of most of us).

Arriving at Moonstone

The bocce court was popular by night

And the bocce court was popular by day

Sea Diamond made a brilliant mother ship for good ole Ragtime

And our crew could hang on our own mother ship

Sam Heck trimmed main and entertained


Long Point 2010 had 43 boats, including some modern classics and one old timer of a classic, Chubasco. Back in the nineties, Balboa Yacht Club had an annual race weekend out to Catalina on Saturday, home on Sunday, and that was OK except that people wanted some island time at the club’s beachhead at White’s Cove. White’s lay just a few hundred meters west of Newport Harbor Yacht Club’s beachhead at Moonstone, and this is where the plot thickens. BYC approached Newport Harbor Yacht Club with a proposal for the three-day format as described, with each club hosting a night ashore.

The kickback above Balboa Yacht Club’s cove

This year, with a south swell threatening to prevent landing people and supplies at White’s, NHYC took on the job of feeding 400 people four times in three days at Moonstone—an outstation, you should know, with water access only. Imagine the logistics.

Brad Avery steering Magnitude 80

I sailed with NHYC Commodore Brad Avery on Magnitude 80, ever the fleet-footed workhorse of the cant-keel group and now in the hands of the Orange Coast College School of Sailing and Seamanship. More fun than a barrel of monkeys let loose with 80 feet of boat that wants to hunt. Results HERE.

We had some light spots. We also had times of looking at 15+ on the speedo.
Close quarters beating up the island

Tyler Wolk on point with Val Stephanchuck and Mike Price

Ned Lyon and Dave Kruger stand by to trim

Brad with tactician Ernie Richau

Alchemy is one of the all-time campaigners

In race three, Medicine Man had to restart. That’s Ragtime wearing basic black

Yeah, yeah, shiny booms make me feel all artsy inside

The realities of the two coves, with an anchorage and moorings and limited space ashore, dictate that Long Point Race Week be run as an invitational. It can’t grow, so it’s not threatened by some day having sponsorship and a big tent so crowded you can’t push your way through it. Some things are better that way. I was serious when I said that the Saturday race is short by design.

Bragging rights are involved.

Not always on the racecourse.

Dang. Time to put the boat away. It’s a Dave Kruger/Robbie Dal stack . . .

And do we know how to have fun?

FINN GOLD CUP, DAY TWO

The report from the class:

Thomas Le Breton (FRA) takes the lead at the Finn Gold Cup in San Francisco after two third places on Tuesday. Zach Railey (USA) stays in second place while the day belonged to third overall Ed Wright (GBR) after dominating and winning both races.

Full story: HERE.

Here is John Bertrand in coaching mode, with Gloria Lawrence (aka Luke’s mom) filming a start of the junior worlds . . .

Photo KL

So we begin.

I’m curious about your top picks for a 96-boat fleet in the 2010 Gold Cup, but first, what makes a winner in the Finn class today?

What I’ve learned over the last year, in the Laser and Finn both, is that world championships are being won downwind. You cannot be slow off the breeze. The Berkeley Circle is a well-known track. For this regatta you’re anticipating big wind and big waves, and I don’t expect any surprises on where you need to go. You need to start well, and the top guys are going to pop out. Upwind, they’ll all be competitive, and then it opens up going downwind.

And just what is it that “opens up?”

I used to finesse my way downwind, but with the new unlimited-pumping rule [in winds above 12 knots], it’s all power-based. It’s about technique, and it’s about how strong you are, and how hard you can rock and how long you can keep it up. These guys are standing up downwind. They’ll heel the boat to windward and go by the lee, then stand on the leeward side and pump, then lean on the weather side again. You can’t physically pump the whole leg, so the guys who pump longer do better. I’ve never seen Ben Ainslie sail [the triple Olympic gold and silver medalist is not entered in the 2010 Gold Cup], but my understanding is that he can do that and not lose his technique. He must have taken it to the next level.

So who are your picks for the Gold Cup?

Ed Wright is a powerful sailor. He’s due. He came out here and won the North Americans, but there are a number of other players. Rafa [Rafael Trujillo of Madrid, Spain, ESP 100] is physically the biggest. He should be competitive.

And Trujillo is the leader after day one . . .

Rafa on Day One


Anybody else?

Ivan from Croatia [Ivan Kljakovic Gaspic, CRO 524] is another. I’ve been impressed by how well he sails; he makes very few mistakes. And Zach Railey [USA 4] has it all. Upwind speed, power, and he’s very fast downwind. I’ve seen him pass tons of boats.

I confess, honorable reader, yr humble servant neglected to ask about the defending Gold Cup champion from Denmark, Jonas Hoegh-Christense. Instead we moved on to – John, what was it like, as a back-to-back Laser world champion, to transfer to the Finn?

