Mighty Mary 6e45s

MIGHTY MARY

A NOVEL BY TONY SCARINGE

Based on actual events

Dedicated to my wife Georgia, thank you for your encouragement and loving .

Copyright © 2012 Anthony Scaringe All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Kindle Direct Publishing, a division of Amazon Inc. Seattle, Washington. ISBN-13: 9780578470641 ISBN-13: 9780578523323(e-book)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and dialogue have been created by the author. Although this book is based on actual events, similarities to actual persons, places and events are incidental.

MIGHTY MARY

CONTENTS

Mighty Mary: Prologue

Chapter 1: Romancing the Cup

Chapter 2: Idea to Reality

Chapter 3: The Skipper

Chapter 4: How to Build a Women’s Team

Chapter 5: Women Vs. The Southern Ocean

Chapter 6: Back On Track

Chapter 7: Sailing the Heineken

Chapter 8: Sailing Down Broadway

Chapter 9: Return to Punta Del Este

Chapter 10: Back in the States

Chapter 11: Making the Team

Chapter 12: Whitbread the Final Leg

Chapter 13: The Team

Chapter 14: Mighty Mary

Chapter 15: Win Or Go Home

Chapter 16: The Finals

Epilogue

Bibliography

About the Author

MIGHTY MARY

Prologue

In 1850, England issued a challenge for any nation to try to overtake her dominance of the seas in a yacht race competition. This led the United States of America and the newly formed New York Yacht Club to commission the construction of the schooner America. In 1851, the 90 foot schooner crossed the Atlantic Ocean in record time to meet 15 British challengers in a yacht race. The rest as they say is history. The America beat all competitors easily and for the next 132 years the U.S. held the trophy: the America’s Cup. To this day it is the longest winning streak in sports history. So, it was no wonder that in 1983 the sport, once minded only by the world’s rich and famous, picked up a new audience. That was the year Australia handed the U.S. its first defeat in Cup racing history. I guess it’s a big deal, even in a sport few people care about, to lose for the first time in 132 years. It was reasonable then to expect interest to develop when the U.S. wanted her cup back. Devon Cahill, skipper of the speedy yacht, Stars & Bars, was the logical choice to regain the Cup as he was the skipper onboard that lost it to the Australians. Nothing like a grudge match to spark some interest. He not only won back the Cup in 1987 but successfully defended it in 1988. Devon was a man’s man, the prince of chauvinists with an ego as big as the sea. He fit the yacht racer’s profile for this male dominated sport. He fell easily into his new role as an American hero and elevated the visibility of racing for the America’s Cup to new heights. It was Devon at first that caught my attention; however, a new character came on the scene who challenged the way things were done in the exclusive sport of Cup racing. Enter Dan Cook the man responsible for defeating Devon Cahill and the Stars & Bars in the 92 Cup trials. Cook the scientist, businessman, and non-sailor, went on to win the Cup in 1992 breaking all of the stereotypes for Cup racing success. It was the same Cook who was responsible for fielding the first ever all women’s team to compete for the America’s Cup. Interest was peaking again.

CHAPTER 1

ROMANCING THE CUP

West Palm Beach Florida Enersys Corporation Headquarters

It was 10am and already 85 degrees and humid as hell. But that was typical for south Florida in June. I pulled up to the guard station at the entrance to Enersys Corporation with plenty of time to spare for my meeting with Dan Cook, CEO and Chair of the company. My heart was beating fast as I wondered what the hell I was doing. Who was I to write a story about the first ever women’s team to compete for the male dominated America’s Cup? I had no real credentials. I had written a number of unpublished fiction stories and sci-fi. Well, in a lot of ways I was like the women’s team: light on experience, but full of desire and enthusiasm. Could this be enough? I would soon find out. Dan was not all that eager to give the appointment at first, but he agreed to speak with me on the phone when I told the gatekeeper it was regarding Mighty Mary. He wanted to know more about me and my interest in Mighty Mary. During the phone conversation, I explained that I was doing research on a story and needed his insights on the women’s team. He threw up a roadblock. “Dozens of articles have been written about the women’s team, not to mention that this event took place over 15 years ago. What’s your angle and why now?” “Well, Mr. Cook, I have been thinking about Mighty Mary and the women’s team for a long time. I think there is a story here to tell that has yet to be told. In my view they beat Stars & Bars in the trials and should have represented the U.S. in the ’95 Cup. And if it were not for the good ole boys network in place, they would have had a great chance to win the cup.”

I waited anxiously for Dan’s response which would determine whether he would agree to meet me in person. He didn’t speak but I swear I could hear his thoughts going over the events that led up to the final deciding race: Was there a story here I should have told a long time ago? Who is this guy? Then he spoke. “That prick Devon Cahill should have been disqualified. But he was bigger than the moment when in fact it should have been the women’s team that was bigger. I have some time tomorrow say around 11. Can you make it to my office in West Palm Beach?” “I’ll be there,” I confirmed quickly, not thinking if there would even be a flight out of Boston Regional Airport in Manchester, New Hampshire. But there was and here I am. The guard directed me to the visitor’s parking area at the main entrance to the building. I drove past several rows of employee parking noting an unusually high percentage of late model SUVs, Volvos, and a good number of Beamers. It looked like a great place to work. I parked in the front row across from the dark tinted glass main entrance. I let the engine idle for a moment as I fumbled through my brief case checking for my note pad, recorder, and tapes. I was stalling. As I stepped out of the car into the blazing heat and humidity, I patted down my jacket and proceeded into the reception area. “Hi, my name is Tony Serrano and I—” was all I got out before the receptionist interjected. “Yes, Mr. Serrano, you are meeting with Mr. Cook. Can you please sign in right here and I’ll let them know you are here.” “Thank you,” I said and turned to sit down. I noticed the walls were covered in art work. Looking closer it was really extraordinary art, not like the stuff you see in a hotel lobby or regular waiting areas. These were beautiful original oils that even I knew were worth something. Before I had a chance to sit, a rather stuffy older but well-dressed woman came over to me. “Hello, Mr. Serrano, I am Mrs. Kensington, Mr. Cook’s assistant.”

“How do you do?” I stammered through the formality. “Mr. Cook will see you now,” she said, at the stroke of 11:00. “Please follow me.” I followed her through a carded doorway into a long hallway decorated with more fine works of art. “Is that a ...” “Yes it is, please keep up,” she answered my half asked question. ‘A Picasso,’ I thought. ‘What am I doing here?’ Mrs. Kensington turned right in the middle of the corridor before taking another left into a small conference room. It was naturally lit through tall rectangular windows that faced out toward the ocean, which flowed along the east side of the building. “Beautiful,” I said out loud. “Yes, thank you,” she replied, somewhat routinely as though she was expecting the compliment. “Mr. Cook will be right with you. Please have a seat.” “Thank you.” I waited till she left the room before whispering, “I would have expected more furniture.” There was more art you could walk right up to without cumbersome furniture getting in the way. ‘It’s kind of like a gallery,’ I thought, as I walked about the room checking out the artists’ signatures. I didn’t recognize any of the artists but the paintings were exquisite. Masterfully done seascapes, yachts at sea, and other landscapes with an ocean/beach theme covered the walls. I knew Mr. Cook was a collector. I couldn’t imagine what his personal collection was like if this was just his office stuff. I sat down at a small conference table. There were only two chairs. I sat to the side leaving the head for Mr. Cook. I set out my pad, pens, and recorder and started jotting down a few notes when Mr. Cook walked in. He was tall but not over powering, and more casual than I expected from my Mrs. Kensington experience. I got kind of a warm and friendly feeling from his boyish grin, his long wavy blonde hair, and warm countenance. He extended his hand as I stood up to greet him.

“Hi, Dan Cook,” he grasped my hand firmly. “Hello, Mr. Cook, I’m Tony Serrano.” “Please call me Dan, even my kids call me Dan.” He interjected immediately and laughed. “Sure, thank you, Dan, and thank you again for seeing me.” “Well, I was a bit curious when you said you wanted to talk to me about Mighty Mary. It’s been what,15 years since Mighty Mary was news.” “Yes it has.” “Please have a seat,” he gestured as we both sat down. “Dan, do you mind if I record our conversation? I lose a lot of information because I can’t write fast enough.” “Sure as long as you don’t ask a lot of embarrassing questions,” he laughed. He could have been serious though as he was a colorful character for a billionaire. He has been married four times and had children with each woman; he also cared for some other children from previous marriages. It was like the United Nations around his house he once joked. He was also in some wellpublicized family feuds with his two brothers and one sister over the enormous family fortune left to him and his siblings. His father had been very big in Texas oil and other energy related businesses. Each sibling had their own ideas about how to run the business and how it should grow. At one point Dan was voted out of the business but he fought his way back in; he even forcing his mother to testify in a court battle with his siblings while she was still recovering from a stroke. I paused briefly to settle in on a starting point. I went through this in my mind a dozen times. But now sitting here face-to-face with Dan Cook, the mastermind and financial backer of the women’s team, I knew saying the right thing at the right time took on more importance than I ever imagined. I thought to start by saying I felt the women’s team was the victim of being the first to compete in the male dominated Cup.

Instead I said, “Dan, as I mentioned to you on the phone, I think there is a story here to be told that is long overdue. It’s about a man and his dreams and how they became reality. It’s about a man who goes from sailing his family yacht around Cape Cod to the man who helped design and build United America, winner of the 1992 America’s Cup. But mostly, it’s the story of a vision of an all women’s team and how they could have and should have beaten the highly regarded men’s team to represent America in the 95 Cup. It’s about the struggles women face when they are the first to do something only men had done before. In the case of the women’s team, they tore down male barriers, and challenged and ended male exclusivity of the Cup racing world. The women’s team was competing against more than just the sea and other boats. They were competing against the forces of discrimination, stereotyping, humiliation, and derision. This story needs to be told.” I looked directly at Dan as he gazed right through me. Then, after a brief pause, he said, “Excuse me a second,” as he pushed the intercom and said, “Jill, please clear my calendar for the afternoon and order us some lunch.” Dan stared out toward the sea. For a moment I am sure he was aboard United America with waves pounding and sea spray whipping his face. “I think we need to go back to June 1992 at my home here in West Palm Beach,” he said pensively. Dan’s mansion in West Palm Beach was an eclectic mix of down home southern comfort and a high-end big city art gallery. It was the first time Dan had opened his home to so many people all at once. Security issues were a concern for his hundred-million-dollar art collection, not to mention his wine cellar valued at two million and shrinking as the hundred or so guests milled about, wine in hand, studying the magnificent hangings and sculptures. It was the place to be if you were anybody in sailing circles or in West Palm Beach. Dan was celebrating his America’s Cup victory over the Italian team aboard Il Moro di Venezia. It was truly a beautiful and elegant racing yacht. You would expect nothing less of the Italians. “The Italians were a ionate and dedicated crew,” Dan mused. “Very good looking, too. It would have been a real distraction for my women’s team had they participated that year. What a Cup that was though. We were expected to win although I don’t know why given it was my first Cup and all. I guess beating Devon Cahill in the trials had a lot to do with it. We were fast and had a great

crew. But those Italians, they were always in it, pushing our boat to its limits. In the second heat they actually beat us in a race still talked about today. We were head-to-head three kilometers out with strong winds pushing us home. Paul Cameron was their English skipper. He decided to ease out the spinnaker boom, which had the effect of floating the spinnaker in front of the bow. Real gutsy, but it gave them just enough of an edge to win at the wire. All of a sudden the Italians looked capable of a real challenge. But in the end, we beat them 4-1, although, they certainly did not disgrace themselves. We never beat them by a lot.” "Il Moro", Dan reminisced, “What a work of art! The Italians were very gracious in defeat. A few of them even came to our victory celebration. Well, I’m getting a little off task here. Let’s get back to that night.” Dan leaned back in his chair to get comfortable as the story unfolded. He started a detailed of what happened. “There were guests everywhere drinking my wine like soda pop and touching the art. You don’t touch art. You wouldn’t in a gallery would you?” Dan asked parenthetically. I shook my head vigorously, thankful for the moment to be included in the conversation. But I really did feel his anguish, after all he was talking about his collection of Monet, Renoir, Degas, and Remington paintings that adorned the corridors and rooms where the guests gathered to talk of the mundane amongst the extraordinary. “Of course not,” he continued. “Anyway, no one really gave us a chance to beat Cahill in the trials but as I said when we did we became the team to beat in the Cup,” Dan said, with pride sweeping over his countenance. I didn’t bother to interrupt to ask how or why he became involved in the Cup quest. I chose to believe the lore about his rise to the top of the Cup world. The idea, as it is told, came to him whilst sailing around Cape Cod on the family yacht. This is what three degrees from MIT and a dream can get you. It was his belief that experience alone wasn’t the most important component of a Cup strategy. He said technology, teamwork, and attitude would trump experience as the most important elements for success. Yes, Devon Cahill could be beaten even by a women’s team, the right women’s team.

“But to get back to how this all got started, I’m sitting in my home theatre with some of my management team and crew having drinks with the Cup coverage playing in the background on the big screen. Kirby says to me…” “Kirby?” I ask. “Yes, Jim Wells, my director of sailing operations. We call him Kirby, don’t know why it’s always been Kirby. So, he asks me if we are going to defend the Cup.” Dan paused for the first time barring my interruptions. I don’t think he was stuck on where the story ought to go, he was the story. Dan is a “what’s next” kind of guy and having to defend the Cup was not even on his radar. He won it, now let’s move on. Not the thing to do in Cup racing. Everyone wants a shot at the winner. Beat the best to be the best and all that stuff. “Well, as soon as Kirby asked the question,” Dan continued, “everyone turned to me waiting for some kind of signal from me that we would kick ass if anyone wanted a piece of United America. But what came out of my mouth next surprised even me. I said, ‘Yes, we are going to defend the Cup but with an allwomen’s team.’ Stunned silence came over the room. I could not have expected what came next, alcohol fueled laughter. I ed in the laughter, after all it was a party. I shouldn’t have brought it up but I had been thinking about a women’s team for awhile. You know women’s teams were not a novel idea. There was a crew from Connecticut, I think, years ago that wanted to race in the Cup. The team came together pretty well but they couldn’t sustain the and sponsors they needed to compete. Also, I had gotten a call from a group out west interested in sending out a women’s team under the United America banner. They would have provided all the funding but wanted to use all my boats and equipment. I thought about it for a bit, but why would I want to do that for someone else? If I could get the right team together, we could do it for ourselves. I mean that would be historical. All I would need is a fast boat, a dedicated team with a winning attitude, and we could compete,” Dan concluded. “So, when Kirby put you on the spot for an answer, you pulled this idea for a women’s team from your subconscious and put it out there,” I said. “Yeah, pretty much, but after I said it the idea started to get my juices flowing again for another run at the Cup or more to the point, a piece of history.” “But, you were going to let the idea go after the reaction you got at the party,

right?” I asked, to confirm what I had read in an article somewhere. “Yes, I just had too much going on at the time and wasn’t even thinking about another run at the Cup until Kirby brought it up,” Dan answered. “OK, what happened next?” “Well, the next day Kirby called me at the office….”

CHAPTER 2

IDEA TO REALITY

Enersys Corporation West Palm Beach, FL

“Mr. Cook, Mr. Wells is on line two for you. He said you would know what it is about,” Dan’s receptionist informed him. “Thank you, Jill, I’ll take the call,” he answered, reaching for the phone. “Hi Kirby, what took you so long to call?” Dan joked. “Right, Hi, Dan. I know we all laughed about it but I think you were serious about the all women’s team,” he contended. “I have to it I became more interested in the idea after it came out of my mouth. Think about it, the first ever all women’s team to compete in the America’s Cup. We have the boats, we have all of the equipment, and we can raise the money. All we need is a crew, and I believe there are enough female sailors out there that would give their left tit to race in the cup,” Dan quipped. “What about experience, Dan? Are there enough good sailors with the right experience to compete at that level?” Kirby countered. “Are you sure you want to go there?” Dan cautioned. After all, it was Dan’s contention that experience wasn’t the end all of cup racing. He set the Cup racing world on its ear when he challenged its long-standing powers. In his first attempt he breezed through the defender trials and beat the preeminent team in recent Cup history, Devon Cahill aboard the Stars & Bars. He went on to represent the U.S. in the America’s Cup beating the Italians to win it all. His

approach to all of this was from a science and technology perspective and a philosophy of a winning attitude he credited his success to. “No, Dan, you’re right. I don’t need the whole winning attitude and technology lecture again. We all agree on it. When can we discuss a strategy and a timeline? There’s a lot to think about here, and we should get started as soon as possible,” Kirby said. “Well, we are getting ready to sail up to the Cape next week. Let’s meet there. Let Brad and Rick know and start thinking about a plan.” “Will do. I’ll call you after you get settled in. Safe trip,” Kirby replied.

Enersys West Palm Beach, FL

So, the idea started to take on a life of its own. You mention it once, and people start pushing buttons to make things happen,” I said. “Yes, to a certain extent. People around me know when I mean business and they are very proactive in researching the next big thing even before I ask.” “You went to the Cape in June. Are you going this year?” I asked. “Yes we are. The kids love the trip up the coast and summers on the Cape.” “And all the art still goes with you?” “I can’t be without it for two months. They’re like my children. I would miss them.” “Can you tell me about the plan?” I asked, wondering if he needed more of a clue about what exactly I was asking. “Sure, the story continues on the Cape.” He knew exactly what I was asking.