The Finn is a very physical boat. It puts different stresses on the body. Once I got over that shock, it was in some ways easy because we were introducing Laser techniques to a class where they weren’t in use yet. The other John Bertrand, the Australian one, along with Peter Barrett and some other North Sails guys, got together with the Harken brothers and made the Vanguard Finn, which was a huge leap forward. It was so nice coming to a new thing, not saddled with a need to solve equipment issues. And it took a long time for the Europeans to catch on. They still had wood decks and the like. I don’t know if that was pride, or what, but it wasn’t until about 1984 that everybody switched over.

For your masters sailing, you’ve chosen the Laser.

The Laser is a more enjoyable boat. The Finn is hard work. It’s a job. The last time I actually set foot in a Finn was the final race of the 1984 Olympics. I viewed it as a kind of torture rack.

It was in the Finn class that Paul Elvstrom introduced the concept of the sailor as athlete.

Frankly, that’s the reason I got into the Finn. I’m not built for it, but I was able to wear water jackets and bring my weight up by 44 pounds. I could make the weight I needed. But I always assumed that the class builds mental toughness, and it’s tactically good. On technique and equipment you need to be really good, so it addressed all the things I wanted to accomplish. And the Finn has a macho caché, even more so now. I have no illusions that I could be competitive in a Finn today. A good friend of mine who’s won the masters worlds twice dropped out of the class when they disallowed weight jackets, and he’s bigger than I am.

How does Olympic status affect the class?

You could flip that and ask, What would the Olympics be without the Finn? To me, Olympic sailing is the Finn. It embodies everything Olympian. It’s our marathon, our triathlon. Olympic competition is about the effort that goes into it. The athleticism, the competitiveness, the nationalism. The Finn is even more fitting with the class so vital and thriving and the youth side growing.

In your youth you had a powerful, longterm relationship with your coach, Bill Monte. How does that inform your work as a coach now?

It’s huge. Everything I learned I’m trying to pass on. First and foremost it’s about trust, and what I try to impart—with Luke, with the Olympians [including Anna Tunnicliffe] that I coached for 2008, was confidence. The belief that you can succeed. The next step is to give them some ways to succeed; set them on a path. Coming full circle, Bill Monte mapped out my route; I just executed the plan. We would meet once a year for eight hours and map out the whole year to come. We’d determine which regattas I was going to, and there would be a different set of objectives for each. Sometimes it had to do with results. At other times it was not about results, it was about performance, getting good starts, nailing the tactics, something.

Congratulations are in order, too. I figure you share some part of Luke Lawrence’s win in the Silver Cup, the junior Finn worlds. That’s one somebody who will never forget what he was doing on his twentieth birthday, as in placing third in the final race, which is exactly what he had to do to take the title. So what was involved in the next step, taking our no-longer-quite-a-teenager from the 15-boat junior fleet to the 96-boat 2010 Gold Cup fleet?

Luke is actually very capable in large fleets, and a small fleet is sometimes harder. His goal was the Silver Cup, and he accomplished that. After that comes the meeting to set objectives for each race of the Gold Cup. We can always adjust if we need to, but it’s more about performance than scoring. We’re trying to build a foundation. You have to go through the whole alphabet before you can spell. I’m sure his mast/sail combination is not what it ought to be, but it’s good enough. [Hear a three-minute audio of Bertrand on coaching here] Luke has only been in the Finn since January, so at a technical level he still needs to learn how to sail the boat. It can be exciting to think about his potential, because he wasn’t the fastest out there in the Silver Cup.

In September you’re off to the Laser masters worlds in the UK. What’s your mindset on that kind of competition? It can’t be the same as chasing an Olympic medal.

I’m a little anxious about going to the worlds and not being where I want to be—I would have liked more practice, instead I’ve been coaching—but maybe that’s what masters sailing is all about. It’s a great scene. It was one of my fears, having been so competitive as a youth, with such high expectations, that getting back into the Laser I’d feel like a failure, but it’s not like that. I’m probably as fit as when I was younger, just not as flexible. Laser sailors today are more physical, and they’re faster. I’m kind of at the same level as when I was a youth, but the standard has moved up, in masters sailing too, so the challenge is still there.

So you wouldn’t mind winning, but that’s not the reason to go.

Correct. Otherwise I would have approached it a lot differently. Next year may be another story.

The St. Francis Yacht Club is running the 2010 Gold Cup for the Finn Class. Racing will be in the East Bay, with shoreside staging out of Marina Bay, Richmond, so that weary sailors are spared a five mile beat back to the St. Francis docks. The competition runs through Saturday. Feel the burn.

Today we undertake a study of the habits of man. In particular, we ask why two of the most popular sailing events in Northern California are totally whack. Or, to rephrase that, why should two totally whack sailing events rank at the top of anybody’s local calendar?

You could ask, why did Cadillacs have tailfins?

Or you could ask, why did those great tailfins go away?

Every winter, when average winds are at their wimpiest and average tides are at their screamingest, San Francisco Bay boats with lids turn out by the hundreds for the what-else-could-you-possibly-call-it-but Three Bridge Fiasco. Our biggest regatta of the year. Round three marks in any direction in any order and roll the dice on the puffs. And year after year the best sailors finish at the top. Don’t you just hate it when that happens?

On the flip side of the calendar, every August there is the Ronstan Bridge to Bridge, a jam-up of windsurfers, kiteboarders, and 18-foot skiffs. A natural mix, actually. In each of these groups, there is no one who would rather be sailing slow. And as Howie Hamlin says, “I bet, in about a third of the B2B races, whoever won, we’ve had a windsurfer, a kiter, and a skiff in the top three. The best of each. Talk about finding the limits of sailing.”

Talk about limits. With a breeze in the high twenties, Hamlin this year—he’s a 505 world champion, the first unAussie to win the 18-foot skiff championship, and until Wednesday the defending champion here—went down in the Strait, without ever making it under the Golden Gate Bridge and into the bay. Four of thirteen skiffs finished (31 percent), twelve of thirteen Formula board sailors (92 percent; btw you rock, Marion Lepert), and seventeen of twenty-nine kites (57 percent). The winners were the Aussie skiff team of Michael Coxon, Aaron Links, and Trevor Barnabas, maintaining their lead in the International Skiff Championship that wraps up today.

Kiwi skiff skipper Graham Catley suffered a severely lacerated leg in a crash in the early seconds of the race, outside the Gate, and local skiff sailor Chad Freitas came home hurting with ribs that possibly are cracked. That from a crash of his own. The front of the fleet was away and gone, but the waters behind were so littered with victims that St. Francis Yacht Club race manager John Craig blew off abandonment signals for the struggling stagglers.

At the bottom of the course, approaching the Bay Bridge, the leading skiffs, kites, and windsurfers were all in contention, but in a repeat of 2009, that’s where the wind faded and kites began to drift out of the sky. Only Chip Wasson (local legend, international class) broke the top five, placing fourth to protect the honor of the kites. Windsurfing stalwart Steve Silvester was top boardsailor at sixth.

Past yon point, the next land is Hawaii, Japan if you miss that. Yes, the kiteboarder, the windsurfer, and the skiff are racing level. Oops, an unlevel horizon. They should hold that sucker still.

RONSTAN BRIDGE TO BRIDGE: Contestants rally-up in the Golden Gate Strait, just west of the bridge, and then make one big bull run for a finish line at the Oakland Bay Bridge, 7.5 miles downwind and g’bless the faint of heart because this is not for the faint of heart. A two-day heatwave broke in the afternoon and the fog rolled in and the breeze climbed into the twenties. Here is the post-start sequence as Graham Catley and crew close-up on a windsurfer that (I’m sorry) I can’t identify . . .

Catley and crew hail from the Auckland Sailing Club, which would seem a long way from Sydney Harbour and the origin of the 18-foot skiffs, except that here they are even farther from home, in their antipodes. Average surface-water temperature at the Golden Gate, 56 degrees . . .

Oops, I do fear the blue-decked boat in the background is our Howie Hamlin, former defending champion . . .

With his leg injuries, Catley will be sidelined from today’s sailing, if there is any . . .

Others, meanwhile, were off to the bay . . .

The fog has a beauty of its own, once you’ve had a break (see previous post).

But, much as in last year’s race, the kites stepped out, then stepped into holes near the finish line. I haven’t studied the race history closely, to know if this is a problem-type problem, but it is certain that in the last two years you could have devised a fairer race course with a different finish line, That is, by booting the bridge to bridge concept. And the bath. And the baby. Oh, forget it.

Back when kites first entered this event, it was all but impossible for them to get back upwind. They still can’t match windsurfers upwind, or not very often, but the developments have been tremendous. And on Wednesday, getting downwind the last few hundred meters was the big deal. You either had a puff or you didn’t. That’s Treasure Island in the background, now transferred from the Navy to the City but not in play to host America’s Cup teams . . .

By the time you make the finish, you’ve reached a bit of sunshine, and then it’s time to turn around and beat home . . .

Now, I said we would pose the question, and we did: Why would two totally whack sailing events rank at the top of anybody’s local calendar?

But if you don’t understand, I can’t possibly explain.

Naturally, they came here for the big breeze, and naturally, Northern California served up a heat wave, so for the first two days, we didn’t see the big breeze. Hot weather has been so rare in 2010 that it’s made people rather giddy to see the sun. For example, this Presidio gardener who was clowning for her cohorts . . .

Photographs by Kimball Livingston

Waiting for the breeze is about conserving energy. I have to repeat this shot of John Winning’s boat, painted to look like plank on frame . . .