CHAPTER 3

THE SKIPPER

Whitbread Race-Around-the World Punta del Este, Uruguay Onboard the U.S. Women’s Challenge

Gail Adley’s six-foot frame stood firmly at the helm of the sprawling 60 foot racing yacht, U.S. Women’s Challenge. Her long blond hair, covered up in the pouring rain, was tucked neatly inside the back of her slicker. She was the perfect combination of size, strength, desire, and experience. It was no wonder Ocean Ventures Management wanted her to take over where the last crew left off. “Drop the lines,” she ordered. The U.S. Women’s Challenge pulled away from the dock in reverse. No one, not even Gail thought this moment would happen, the all women’s team sailing on in the second leg of the Whitbread Race Around the World, a wide open competition for any team that had the and time to sail the distance. The Whitbread was thought by many to be the most fearful and dangerous sailing event in the world. The six legs of the race take nearly a year to complete as teams circumnavigate the globe through some of the most challenging conditions for both crew and vessel. The course took the racers from Southampton, England to Punta del Este, Uruguay in the first leg, then through the Southern Ocean on their way to Australia in the second leg. They would battle monster waves and icy temperatures in boats that were not quite right for the conditions. Gail knew this all too well as this was her second Whitbread. The crew of the Women’s Challenge was an all-female crew, something Gail said she would not do again in this event. She wanted to do the Whitbread only with a

coed crew, not only for the experience that came with a male crew and the extra strength but also for the sponsor money that seemed to flow easily to men’s teams. So, why did she agree to the Women’s Challenge and its all female crew? It wasn’t her first choice. The team Gail ed in Punta del Este wasn’t the same team that sailed at the start of the race from Southampton, England two months earlier. Key crew had deserted the race after the first leg in Punta. Gail got the call at home in the US from David Glenn, a member of Ocean Ventures Management, financial promoter for the Challenge. He asked Gail if she would consider coming onboard as skipper of the all women’s team. She had been following their plight through numerous channels connected to the racing world’s insiders. She knew there were funding problems and a lack of sponsorship, equipment issues, and dissension among the crew. She had expected the Challenge to withdraw, and it was only a small surprise it took one leg of the race for that to happen. David Glenn’s voice came in from Uruguay a bit scratchy. “Gail, this is David Glenn from Ocean Ventures calling from Uruguay. I am ing the U.S. Women’s Challenge here in Punta.” His voice seemed a bit strained as if it helped to yell to reach the states. “I know who you are. We met once during the Whitbread ‘89 campaign. How are you?” Gail yelled back. “Fine, thank you. Gail, the reason I am calling is to ask you if you would be interested in ing the women’s team here in Punta as skipper. You may already know a number of key crew have mutinied. We need an experienced, strong, and capable person to take charge onboard. You are the only person we know of that meets our needs and can salvage this project for us.” David took a breath and waited for a response to the load of material he just laid on her. It was still surprising to her, even though she was aware of the circumstances, to be asked to the crew as skipper. “Well, I’ll need a minute to think about it,” she said, half kidding. This was not a decision she could make rationally in a day. If anything she had to make a gut decision, and all the odds were stacking up against ing. “I have been following the cables, is there anything else I need to know about the team and the condition of the boat?” “Well, we are working on repairs and getting new sponsorship. Other than that

what you have read is all we know at the moment,” David responded, fearful Gail would make a rational decision and not accept. Gail didn’t feel he was being evasive, but he was sure trying to sell her on the project. “Can I let you tomorrow?” she asked. “There is a lot for me to consider.” “Yes, of course, but we do need an answer as soon as possible. We sail again in ten days. Please consider it carefully. If you can’t do it, the project stops here. We really need you, Gail. I’ll be heading back to England tomorrow but you can reach me on my cell.” Glen gave the number and they exchanged goodbyes. Gail hung up staring blankly at the wall in front of her. “I can’t do this,” she said aloud. “Can’t do what?” her sister Dana asked, entering the kitchen. “Another Whitbread,” she answered, knowing all too well what was coming next. “Isn’t that what you have been waiting to do for the last four years?” Dana asked. “Yes, but this isn’t exactly what I had hoped for,” Gail replied. “Why not?” Dana asked, wanting to keep the conversation flowing. Gail hesitated not knowing exactly where to begin, as there was so much wrong with the current circumstances. “Dana, you know the Whitbread has already started, right?” she began. “Well, now that you mention it, yes. How is it that you can sail in it now?” “That’s part of the problem. That call was from David Glenn of Ocean Ventures. They provided the funding to build the U.S. Women’s Challenge and they promote the team to find sponsors and funding. It seems half of the crew left the race in Punta del Este after the first leg. They were having a lot of equipment failures and did not have enough funding to fix everything. This led to the

skipper and some key crew to desert the ship. They felt it was too dangerous to sail off into the Southern Ocean with the boat in such bad shape. Hell, I’d feel the same way. I don’t want to head into that leg of the race without a crew and boat I can rely on, and I don’t know either well enough to make an informed decision,” she said, with some finality. “Well, I guess you’re right. It doesn’t sound all that great when you put it that way.” Dana said, retreating into the living room sipping on a beer. ‘Even so’, Gail thought, ‘what would happen to all the gains we made for women’s racing if the Challenge fails? Sponsors would be very hard to find, and women’s credibility as sailors would be shot if this race ended in Punta. Damn it, I’ve got to do this. Bryan is going to be pissed,’ she thought. Gail and Bryan Tolbert, her boyfriend and hopefully soon to be fiancée, planned to race in the Steigland Cup in New Zealand where they lived together in a country cottage. She often thought of the peace and tranquility she experienced there as a needed respite from the demands of competitive sailing. She felt the next time they were together in Auckland he would propose, but as way leads onto way, racing has kept them apart, always having to be somewhere else soon. Bryan was prepping for his own race onboard the ENZA, a catamaran. Bryan and his crew would try to break the speed record for sailing around the world. The only other thing on Gail’s radar for sailing was the possibility of ing an all women’s crew to compete for the first time ever in the America’s Cup. It was only rumblings now but if it did materialize she would definitely want to be part of that history. For now, that would all have to wait. She would call David and accept the offer on a conditional basis pending her meeting with the crew and inspection of the Women’s Challenge. Gail experienced uncertainty and fear while sailing small boats in big seas. She never thought she would feel the same on land but that all changed upon her arrival in Punta del Este. She was full of anticipation at not knowing what to expect from the crew and what condition the Women’s Challenge was in. Still in her consciousness was the specter of the Southern Ocean, looming as a lioness stalking its prey looking for the weakest among the herd to draw in and devour. She decided she wouldn’t sail if the boat wasn’t fit. As for the crew, there would be at least four she knew and could trust as she picked her own replacements for the crew that mutinied: three new and one from the remaining crew she already knew. It was sheer luck that each of her picks was

available and able to travel on such short notice. First, there was Geri Madison, an experienced sailor who was part of the Whitbread 1989 crew with Gail onboard Maiden. Mandy Sant was also onboard Maiden and agreed to Gail in Punta. She was equally talented and trustworthy, a trait that carried a under the current circumstances. Gail would need a crew that ed her and trusted her leadership. Finally, there was Randi Messer, an uncharacteristic hundred-pound sailor in a land of giants. Randi was an experienced racing captain aboard smaller ships and full of energy and determination. Mikki Kemp was the only one of the remaining crew from the Women’s Challenge she knew. Her information about what happened onboard could prove useful in bringing this crew together. With only four days before the start of the second leg, every advantage would be needed. From day one in Punta, Gail was very anxious to see the Challenge. She wanted to assess its condition. David had arranged for Merritt Carson, a remaining crew member, to meet Gail at the pier where the Women’s Challenge was docked. Merritt was a logical choice as she rose above the politics of the female crew. She only wanted to sail and compete against the men and the sea. She didn’t want it to end in Punta. Gail approached a tall and muscular blond standing alone at the pier. “Are you Gail?” the attractive blond figure asked. “Yes,” Gail replied. “I’m Merritt Carson, pleased to meet you,” she said, with convincing sincerity. “Well here she is.” Merritt signaled with a wave of her hand towards the red hulled Women’s Challenge. “Not much to look at now as she needs a lot of work.” ‘She has a penchant for the obvious’, Gail thought. Gail climbed onboard as Merritt cleared the way. Still silent, Gail surveyed the scene as a strange stillness came over her. Even Merritt quieted down for the moment. Battle scars were evident. Some attempts at healing could be seen as broken down winches, gears, lines, and sails lay about waiting for someone’s attention. She moved below deck to find a stripped-down shell that echoed her movements. She envisioned the setup of a ready to sail version with locked in bunks on the outer edges of the hull, a head, navigation and communication area,

a small galley, and stowage. She stepped back on deck and glanced over the mangled mess of lines and apparatus. “Are you freaking kidding me,” she muttered. “Hasn’t anyone been working on this?” she asked, turning to a clearly calm Merritt. “Just me and a couple of guys from the Yamaha. David told them to do what they could,” she responded. “The Yamaha?” Gail asked. “Yes, that’s OVM’s other boat in the race. They gave us their spare main sail seeing how ours blew apart mid way through the Atlantic. Nice guys and willing to work when they are not partying or hung over which is almost every night.” “What about the rest of the crew?” Gail asked. “Well, you know this a great party town between legs, no pun intended, when your boat’s ready to float. Our gals may have forgotten that last part.” “When can I meet them?” Gail asked impatiently. “We figured you might want to do that so we arranged to get together for lunch today if that’s OK,” Merritt said happily. “Lunch! Screw lunch. I want to meet here at one and have everyone ready to work. Can you that message to the gals?” Gail said, suddenly realizing she was shooting the messenger and only crew member interested enough to work on the boat. “Listen, Merritt,” she said, in a much calmer voice, “If we want to sail on Saturday we need to start now. Hell, we needed to start last week.” “I’ll see what I can do,” Merritt replied, a little intimidated. It was easy to deliver the message. Every one was gathered at Guappa’s, a local café overlooking the port where many of the crews gathered for their meals and the best sangria in Punta. The message delivered by Merritt was received with mixed reviews and clamorous debate, but in the end all agreed to meet this bitch, but after lunch, of course. After a brief but busy round of emails and phone calls, Gail arrived at the pier

just before one. Much to her surprise everyone had arrived and was sitting about the deck on any free surface they could find. Geri, her hand-picked crewmate, had made it in from the states along with Mandy Sant. ‘Nice to see a friendly face’, Gail thought, as she climbed onboard. She nodded and grinned her way to a central spot where she could see everyone’s faces. “Thank you everyone for being here. My name is Gail Adley. You all know why I am here.” She barely got the words out when Allison Callahan, an outspoken carryover, interjected. “That might be a good place to start, explaining what you are doing here.” This received mumbled from a least three other crewmates. Gail felt the resentment building at that point. She knew there was no time to lose in an ongoing political battle between the carryovers and the carry-ons. They all had to be of one mind and purpose, a team that did more than just race well together because it would ultimately be a matter of survival if they were to go forward. “Yes, what am I doing here was the question in case you didn’t hear it.” The carry-ons chuckled. Gail was shrewd to answer by addressing the very things she knew were causing the resentment. “I know I haven’t been with you all from the start. Neither have the replacement crew I have brought along. That doesn’t mean we don’t know about the sacrifices you all have made and the effort that goes into pulling a team together. We have been there. We have put in time in this kind of race. That’s why I am here to tell you in order for us to put a boat in the water this Saturday, we need to pull together as a team and start focusing on the things that us rather than things that divide us. Tell me one thing that should us together.” An uneasy quiet ensued. ‘Were they just thinking it over or was there nothing anyone could think of or wanted to offer? Were the things that divided us too hard to overcome?’ Gail thought. She wanted a carryover person to speak up first, but was grateful when Geri opened up. “Well, for one we are all women,” she said. “Yes, let’s talk about that for a minute.” Gail hopped right in. “You all know what it took to get here. It’s easier for the men’s teams. They get the and sponsors they need, not to mention the respect of the sailing world. Women have

to work so much harder for everything they get. You all know that the money has just not come in for this project. If we quit now, any gains made for women in competitive sailing will be lost and maybe for good. Think about it. What else?” she asked, looking over a more attentive crew. A carryover, Leah Neusom spoke out. “We all like to compete against the men.” “Great, thank you,” Gail said enthusiastically. “None of us would choose to do this if there wasn’t something burning in our gut to make us want to sail and compete. If desire were all that was needed, we would be miles ahead of the men. But we need something else, experience. We are a new generation of sailors just coming into our own. We must keep it going. What else?” “I think we all feel we have something to prove. Yes, we are women but there are no challenges we can’t meet and no boundaries we can’t cross,” Randi Messer offered. “That’s very fitting, Randi, that you bring this point up. Look at Randi. She weighs only 100 pounds, and I would go anywhere with her on my team. There is one more thing I want to add. In four days we sail in the second leg of the Whitbread. You all know what that means.” A low mumble went through the deck. Gail continued, “That’s right, the Southern Ocean. I know you don’t want to go there if we are not committed to each other as a team to succeed. Yes, we need to be united as a team but also need a boat that will carry us through. I need to know two things. First, that you are willing to go forward as a team and I need a show of hands,” Gail said firmly. Almost without hesitation all hands went up. “Great,” she affirmed. “And second I need to know is that you will be willing to do whatever it takes to get this boat sea worthy or more importantly Southern Ocean ready by Saturday. Before you raise your hands know what I am asking you to do. I have put together a list of about 100 items we need to complete before we sail. It’s going to take all of your time and energy to get through it. I am talking 10 to 14 hours a day and more if needed. Are you willing to stop the partying and get back to the work of being the all women’s team? I need a show of hands.”

Even quicker than before all hands went up with a hoot and howl and high fives all around. The bonding process had begun.

That night Gail was eager to talk with Bryan. All he had heard about this project was dismal, and he was concerned for Gail’s well-being under the current circumstances. Gail had assured him that if things didn’t improve she would not go forward. She let David Glen know to, which was why he was working hard to get things done and find her the help she needed. He was also working hard to secure a new sponsor. Negotiations had been going on for weeks, but David didn’t want to say anything until the deal was done since these things often went south in a hurry. If they could make due and sail in the second leg, David was sure he would have the new sponsor onboard by the time they reached Australia.

“Bryan, great news.” She greeted her distant boyfriend full of excitement she hadn’t felt for a long time. “Hello, to you to. You sound a little excited,” he said, giving her a chance to catch her breath. “I know, I’m excited for the first time since, well, I don’t when, but let me tell you. You know how going forward with the Whitbread all hinged on pulling this team together and getting the boat in shape in four days, well now three,” she corrected herself. “Yes,” Bryan interjected, giving Gail another opportunity to breathe. “I think it’s going to work. I had a meeting with the remaining crew of the Women’s Challenge and my picks and we hashed out our issues. We all came together in the end. It was beautiful. We are going forward and I think we can get the boat ready. It will be a lot of work but they all agreed to give it all they could,” she said, quite exhilarated. “That’s the best news yet. Congratulations. You must be thrilled. I have some news for you to, that I think you will like. It seems you may be getting a new sponsor. The deal is not done yet but I heard it’s close,” Bryan offered.

“What?” Gail said, somewhat more surprised than happy. Happy was in there though buried somewhere in her flush of emotions. In an instant a flurry of random thoughts ran through her mind in no particular order; ‘Why wasn’t I told? Could this be real? When will they be onboard? Too late for this leg, Where is David? Oh he’s back in England, supposed to be here by Saturday. Maybe that’s why he didn’t tell me, no he didn’t want to say anything prematurely.’ “How did you find out before me?” she asked, trying not to shoot the messenger again. “I’m sorry, honey, I thought this would be good news,” he tepidly replied, noting the stress in her voice. “It’s alright. It’s not your fault. It just seems with all I’m facing and the condition I’m in, I might have gotten the news before the rest of the racing world,” she calmly responded. “Well, it’s not really like that. I got the news from Dorrie and Sam in England. They have a friend high up in the new sponsor’s management. It’s really insider stuff. Not a lot of people know about it.” “I guess,” Gail agreed. “Uh, Gail, do you want to know who the sponsor is?” Bryan asked, ever so gently. “Of course, what was I thinking,” she said. “It’s Heineken,” Bryan informed her. “Wow, that’s major. I hope they realize how much it’s going to take to get this bucket in shape, I mean not right now, but over the course of the race. I need to talk to David.” Her mind was racing again. They finished their conversation an hour later and not once did the race, the crew, or the Women’s Challenge come up. They had a life together they needed to build despite the long distance. It all swirled in her head after they said goodbye. It would be hard to sleep tonight. There was so much to do, so much to think about. Sleep seemed like a luxury she could not