If only for the contrast to the same boat, all on . . .

Like several other folks around here, I got a ride in Howie Hamlin’s flying motorcycle (with the left door removed for photography, that’s how it feels) to check out the skiff races and whatever else caught my eye. The ship is an R44 II made by Robinson. Looks like this, as shot by Erik Simonson . . .

We lifted out of North Field, Oakland over the Oakland Shipping Channel and the former Naval base . . .

Being local, I had to check out the new Bay Bridge in progress . . .

And the worksite . . .

With parts that are fetching in the abstract . . .

At Crissy Field beach, the fleet was out and the sun crowd was in . . .

And soon the race was on . . .

Almost never has a high pressure system been powerful enough to shut down the Venturi of the Golden Gate. In a heat wave on San Francisco Bay, you’re likely to have the race delayed, but you’re not likely to get skunked . . .

Pure vanity—a self portrait . . .

Between races we checked out Andrey Melnichenko’s 394-foot “A” that’s been hanging off Sausalito. I don’t see an anchor rode, so I assume she is being held on station the new way, with a combination of gps and power corrections . . .

Not being part of the Monaco-St. Barth megayacht circuit, San Francisco Bay does not have many visitors on this scale . . .

While we’re not on the subject, you have four more days to buy a raffle ticket to support the Project Kaisei research into Pacific Ocean plastic removal. The ratios are good, the tickets are $50 apiece, and the prize is a week on a 50-footer in Polynesia, flights paid for, with $2,500 spending money. It’s a good cause and a good prize. Check it out at Dream Sail Raffle.

Later, we saw the A’s tender headed for the docks of the St. Francis Yacht Club, which is running the skiff races. Our gossipy tidbit of the day, Melnichenko took a skiff ride himself a few days ago.

It was a rare day on San Francisco Bay. Even as the breeze picked up to 12 knots, there was none of the biting chill that locals know as daily reality. But there is one thing we know about a heat wave in San Francisco. It won’t last any longer than a passing wake . . .

Now it’s Wednesday, getting on, and the Ronstan Bridge to Bridge Race is set for 1730. Skiffs, windsurfers, and kiteboarders all in one big bull run from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Bay Bridge. I’ve added another layer and I’m wishing for one more. The breeze is up, the waves are up, the whitecaps are up, and it’s looking perfect for the Bridge to Bridge.

By the way, no matter what you’ve read, my spies at City Hall tell me that dropping the CEQA exemption plan was anything but a capitulation. The BMW Oracle team will be back in San Francisco next week, and we’re still talking AC-N-SF.

In the Inbox, from David Lewis, is a copy of a letter sent Tuesday by one of my favorite environmental organizations—Save the Bay—to San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsom.

The letter lays out a willingness, or better yet it says “We are enthusiastic” about building a partnership between environmental groups and the city of San Francisco, all to the end of creating an environment in which BMW Oracle Racing can commit with confidence to declaring San Francisco Bay the venue for a match in 2014. In formal terms, of course, Golden Gate Yacht Club holds the America’s Cup, but I don’t think that Commodore Marcus Young needs any convincing at all.

David Lewis is the Executive Director of Save The Bay, and the letter bears his signature.

Maybe, just maybe, this way forward will work. The Mayor’s office now says that it is abandoning an earlier plan to fast-track an infrastructure buildout by securing an exemption from the California Environmental Quality Act. That will keep Gavin Newsom’s pro-environmental credentials intact as he campaigns to trade his Mayor’s seat for the Lieutenant Governor’s seat, come November.

The plan (hope, whatever) is to enlist all the major players in the environmental arena. Several more already are aboard. The concern (mine) is how to rule out every possibility of intervention from what, offshore, we would call a rogue wave.

The Golden Gate Yacht Club , on the shoreline bordering the race course of an America’s Cup in San Francisco Bay.

From the mayor’s office also comes word that the resolution supported in the California state legislature by reps Yee/Leno/Ammiano/Ma passed out of the Senate Monday evening on a 33-0 vote. The Assembly will vote before the week is out. And the bill that they are supporting was drafted by Ed Worley, who sent us a comment on yesterday’s post regarding State Senate Resolution SCR124. The subtext? Ed Worley crewed for Rod Davis on Newport Harbor Yacht Club’s Eagle Challenge for America’s Cup in Australia in 1987.

Here is the letter from David Lewis to Mayor Gavin Newsom::

As you know, Save The Bay is the oldest and largest organization working to protect and restore San Francisco Bay for people and wildlife. We are enthusiastic about the prospect that San Francisco may be selected to host the 34th America’s Cup. The world’s premier sailing race represents a special opportunity to showcase San Francisco Bay to the world, and create lasting benefits for public access to the Bay and its shoreline.