afford but desperately needed. Gail chose not to let the crew know about their potential new sponsor. She didn’t know how the crew would respond to the disappointment if it didn’t pan out. Right now they had to concentrate on the grueling days ahead of them. Each crew member had their assigned tasks in the areas they would be responsible for onboard when the race began. Gail assigned positions based on what she knew of the crew ’ past performance, skills, and previous experience on the Women’s Challenge. All were in agreement with their roles. Merritt would be her bow person. She seemed fearless and well suited to handle the front of the boat. Gloria was a certified mechanic and former NASCAR pit crew member. Her southern drawl gave her Texas roots away. She had a “don’t mess with me” attitude; she was very fit and well suited to take on what needed repairing, including all the onboard fuel driven systems, ballast, the desalinator, battery systems, diesel mechanics, supplies, and the steering system. She would need help. Gail assigned Leah to work with her. She was a good fit as Gloria needed someone who would take orders without hearing pleases and thank yous. Leah would also be in charge of repairing the halyards while working below with Gloria on other systems and controls. Kay Matson, tall and muscular, perhaps too large to be working the pit would, nevertheless, assist with the heavy lifting working on reinstalling the bunks and setting up the galley. Liz Beckham, a physician, would work on re-stocking the Women’s Challenge from lists provided by all and approved by Gail. Space was very limited onboard and meeting all the needs of 12 women for the next month was definitely out of the question. Sue Croft, Geri, and Mandy would work the sails once out to sea. They would be responsible for everything connected to the sails from lines to winches. Allison Callahan was the navigator, and the most outspoken member of the crew. She had excellent skills with communications equipment, a vital part of the onboard survival systems. Trusting her with this area was hard, as she was still not an unconditional er of Gail’s leadership role, however, she would be given some leeway. She was an attorney by trade, and much of the turmoil that had plagued the Women’s Challenge earlier had now gone legal. Allison had some unresolved issues from a legal perspective with the ownership that now transferred to Gail. She would need to get over it. Gail watched her closely to see how it impacted her responsibilities onboard and with the other crew . In all, twelve crew, along with some intermittent help from the men aboard Yamaha, needed to strip down their assigned area and rebuild, replace, and/or repair every critical piece of equipment all in three days.

Punta del Este, Uruguay Race Day Saturday, November 17, 1993

The Women’s Challenge motored out to the starting area. The crew was more nervous than Gail expected but maybe it was just from being weary, a condition that would get worse before it got better, as four hour alternating watches for three teams would be the way of life for the balance of the second leg. “Hoist the head,” Gail ordered, and the headsail streamed up the mast. The start of an event like this was a delicate balance of timing, acceleration, and luck. If you crossed the starting line ahead of the gun, you would have to circle back and cross again, losing valuable time to the field. If you were in the wrong position at the start, you would give the field an early advantage as you would be outmaneuvered and shuffled to the back of the pack. But more importantly, to the hundreds if not thousands of spectators, you would look like real amateurs. This was not the impression the women’s team wanted. All the ships jockeyed about for position in anticipation of the start of the race. The ten-minute gun sounded, then the five went off and the real sailing began. It was pandemonium all about as tradition would have it. Hundreds of small craft ed in the regatta headed for the starting line while just out of harm’s way. The Women’s Challenge was speeding towards the starting line. Speed and distance readings came every few seconds. Gail made mental calculations though her gut would be the final arbiter for trim adjustments affecting their speed. With her hand steady on the helm and the spinnaker full of air, they hit the starting line just seconds after the starter’s gun cracked above the roar from sea and land. Nerves gone, the faces of the all women’s crew beamed as they settled mid pack doing what they loved to do best, sail. The smaller chase craft began to drop off, and the roar of the crowd was far behind them. In fact, it was only the sounds of the sea and the familiar sounds of boat and crew that filled their senses. It was where Gail wanted to be right now and although it was in the back of her mind, even the Southern Ocean’s ferocity couldn’t steal this moment from her. For now the sky had cleared, and it would be a bright night full of stars

and a fast sail towards Australia.

CHAPTER 4

HOW TO BUILD A WOMEN’S TEAM

Cape Cod Mass Dan’s Summer Home, June 1993

Every June soon after school let out down south, the Cook’s would head up the coast on their family yacht to summer on Cape Cod. It had been a great family tradition ever since Dan was child. Now his family of 6, plus two when his children from his first marriage ed them in July, carried on the much anticipated summer long vacation. Dan, of course, worked from home, beach, or boat. Not much interfered with running the family cash machine. Now with the formative stages of the women’s team so occupying his attention, the vacation part of the Cape would be up to his loving and understanding fourth wife, Barbara.

Dan skillfully piloted Summer Love, the family yacht, along the dock, floating ever so gently into the waiting hands of Dan’s security team on the dock. The advance team of housekeepers, cooks, groundskeepers, and security opened the estate weeks prior to their arrival and made it home for the Cook’s. “Ahoy, Dan.” Jeff Burke greeted Dan each year in this way for as long as he could pulling into their summer retreat. “Ahoy, Jeff,” Dan obliged, calling to his long time friend and head of security. With the boat secure and greetings all around completed, a small band of housekeepers and assorted helpers made their way onboard to unload and move the family’s belongings up to the estate. Barbara most appreciated the pathway

up the lane from the dock. It cut through beautiful plush lawns, colorful flowerbeds, and sculptured shrubbery trimmed to perfection. The outside of the country colonial-style home was simple yet elegant with a welcoming farmer’s porch that overlooked the bay. Inside, however, was another world. Dan’s art collection moved in ahead of his arrival and was hung meticulously in prearranged configurations and locations in the home. It all but transformed the summer retreat into an elaborate museum of fine art, comfortable though it was. It was no bother or concern to let his children around the art. They understood not so much the value of the pieces but respected their rarity and beauty. “Did the collection make it in OK?” Dan asked Jeff as they approached the front door. “Totally without incident. Everything in its place as you like it,” Jeff responded. “Great. Hi, Molly,” he called to his housekeeper. “Hello, Mr. Cook,” Molly replied, never being able to call him Dan. He always was and always will be Mr. Cook. “Lunch is ready whenever you and Miss Barbara are ready.” She added. “Wonderful, we are all starving,” he answered. “I checked in with Chief Reynolds last week. No incidents to report. It was quiet here all winter. Chief Reynolds sends his regards,” Jeff reported. “Good, send over a case of something for him and his squad,” Dan instructed. It was another tradition Dan carried over from his father’s day when it paid to have the local constabulary pay a little more attention to your property. With the update complete, Dan walked through the corridor leading to his office stopping briefly to ire, as if for the first time, works of art that adorned the walls. He plopped down his laptop and brief case and sat heavily in his office chair. His office was spacious and well lit from sunlight that poured in from the windows facing southwest over Nantucket Bay. The décor was seafaring with seascapes and antique boating articles from the 17th and 18th century. He gazed over the property sloping down to the waters edge and then out to sea. A hundred sails swirled in his vision. ‘A good day to sail,’ he thought. His children, Wyatt and William, came into view being chased by their sisters, Charlotte and Robin, in an energetic game of tag designed to shake off 5 days of sailing up the coast.

Dan smiled, wondering where their energy came from. ‘We will all sleep well tonight,’ he spoke softly.

The daylight hours ed quickly as everyone settled into what would be their residence for the next two months. The late night was reserved for Dan and Barbara to bond and shore up their delicate relationship, always under pressure from their demanding lives. For Dan, of course , it was a multi-billion-dollar business but Barbara also had to work hard to keep the family life in balance. Children of the privileged often don’t receive the attention they need from their busy and self-satisfying parents. Barbara wasn’t going to let that happen. It was her daily duty to maintain and steer relationships within the family, know what was going on at all times in each child’s life, and respond to each of their needs, fears, joys, hopes, and sorrows. In much the same way, Barbara would maintain relationships with the staff. She wanted long-term trusting relationships and worked hard to achieve it. And then there was the social agenda that Dan hated but needed and left the details to Barbara. “You haven’t said much about the women’s team,” Dan said. “I know,” Barbara responded. A brief period of silence ensued as Dan waited for a bit more reaction to gauge her feelings about the subject. “I think I know what you are feeling,” he continued. “You’re worried that this will be like the last Cup. I’m never home and you and the kids will be left alone all the time,” he concluded. “Well, now that you mention it, this has all the elements of another Cup run, and you know how much I enjoyed the last one.” Barbara never really understood why a billionaire energy tycoon went way off course in his life to pursue, with great zeal, Cup racing at the highest levels from an idea he conceived while sailing the family yacht around the Cape. It wasn’t, of course, the Cup itself that drew him in. It was the challenge and pursuit of a hypothesis that drove the scientist in him to experiment and prove his theory. It was to become a mantra of sorts: that he could compete at the highest levels of sailing with little experience if he had the right technology, and a determined team with the right attitude. “It’s not going to be like that,” Dan assured Barbara. “I’m putting a management

team in place that will take control of everything once the crew is in place.” “Really?” Barbara questioned. Dan knew there was a lot history for him to overcome. “Barbara, I’m not planning to be as fully involved with the women’s team as I was with the Cup where I built the boats, put the team together, and worked a plan to win the Cup. It took a lot of my time and attention. I have the boats, I proved my point, and now I have a management team that can carry this new plan forward. Really, it will be different. I’m even meeting with a few of the team here to get things rolling,” he said, thinking this was a good thing. “Here?” Barbara asked, with an ‘are you kidding me?’ tone in her voice. “Well, yes,” Dan replied, still thinking it was a good idea. “At least I’m not jetting off to Palm Beach or San Diego or somewhere. I need to get this off the ground before I let the team take over.” “Can we talk about something else?” Barbara conceded. She knew Dan’s determination and didn’t want to interfere with his business or ions. “Sure, do you have something in mind?” “We want a dog.”