David Lewis

LUKE LAWRENCE WINS FINN JUNIOR WORLDS

At the finish line of the Finn class Junior World Championship (the Silver Cup) I could hear the new champ, Luke Lawrence, telling his coach, past Finn Gold Cup winner John Bertrand, “I can’t believe this is happening!”

My edited version of the Finn class press release goes like this:

On his 20th birthday, Miami sailor Luke Lawrence won the 2010 Finn Junior World title. What better present!

“Winning this event was my main goal this year,” Lawrence said. “I have trained hard since spring with my coach, John Bertrand. My learning curve has been great, but it has been stressing at times. I am happy because I was able today to go out there and do the job.”

The day started under a high pressure system with uncharacteristic sun and wind from the land and an AP flag flying to postpone racing until the westerly seabreeze filled.

With the breeze coming on, warm and gentle by community standards, racing started at 1500 after one general recall. What followed was a nerve raclking race with light winds and lead changes throughout. Caleb Paine was first to the top mark, while Luke Lawrence rounded in 11th place. The run against the current provided the biggest opportunities to gain or lose. While the top five sailed the run down the middle of the course, Oliver Tweddell (AUS), Egor Terpigorev (RUS) and Luke Lawrence (USA) went close to the shore for current relief in the shallows. It worked.

Egor Terpigorev (RUS) won the last race, which counted for double points, with Oliver Tweddell (AUS) second and Luke Lawrence third, good enough to take the title, three points ahead of European Junior champion Ioannis Mitakis (GRE) and Oliver Twedelle (AUS).

Most Junior sailors will stay in San Francisco to race the Finn Gold Cup scheduled next week. “My objective is to make the top 30,” says Lawrence. “That’s where I finished in the Finn Europeans last May. But for now I will take a break and sail an 18 ft skiff.”

SPEAKING OF WHICH

When the heat wave/land breeze comes on, and you have to wait for the Golden Gate wind slot/ sea breeze to win, you might as well kick back on the bow of a super-lightweight composite skiff, painted to look like plank construction

It’s nothing like America’s Cup racing. But it’s the hottest thing on the bay, right now. Literally. And even so, every day, the breeze comes eventually.

Aussie Herman Winning is leading the skiffs going into today. The series wraps up tomorrow, but today the highlight is the Ronstan Bridge to Bridge, 7+ miles from the Golden Gate to the Bay Bridge, with skiffs, kiteboards, and windsurfers all mixed together.

Howie Hamlin, the first American to ever win the 18-foot skiff class championship, says, “I don’t know how many times we’ve had the top three finishers show up as one of each. I bet it’s a third of the time that we’ve had a skiff, a kite, and a windsurfer all in the top three—the best of each group.”

The race is a favorite local wacko tradition. First gun is at 1730 at the Nun buoy west of the South Tower of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Could a Chevron refinery in Richmond, California consign the America’s Cup match to Spain?

Is it possible for everybody to pull in one direction, and go nowhere?

18ft skiffs are racing through Thursday in the Alcatraz Channel. Substitute 72-footers and you have something of the look of an America’s Cup on San Francisco Bay. Photo by Rich Roberts

These are important questions. Less important—Did a former weightlifter/actor show Russell Coutts his Conan the Barbarian sword when the CEO of BMW Oracle Racing called at 1303 10th Street, Sacramento, following what my spies tell me was a longish session in Room 200, City Hall, San Francisco?

What’s been playing out in the last week and a half since the BOR team came to town and asked the city of San Francisco to hurry up and produce a plan and a proposal and certainty by September 30 –yes, Virginia, and all your little friends, Larry Ellison really does want to schedule an America’s Cup match for San Francisco Bay, 2014—but, as I was saying, what’s been playing out is not quite Kafkaesque, and yet it does bring into focus the reasons why you’re never a fool to be pessimistic about getting things done in San Francisco.

Ultimately, however, this is about defending America’s Cup in America.

That’s why I still believe it will happen. The teams will be based at Pier 50, directly down-camera from every Giants game, and how cool is that?

We’re not talking about paving a salt marsh (hey there, Cargill), we’re talking about rehabbing concrete piers that are crumbling into the bay. Kyri McClellan, project manager for Mayor Gavin Newsom’s office of economic and workforce development, calls it “a once in a lifetime opportunity to transform those piers back to public use.”

If environmental groups and neighborhood NIMBYs prevent that, and cost the region the $1.4 billion of revenue and 9,000 jobs estimated to come with an America’s Cup, they’ll have a lot to answer for. The sport of sailboat racing will lose. But the environmental groups too say they want to see the America’s Cup sailed on San Francisco Bay. Everybody says they want to pull in one direction; the issue is process. Then Pandora peered into the box and . . .

There’s big money on offer in Italy. There’s infrastructure in place in Spain (where the sailors get a tailored tax break that they really, really like). There’s noise coming out of France and Portugal. And here we are in a cash-strapped city in a cash-strapped state, starved for the benefits that a Cup would bring, poised to achieve failure while all parties agree on the goal. And that would, truly, be Kafkaesque.