It wasn’t unusual to see stretch limos cruising around the neighborhood on Grand Island. So when one drove up Dan’s drive nary a head turned except Dan’s as he got up to greet his brain trust. Three men got out of the limo dressed in casual kakis and UA3 polos with the team emblem from the last cup. Kirby led the way to the patio where Dan and Barbara sat sipping vodka and tonics as they overlooked the Bay. Brad Phelps, who helped with the promotion and fundraising for the ‘92 cup, and Rick Herrington, legal counsel for Enersys and the ‘92 Cup, followed Kirby. The three along with Dan would form the brain trust that would share ideas and formulate plans for moving forward with Dan’s latest project. “Gentleman, welcome.” Dan reached out to shake their hands.

A chorus of hellos followed, including Barbara who was very fond of the new arrivals on a personal level. “Hello, Kirby, hi Rick, Brad,” she nodded. “Pull up a chair. Can we get you all something?” Her southern charm came pouring through her words. “Sure, what you’re having looks cool and wet,” Kirby replied. “Vodka tonic,” she offered, and all three nodded in approval. It was a pleasant afternoon. There was no business to speak of, just friendly talk. The kids played outdoors and swam under the watchful eye of security. Dinner was grilled to perfection: a sumptuous feast of beef tenderloin, tuna steaks, salmon, and hot dogs. The sun set beautifully over the Bay and didn’t unnoticed by the guests who were now sipping port or twenty-year-old single malt. “I guess we can begin tomorrow, no sense ruining the end of a perfect day,” Dan suggested, much to the approval of all around.

Another beautiful day on the Cape was brewing as the sun rose slowly and brightly on the eastern horizon. The staff was already busy prepping for the day’s meals. Dan and his team were also on the move and in typical fashion not willing to waste time on a big breakfast. Coffee and bagels fit the bill that morning. “Here we are again.” Dan started off getting everyone’s attention. “I think we have Kirby to thank, after all I had forgotten about Cup racing until he brought it up at our victory celebration. Now that my juices are flowing again, it seems I can’t put this notion down of an all women’s team competing for the first time in the America’s Cup. It’s a good thing, I think, and an idea whose time has come. So, as a preliminary step to launching a full-blown project, I thought it would be a good idea to gather a few of the top minds in Cup racing to discuss what it would take to put an all women’s team in the water.” Dan took a sip of coffee to allow for some thoughts to start flowing. “Dan,” Rick started carefully, “I’ve been around long enough to know that you want an open forum here and honest discussion, so let me start by saying there is

a lot to accomplish in a very short time. Heck, we don’t even know if there are twenty women who can sail at the level we need to compete. Is it enough to just compete, or do you want to win it?” Rick asked. “I want to win it or at least make a very good effort by all s. Anyone else?” Dan opened the floor. “While it is true women do not have Cup experience, I know there are women out there who can sail, and I can give them the tools they need to compete. Dan, it’s been your mantra that experience isn’t the end-all of Cup racing,” Kirby concluded, looking at Dan who was grinning widely. “That’s what I’m thinking. It’s a challenge that fits my philosophy. Brad, you know it all too well,” Dan said, drawing Brad into the discussion. “Yes, technology, talent, and attitude or something like that,” Brad answered, caught a little off guard. “Exactly, and Rick you are right, it’s going to take a lot of effort to make this happen, so I don’t want to dwell on why we can’t do it and focus on what we need to do to make it happen.” From that point on everyone knew to frame any negative point as a challenge and include a possible solution. “Several things need to happen at once,” Rick said, recognizing a , ‘debate is over’, tone in Dan’s voice. “Go on,” Dan encouraged. “I will revisit all of the rules of the Cup to be sure there are no loopholes the Cup venue or IACC can use to keep us from competing. I’m sure there will be challenges from the good ole boys. We will need to start raising money and at the same time begin to identify potential crew . We should cast a wide net and choose from the best candidates. Kirby will need to come up with the best channels for announcing tryouts for the team, identify staff to assist, and anything else necessary to the crew’s needs. And we really need to Peter to get an update on the compound in San Diego. It will probably need a lot of work in order for us to use it as a living and training facility. As far as funding is concerned, Brad, it can go one of two ways: either very badly as

major sponsors will be leery of an all women’s team competing at the top level of an all men’s sport, or if the times are right as Mr. Cook suggests, they will see it as an opportunity to be a part of history. Either way, you will probably get a lot of ‘let’s wait and see’ responses so we are going to need some seed money to get us through the first six months or so. About $5 million should do. Brad, can you Mr. Cook to see if he is willing to sink that much into this project?” Rick concluded. All three turned to Dan who was only a little amused. “I thought it would be more. I will be happy to assist. Well, it looks like we have some work to do and calls to make. Kirby, you can share this space with Brad. Rick, you can take my office. Let’s meet again tomorrow morning before you head out. Thank you all very much.” With a starting budget of $5million, everyone seemed eager to get moving. Rick would set each of them up with an expense as in the past. “Dan, can I have a word with you?” Rick asked. “Sure, follow me,” Dan directed, as he headed towards the den. “I think we are going to need a lead person to run this project. You and I are going to be much too busy with Enersys.” “You’re probably right. It will need more of our attention than we can give. Do you have someone in mind?” Dan inquired. “I thought Gil Stern would be a good fit. He has Cup experience, and is on a couple of boards with me. He’s a take charge kind of guy.” “Give him a call. I would like us all to meet, if possible here on the Cape.” “It should be no problem. He is in Newport for the summer. I’ll try to arrange something for next week,” Rick offered. Two ‘take charge’ kind of guys, Dan thought to himself, not quite ready to give up control. He had to consider it though. Enersys would need all of his attention

as they were about to begin crucial negotiations for acquiring Energy South, a massive gas and electric company serving parts of the Southeast. “Do you think he will be onboard with the all women’s team idea?” Dan asked, as an after thought. “Who wouldn’t he be? It’s history after all,” Rick quipped.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“As I understand it you almost gave up on the whole idea of having an all women’s team and skipped the cup altogether,” I said. “Yes, that’s true. You recall Rick set up a meeting with Gil Stern to take the lead on the project,” Dan replied. “Yes, he was in Newport and you were going to meet him on the Cape the next week.” “Correct, well we met. Gil was in fact a take charge person as Rick pointed out earlier. That turned out to be a two edged sword. I did need someone to take charge so I could step back. Gil was perfect for that, but in the end he couldn’t accept the idea of an all women’s team. His focus began to be more and more about winning the Cup rather than about making history. After three months on the job, he almost had everyone convinced a co-ed team was the only way to go. I stepped in forcefully and insisted the all women’s team was the basis for this project going forward. After that Gil resigned,” Dan said reflectively. “How did the project get back on track?” I asked. “It didn’t, at least not right away. The team wasn’t sure which way we were going, so the whole process ground to a halt. It took me a while, but I got over my feelings of betrayal and began to feel again that the first ever women’s team in the Cup was a worthy pursuit. It was in mid-December of ’93 that we met

again to clear the air and get this project back on track. I wanted everyone to be relaxed and in the right frame of mind, so I set up the meeting at the PGA National Golf Resort in Palm Beach Gardens. We played a round in the morning, had lunch, and by early afternoon settled into a conference room to see where we stood,” Dan recounted.

PGA National Golf Resort Palm Beach Gardens

“Great day gentlemen. I know how busy everyone is so I appreciate your time and willingness to meet to see where we stand on this project. I know I let things slide for a while. That was my fault. I let Gil bring in some of his team and, well, you all know what happened. I want to say once again, and I believe everyone in this room agrees, an all women’s team in the Cup is history. Anything else is just another run at the Cup. So, let’s be brief. I want an update on where we stand before I make an announcement I’m sure you will like. Kirby, let’s start with you.” “OK, Dan. Well, I have identified and ed 15 women about our project. Of the 15, 11 are interested but have not committed to the project at this time. I will provide each of you with their bios. I also developed a strategy on how to attract the most qualified prospects for tryouts in San Diego this spring. In addition, I have put together training and workout programs that will have the women ready to sail in any event.” “Sounds like you have kept busy. Good job, Kirby. Rick, what do you have?” “I have cleared the way legally. There are no loopholes to worry about, and San Diego Yacht Club welcomes the women’s team to the trials. At this point there are two other teams competing, Stars & Bars of course and PACE ’95, a new group headed by John Marsal. Both groups gave their written consent. And, just as a side note, when I spoke with our friend, Devon Cahill, he asked why we would waste our time and money on trying to field an all women’s team. His attitude was very dismissive,” Rick commented.

“If they could use Devon’ ego as a spinnaker, no one would catch him,” Dan added. He was very familiar with Devon and his ego. He talked up a big story prior to the ’92 Cup, about how family yachting was no training ground for Cup racing. How satisfying even to this day it was for Dan to have eliminated Devon in the trials. “What’s going on with fundraising, Brad?” Dan asked. “The feelers I put out are very preliminary. Most wanted more details about the team than I could give. But now it seems we are going forward and I can give some timelines, crew details, and a management team update. This all helps solidify . The major sponsors are going to take more of a wait and see position until we are a little further down the road. They are happy to see you are invested in the project, Dan. It goes a long way to boosting their confidence. If you want some on the almost on the list, try L’Oréal, Dry Idea, and Glamour. There are a few auto manufactures with some interest, Chevy, Ford, and Saab. I’m pretty confident they will step up as we get closer to announcing our team.” “Peter, what’s going on in San Diego?” Dan continued his inquiry. “I cleared up the mess out there regarding the liens against the property with Rick’s help. We secured the area and are now in the midst of a major rehab project to make it is a state of the art training and facility. We will be able to provide housing, meals, and training for about 40 – 60 prospects at a time.” “Sounds great, thank you, Peter. I know we lost some time but I feel we can get back on track. Once we go public I believe there will be a lot of media interest and exposure. I want to look ready. I want us to exude confidence and have prepared answers to the invasive questions the press will be asking. I know it’s asking a lot of you with the short amount of time left but I think you will be happy to know I ed Vince Meyers last week to ask him if he would be interested in taking the lead on this project. He got back to me yesterday and accepted the position.” Dan paused to the sounds of approval from all. “You all know Vince and his abilities to pull a project like this together and he’s fully onboard with the women’s team concept. He couldn’t be with us today as he is in Europe visiting family for the holidays. But he will arrive in early January to work full-time on the project. Rick, can you send him an update on where we stand after today? OK, let’s brainstorm on how and when we will roll this project out to the public,” Dan said, sensing a high point in everyone’s spirits.

The meeting went on for two more hours teeming with ideas for everything from crew t-shirts to the media blitz. For better or for worse the first women’s team ever to compete in the America’s Cup was becoming a reality.

CHAPTER 5

WOMEN VS. THE SOUTHERN OCEAN

Whitbread 2nd Leg The Southern Ocean

The Women’s Challenge was five days out from Punta, and the conditions couldn’t have been more misleading. The crew spent their free time on deck basking in abundant sunshine of a high pressure system gracing the region. Winds were moderate filling the spinnaker and driving the boat along at about 15 knots. “Too bad this won’t last forever,” Geri said as she approached Gail at the helm. She was suitably dressed for the weather in a tank top, shorts, and bare feet. “They don’t seem to have a clue,” replied Gail, with a firm clasp on the helm. “We should enjoy it while we can,” Geri said, looking down the deck to the bow where several of the crew sunbathed topless. “I just hope they are ready when the reality of the Southern Ocean hits.” Gail became pensive as she stared somewhere off in the distant horizon. She was thinking of the team meeting she had with the crew back in Punta. It seemed then that everyone was coming together but now it was evident that the team was still fractured along party lines: the old and the new. The carryovers were making certain decisions on their own, undermining Gail’s authority. ‘Would they follow her commands when split second decisions had to be made and orders followed without question? People are going to get hurt,’ she thought. Allison broke Gail’s trance. “Thought you might like to know we are in 9th place,” she said, more accusingly than informative. Weekly updates were sent via SatCom by the Whitbread committee. Reports

indicated the position of all boats, as well as their average speed and general heading. “Can you take the helm a second?” she asked Allison. “Can’t, got to track some weather building south of us,” she replied, as she left Gail with one hand on the helm. “Geri, can you take the helm a sec?” Gail called out to Geri, who was now sunning on the deck. “Sure, what’s up?” she asked, noticing Gail was a bit anxious. “Nothing, I just want to look over the latest SatCom. Looks like we are in 9th place,” She said, headed below, still thinking of the level of deterioration the team had experienced after only four days at sea. Gail sat nearby Allison in the communication center where they studied reports and computer images. Allison was indeed reading up on a low pressure system building to their south that would certainly cross their path given their current heading. Merritt came over to Gail from her bunk. “SatCom?” she asked. “Yeah, interesting route several boats are taking. More southerly than I would have expected,” Gail responded. Then somewhat surprisingly Allison piped in with some useful information. “They may be chasing some wind if these reports are right,” she said, sliding closer with weather faxes in hand. Three heads together looked over the reports. ‘This feels good’, Gail thought. The forecast was for this system to grow and deepen like most storms were supposed to in the region. “Looks fearsome,” Merritt said, blankly staring at the computer screen images. “Why are they headed towards it?” Gloria asked, having ed in the huddle moments ago. Gail recognized this was a question asked by an inexperienced sailor.

“They are going to catch the winds off the southeast edge of the storm. The idea is to let it carry you along the leading edge going north towards your destination,”Gail responded. “Why don’t we do that?” Gloria asked. Gail hesitated for a moment. It was one of those face the truth moments or come to Jesus moments as Gloria would have called it from her Texas Southern Baptist roots. “How do I say this?” Gail began slowly. “It’s a risky maneuver that will take us a lot closer to Antarctica than I want to get especially with this….” She again hesitated and reloaded, “Especially when I am not sure of our true capabilities to work as a team. It’s dangerous and this boat is still very much an issue. We are sailing with a hand-me-down main and worn out everything else. Blow out the main and we’ll be afloat in the Arctic Ocean in a field of Icebergs at 20 below.” Everyone in the cabin stayed quiet. It was hard to tell if it was from fear, anger, or disbelief. “I’m going on deck,” Gail said, briskly walking away. “Leah,” Gail called out as she reached the deck. “Take the helm from Geri,” she ordered with something in her voice that made her move quickly to the helm. “Geri, get Mandy and meet me on the bow. We need to talk.” “What about Randi and Mikki?” Geri asked. “No, I don’t want this seem like a pow-wow with my hand picked crew,” Gail said. “Just Mandy for now.” Gail made her way slowly to the bow as though see was enjoying the sun. She stretched out a distance from Sue and Mikki manning the spinnaker and main sail sheets in the gusty winds. “What’s up?” Geri asked upon her arrival with Mandy. “I have to make some hard decisions about our route and prepare the crew for what I believe will be a close brush with a major ocean storm brewing,” Gail

said, pulling out the faxes Allison had given to her. “This is going to be a monster storm. I believe it will intersect our path if we keep on our current heading and try to outrun it. The crew is already asking why we don’t head south like the boys and follow a stiff wind into Fremantle. I hope I don’t have to tell you why that’s a bad idea.” Almost simultaneously Geri and Mandy answered, “Not with this crew and boat.” The excitement in their voices caught Sue’s attention. “We need to keep it down a little,” Gail cautioned. “You are right, but the questions are going to come, and we again are going to be divided. The way things are going now they will want to do things their own way and we can’t go looking for danger with that kind of mentality onboard. Hell, the danger will find us soon enough, and we better be ready for it or it will swallow us up like chum.” “Can’t we just steer clear of it?” Mandy asked. “That’s my plan and I hope that once I get a better reading on the speed and direction of this thing we will be close enough to Fremantle to deal with any problems that arise. What I need you, Randi, and Mikki to do is talk it up with the others about how we need to be safe and pull together as a team. I think Gloria and Leah are pretty non-political when it comes to safety, and certainly Merritt is. We may be able to isolate Allison, Sue, and Liz so they don’t infect the team.” “We’ll do our best,” Geri assured Gail. Gail gazed to the south. ‘Nothing to see yet,’ she thought. But that would soon change. Later that day, a chill was in the air that added some discomfort to the mild breeze that had continually swept the deck for the last 12 hours. Gail called everyone on deck to address concerns and the accusations that had been circulating all day. “Allison and I have been tracking a bad weather situation that has been developing south of us. You may have heard that some of the teams have taken a southerly route to catch a fast wind off the low towards Fremantle. We are not going to take that approach. It is safer for us as a crew on this ship to follow our

current heading. So, as long as this high pressure system keeps pushing us in the right direction, we will continue to enjoy its benefits. Any questions?” Gail concluded. “The other teams gain a great advantage on us if we don’t follow suit. How are we supposed to make up the time?” Allison asked, somewhat accusingly. “My first concern is for the safety of this crew. Yes, we will lose some ground but we are making some good time on the back side of this high and you all seem to be enjoying the sun,” Gail added, somewhat sarcastically. “Won’t we intersect the low at some point?” Sue asked. “Given its current speed and direction, we will cross its projected path a day ahead of the point of intersection. I know we are cutting it close, but I know that when the time comes we will all be ready and do our jobs. Any other questions?” she asked. “Well, if there are no more questions, you’re dismissed,” Gail said, amidst hushed rumblings. Geri and Randi held back to assess the outcome with Gail. “I guess I was expecting more dissension,” Geri said. “They must have gotten a look at the satellite photos of the storm. They probably know their limitations,” Gail replied, watching Gloria approach them. “Good decision, Gail,” Gloria drawled. “I’ve seen some radar in my days, but this looks like a Texas whopper,” she said, retreating below. “Well, guys we have three days to clear its path. Let’s hope everything goes according to projections,” Gail said. “We are talking about the weather, aren’t we,” Geri kidded, to nervous laughter. Two days later the winds began to pick up but it was still partly sunny around huge cumulus clouds, the type that spawn thunder storms. Gail noticed a slight shift in the direction of the wind and told Geri to take the helm and tack as she went below. “Allison, what’s the latest readings on the storm?” she asked.