So let’s not go there.

Reliable breeze, vistas, little cable cars climbing halfway to the stars, great backgrounds for 18ft skiff racing, or an America’s Cup match. Photo by Rich Roberts

The easy thing would be for Larry Ellison’s team to take the money and race in Europe. Not because he needs the money, but because the Europeans will simply make things happen. He’s not taking the easy route for any number of reasons. He lives here. He learned to sail here. He sees that cameras love San Francisco and San Francisco Bay. This is the place for a transformative America’s Cup match. And it would not be pleasant for an American to announce that he is defending America’s Cup, elsewhere.

TIME TO FORM A CIRCLE, AND ALL HOLD HANDS

BOR needs a commitment from the city before it too can commit. The team has asked to see a proposal by September 30, after first running December 30 as the storyline for a venue announcement. They are beset by anxious would-be challengers who are tugging at them from all sides, and everyone wants to move the ball. The hurry-up message, however, prompted a hurry-up plan from the mayor’s office that drew all the environmental/neighborhood issues out of the woodwork and spilled them onto the floor.

That plan suggested delivering Certainty quickly by going to the California State legislature—which closes its session on August 30—to gain an exemption to the California Environmental Quality Act, aka CEQA. Pronounced seequa. This was done for the Los Angeles Olympics in 1984, and it would cut through much, not all, of the red tape and environmental review that, otherwise, spell delay. But the proposal proved a call to arms for environmental organizations. They say they support an America’s Cup on San Francisco Bay, but not an exemption to CEQA. To them, CEQA is the holy grail.

On Friday, August 20, Kyri McClellan appeared on KQED Radio in the first Forum hour as part of a panel that included the Sierra Club’s Michael Endicott, who opposes a CEQA exemption. The topic kept coming up. That’s what’s generating most of the noise. But it’s not the only game in town. In a story in the San Francisco Chronicle, John Coté quotes Michael Cohen, head (for another six weeks) of the mayor’s economic development office: “We are pursuing a number of parallel courses.”

A CEQA exemption may or may not be where we’re headed, but the hurry up message and the CEQA flare-up have had the power to “concentrate the mind wonderfully,” so to speak. A little power play here, a counter power play there, and pretty soon you define the outlines of the situation.

Continuing with CEQA for a moment: If the city proceeds to seek an exemption, it could be a hard sell. For starters, it’s a last minute deal. And, per Save the Bay executive director David Lewis, “Even if every environmental group in town agreed, I don’t think it would happen. The exemption for the stadium has poisoned the atmosphere.”

Stadium?

Toward the close of the 2009 legislative session, California legislators hastily granted an exemption so that Los Angeles could rush to secure a bid for a new NFL team and then build a stadium in the City of Industry. So far, no team and no stadium.

“Plus,” says Lewis, “Chevron’s Richmond [California] refinery is in Sacramento trying to get an environmental exemption. That creates its own atmosphere, and for legislators outside the Bay Area, the America’s Cup is not a priority. A week ago, when I first heard that the mayor’s office was thinking about this, my own thought was, let’s find another way to give the team confidence. I’m optimistic this can be done, but my optimism doesn’t matter in the context of a compressed period of time.

DOWN CAMERA FROM AT&T PARK

“In the past,” Lewis said, “it’s been possible to say what is being exempted. In this case, they tell us they need to build finger piers and a breakwater, but they haven’t said how big those need to be.”

Which depends in part on the decision to go mono or multi, doesn’t it? And that decision also turns on the no-later-than date of September 30.

Lewis again: “We suggest creating a positive statement that people support an America’s Cup on San Francisco Bay, and we are willing to work together.”

But that would leave it a bit sporty for the Defender, with the chance that some odd impediment might pop up. Here is where we are testing the creativity of Michael Cohen and testing the creativity of the environmental groups, and g’bless.

I seem to remember tremendous difficulty surrounding the building of a new baseball park, now acknowledged as a gem.

“The devil is in the details,” says Tina Andolina, legislative director of the Planning and Conservation League, headquartered in the capital city and also opposing an exemption. “The exemption is the easiest thing in their eyes [the office of the mayor], but the legislators are once bitten, twice shy. What’s needed is certainty that construction can proceed in a timely manner. I’m rooting for California to host the America’s Cup. It’s a point of optimism that the City of San Francisco reached out to environmental groups to ask what we need, and it’s my understanding that the mayor’s people have not yet made a decision to go forward with requesting the CEQA exemption. People who care about conservation care about CEQA, and when they feel that it’s under threat, it drives them nuts—think Richmond Refinery—because every exemption chips away at the law.”

And here we are, August 2010, with Mayor Gavin Newsom’s office estimating a huge positive impact for the regional economy and everybody agreeing that America’s Cup 34, for the good of all, ought to be sailed on San Francisco Bay in 2014, and for all that we’re wringing our hands in fear that we can’t get there from here.

Fear, perhaps, is useful.

Racing toward Alcatraz in the Junior World Championship of the Olympic Finn. It was in this class that Russell Coutts—who has won more America’s Cup races than anyone else—won his Olympic Gold Medal. Junior Championship racing continues through Tuesday, followed by the Finn Gold Cup starting Thursday

SO DEFINE “CERTAINTY”

Larry Ellison built a software empire by being smart, and by being adventurous. He won the America’s Cup last February in what we might call a hostile takeover. As it began, there was absolutely no guarantee of success. The man is not risk averse, but in declaring a venue for America’s Cup 34, he is betting for all the players, not just for himself.

This is a historic moment for the America’s Cup. The Defenders propose to create a new competitive/media regime that, if successful, will become a new tradition with so much force behind it that the next winner will simply have to carry it forward, even though it is not enshrined in the Deed of Gift.

It’s time, past time, for that.

But the heart of the America’s Cup tradition is the premise that the winner wins the venue. It was an upstart Yankee schooner, remember, that won a big, silver trophy in 1851. She raced around the Isle of Wight, and our upstart schooner was sailing against the entire fleet of the Royal Yacht Squadron at a time when Britain was the empire of might. And why did Britain have an empire? Because Britannia ruled the waves. Plenty of folks back home in the former colonies had expected the Yankee schooner to suffer a humiliating defeat. Instead, the English lion was bearded in his own den.

And the owners of the Yankee schooner had the audacity to name their boat—

America.

It took 132 years for a team from another country to take away America’s Cup.

132 years.

When a boat named Australia II finally became the first foreign winner, in 1983, there were plenty of Australians saying, “It’s Australia’s Cup now.” But that was just talk. The name did not change, because the prize itself is nothing unless it is the America’s Cup, the oldest trophy in sports. The Aussies did, however, take an unofficial national holiday.

An American team carrying the colors of an American club simply has to defend America’s Cup in America.

The last time I checked, the Golden Gate Yacht Club fit that description.

A YEAR FROM NOW

If rumor holds true that BOR hopes to stage a pre-event on San Francisco Bay along about a year from now, we know they’ll be doing it without finished infrastructure at Piers 30/32 and 50, but the sooner we start, the better. On KQED’s Forum, McClellan pointed out that Piers 30/32 went through a full environmental review early in this decade when they were being considered as a cruise ship terminal.

Endicott, speaking for the Sierra Club and arguing that seeking a CEQA exemption is “the wrong tack,” countered: “This is a very different project from a cruise terminal. It is a local land use decision, and it should have the voice of local people.”

McClellan: “The proposed use is much less intensive than a cruise ship terminal.”

Endicott: “There are leases involved. This has ramifications for the next 75 years.”

McClellan: “We have never suggested that any future development on the waterfront would be exempted from CEQA. This remains a fluid situation, and we remain committed to working with the Sierra Club.”

NOTE: The above is extremely edited in an attempt to expose the core of the conversation and does not at all reflect how it felt or sounded at the time. I’m taking a risk, but I think I got it right. This might also prove an opportune moment to repeat myself: A little power play here, a counter power play there, and pretty soon you define the outlines of the situation.

The city, McClellan said, “is bringing every resource to bear. When was the last time the board of supervisors had an 11-0 vote?” [Referring to an 11-0 vote on a resolution in support of AC-N-SF.]

“In September,” McClellan said, “we need to bring a full program before the board. If we were allowed to enter into binding agreements, that would provide certainty. Without that, the supervisors can only make an endorsement. It’s a theme that came up in our last meeting with the team.”

So there is the welter, and your speculation is as good as mine as to which of Michael Cohen’s “parallel courses” might work out, or will the team allow some wiggle room on that September 30 date, and will the creativity of the environmental groups measure up to their professed enthusiasm.

“I’ve been a sailor on San Francisco Bay since 1979,” Endicott said. “It would be a great thing to have the America’s Cup here.”

Footnote to the post that won’t end: Michael Cohen, director of the mayor’s Office of Economic and Workforce Development, resigned on Friday, one day after completing a deal to transfer Treasure Island from the US Navy to the city of San Francisco. Cohen has had the lead in the city’s negotiations for an America’s Cup deal, and his known talents were one of the factors in favor of success. He has said that he will stay in the saddle until the end of September.

Still here? Go outside and play. Oh yeah, Conan’s sword . . .

YEEEHAAW!

Here is Brazil’s reigning Finn Junior World Champion, Jorge Zarif, port-tacking the fleet in Thursday’s practice race for the 2010 championship . . .

I could hear him across the water—YEEHAAW—as the shutter clicked.

Nobody bothered to finish the practice race, but the deal goes serious today, Friday, with two races on San Francisco Bay. This is also the venue for the Finn Gold Cup that kicks off next week.

It was fascinating to observe John Bertrand in his role of coaching American Luke Lawrence. I remember Bertrand winning the Laser Slalom at (I think) age 16 on these waters and then going on to define the Laser Generation. That was the 1970s, and San Francisco Bay had 400 percent more Lasers per capita than any other sailing capital (thanks, Don), The young man would go on to win multiple Laser world titles and then become the second American to win the Finn Gold Cup, after Henry Sprague.

An Olympic silver medal was also involved, but right now John Bertrand is pouring his all into Luke Lawrence, who took Jorge Zarif’s transom and then checked back, as you see in the photo below. The bay –one sixth of all that water goes out and in twice a day—was ebbing against the seabreeze. Dig the seastate, and this was a random wave, not the big one . . .

The Gold Cup will be huge. The Silver Cup, for juniors, has only 15 entries, and yet it has 10 countries represented, and four continents. More at finngoldcup.com. Another practice start—

Warrior’s Wish was returning from Hawaii to San Francisco Bay, a distance of 2,300 miles, when the keel sheared off, leaving the boat at risk of capsize, hour to hour and moment to moment.

I followed those last 800 miles on tenterhooks, along with a lot of other people, though our “tenterhooks” were nothing compared to life aboard. Ronnie and crewmate Ed McCoy spent their time in the cockpit, life raft and ditch bag at the ready. In a case of ill fortune, it was a rare good fortune that the seas left them a mild window for their unstable craft, all the way to the coast.

Ronnie was headed to Richmond, in the East Bay—a distance from the entrance to the bay—and his phone kept cutting out, so we never had a coherent conversation. He did say that, on the final approach, “The seas were on the beam, so it was difficult for the boat, but they were swells, not wind waves.”

I believe I understood that he had an escort of not one but four boats for the passage through the strait.

And there was a moment when he put the phone down because of a wake from commercial traffic, and then the phone went dead—not for the first time—but I was confident even then that all would be well with Warrior’s Wish. Before the race, Ronnie told me, when I asked what’s it like to go in two years from nonsailor-never-even-thought-about-it to, as he says, “working in the sailing sector; playing in the sailing sector, living in the sailing sector—

“I own less, and I make less than I ever have.

“And I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

I hope that’s still true. It’s been a ride and a half.

It’s not as though either of them has had a “night’s sleep” since, living in the cockpit with life raft and ditch bag at the ready.

The pair are delivering the boat back to the mainland from Hawaii following Simpson’s Singlehanded Transpac race and, come Wednesday morning, I suspect they will have no trouble finding guardian angels eager to escort them through the hazards of the Golden Gate Strait, per Ronnie’s note below:

“One more night down and hopefully only two more nights to go. The nights freak me out a bit more than the days. Things are still more or less OK aboard Warrior’s Wish. We’ve had to bleed the motor several times. We checked all of our work regarding fuel filter swap, previous bleeding, etc. Everything seems tight, but due to constant vibration (or something) it seems there is a very small air leak. Motor sounds very starved and loses power for a few minutes. Definitely seems like a fuel issue. The starvation/power loss either works itself out naturally in five minutes, as it did once yesterday, or requires bleeding, which we’ve done three times in the past two days. The motor generally stays running throughout the entire ordeal. She’s purring right along right now and we’re making 5.5 knots with the jib up. Definitely looking forward to getting back to San Francisco. I think we both want showers, Thai curry chicken, and beer.

“Our ETA is becoming more defined. Looking at Wednesday morning’s flood tide. Slack is at 0349; max flood is 0706, and slack is 1011. Fortunately, the ebb tide after that is a mild one, so we have some leeway (no pun intended). We would like to have a boat on the scene to meet us and escort us in if that is possible. With the gnarly currents at the Golden Gate, if the motor craps out, we’re done. Either into the South Tower or a lee shore. Too much leeward drift with no keel. I think we can do it ourselves; I just want a powerboat as backup in case we need a tow. Please contact RJ (silver911r@gmail.com) if you know of someone who can help with this. I would prefer to not have Coast Guard on the scene as I don’t feel it’s an emergency.”

This is Warrior’s Wish doing what it could do when it still had a keel. If you are new to the Ronnie Simpson story, understand that he has had more drama in his young life than most people experience in a long life. Enlisted in the Marines at 18, blown up in a firefight outside Fallujah at 19, medically retired at 20, off to sail around the world, lost his boat at sea, finished the circumnavigation on a bicycle and entered the 2010 Singlehanded Transpac to call attention to the work of Hope for the Warriors, a nonprofit aimed at getting wounded veterans back into the stream of life.

I love this guy, but he does seem like a bit of a lightning rod . . .