Perhaps a more experienced skipper or navigator could have predicted the high pressure would pick up speed and head more northwest faster than expected with a monster low pushing it from the south. Now, they not only lost a favorable wind but had to head in the direction of the storm to stay somewhat on course. Allison and Gail both stared incredulously at the approaching storm that seemed to have doubled in size overnight. “Holy shit,” Allison whispered. “Yeah, holy shit is right,” Gail concurred, as they both stared at the satellite imagery on the computer. “We’ve got about ten hours. We need to get ready. We’re going to be on the wrong side of this thing and pushed way off course, that is if we stay afloat,” she added. While it was not usually her style to be so ominous, this time the conditions seemed to warrant it. Everyone needed to know this was go time. It was their ninth day out when the air turned frigid and the winds shifted. Sue and Mikki felt it first as they struggled to keep the main sail boom from clearing the deck. “Gail!” they yelled, and instantly she knew it was upon them. “Merritt, we have to drop the chute,” she yelled. Everyone went into action. Merritt clamped on her harness and shot up the mast to release the pinnings and lower the massive sail now filled with air and whipping the boat around in a northwesterly direction. The crew assembled below to gather in the spinnaker as Merritt struggled to release the corner. It was too late. The winds came up suddenly and violently. The spinnaker blew apart and flapped uncontrollably in the wind. The sea tossed the boat wildly, and the icy spray was like a wake up slap in everyone’s face. The party was over. “Get that sail onboard.” Gail yelled above the roar of sea and wind. It had fallen into the sea and took on a ton of water, weighing the boat down and turning it dangerously in the wrong direction. It would only take one of these waves hitting them broadside in their current position to roll them over. Everyone would be in jeopardy. Gail was frightened for the first time with this crew. “We’ve got to turn the boat! Watch the boom, look out,” she yelled, warning

everyone in its path as the boom went flying over the deck. Randi caught the main sail sheet across her back and was thrown into the safety line. Sue lost her footing to a crashing wave and went sliding down the deck to the bow, hitting the guard rail hard. Allison helped the injured get below while everyone else struggled to get the spinnaker up and stowed as the Southern Ocean punished them for their lack of experience or perhaps respect. The Southern Ocean wasn’t done with them yet. The main sail suddenly tore. Gail prayed that the heavy Kevlar material would hold. Looking up she saw Merritt swing out from the mast as she lost her grip. She was able to reach out and grip the pole as she whipped by on the return. “Hold on,” Gail yelled, but Merritt could not hear her. “We need to hoist our number three,” she yelled again. Merritt knew what was coming even though she could not hear Gail. No one had a moment to spare to replace the torn sail. An idle thought ran through Gail’s mind: ‘They would have to sew it in order to stay in the race.’ “Focus,” she yelled at herself. “We need to survive first!” With the spinnaker out of the water, Gail was able to steer the boat with the wind. They were going away from their target but at least they were not in imminent danger of capsizing. Mikki and Geri brought down the main sail and hoisted the number 3 sail to keep up speed and control of the boat. Merritt was finally able to come down from her precarious perch. “We’re all tied off,” Merritt reported. “Great job, Merritt. It took a lot of nerve. You may have saved us all,” Gail replied. “I thought we were going to miss this,” Merritt yelled in Gail’s ear. “I knew it was going to be close. I didn’t see the radar till it was on us. I didn’t realize we’d get slammed so soon. We’ll have to ride it out. Take the wheel for me,” she yelled to Geri, standing nearby, trying to be heard over the rough conditions. “I’ve got to go below.” “Got it, go,” Geri yelled.

Allison was frantic below trying to reach someone on the radio. “Any luck?” Gail asked. “No, just static but I did get this in,” Allison said, handing Gail a faxed update on the storm. “Looks like if we can hang on it will go by in an hour or two,” Gail commented. “Yeah, if this tub holds together,” Allison replied. “We’re being pushed northwest. I don’t want to fight it. We already lost two sails. Where will we be if we go along with the storm for another two hours?” Gail asked. Allison began plotting the course given current speed and direction. “It’s going to take us 200 miles off course to the northwest. We’ll lose a day,” she concluded. “That’s OK, at this point we need to be as safe as we can be,” Gail said, as she went over to Sue and Randi, who were being tended by Liz. “How are they doing?” Gail asked privately. “I think Randi has a couple of broken ribs and Sue has a broken arm. All I can do is splint the arm and wrap Randi’s ribs,” she advised. “What do you have for the pain?” Gail inquired. “Tylenol and codeine and some Vicodin, that’s about it,” she answered. “We’re still two weeks out, should we call for help?” Gail asked. “I’ll know better tomorrow. Let’s wait and see,” Liz replied. “We’re all square on deck,” Merritt came down to report. “I think we’ll be OK if we don’t fight this bitch of a storm.” “We’re not,” Gail replied “We’ll ride it northwest for a while, then break away as it turns westerly.”

“Great, how’s Sue and Randi?” she asked. Merritt’s concern was sincere as was Allison’s. ‘This is encouraging as this is what a team is supposed to do,’ Gail thought, in a brief reflective moment. It took a near disaster to pull everyone together. For two and a half hours the seas pounded the Women’s Challenge. Twenty-foothigh waves lifted her swiftly and effortlessly, then slammed her to the bottom of the next wave. How and if the boat could survive this kind of pounding would have been the crew’s main concern if they all hadn’t felt they were going to freeze to death first. Sea spray iced up goggles and froze faces and any other exposed parts. Layers of wet clothing did little to help protect bodies and minds. The crew, now on hour to hour shifts on deck, was not amply compensated by time below deck as extreme motion, cold and dampness was the best rest time could offer. Gail spent her hour below looking over this bleak scene. Injuries, fear, unrelenting seas, and cold led her to conclude, ‘I’m calling it quits as soon as we get to Fremantle.’ “ComSat is now out. I’m not getting any signal, not even static,” Allison said, breaking Gail’s spell. “The antenna’s probably down. I’ll check.” “There is not much we can do about it now,” Gail replied, as Allison went part way up to the deck to yell to Merritt to look up the mast for any sign of the antenna. During the moment of alone time, Gail drifted to sunny Auckland where she and Bryan shared their country cottage. She followed her thoughts to London where she planned to meet Bryan during the month long layover in Fremantle. She thought how good it would be to get away from the Whitbread permanently. ‘The Cup is so much easier,’ she thought. ‘They don’t even sail in bad weather.’ Two days earlier she faxed the UA3 management team to inquire if plans were going forward for the all women’s team. She hadn’t heard back. “It’s down and lost at sea,” Allison reported, bringing Gail back to the reality of their current situation. Allison began foraging through the cabinet below the SatCom unit. She shuffled stuff around until she came up with their only spare antenna.

“I knew this would come in handy,” she said, with exaggerated joy in her voice intended to perk Gail up. “We need to wait,” Gail responded, noticing Allison’s unusually good demeanor. “Yeah, not even Merritt would go up the mast in this,” she laughed. It was the first time Gail had heard her laugh. The next hour brought more of the same. The Southern Ocean was kicking their ass and living up to it’s reputation for being a massive unforgiving beast that would swallow you up in a heartbeat the minute you didn’t respect her. Mercifully, the winds began to shift slowly to the west. Gail ordered some maneuvers that brought the Women’s Challenge around. For a short period, they tacked until the edge of the monster low broke its grip on them. They were free and back on course. Breaks in the clouds could be seen to their east, heading towards Fremantle again. The first ray of sun in days crossed their weary faces bringing cheers, joy, tears, and laughter from the team. December 9th saw the first Whitbread 60 to cross the finish line in Fremantle. It was the Intrum Justitia representing Europe. She made it in record time, probably due to their ability to ride the low pressure system that nearly destroyed the Women’s Challenge. Positions came flying in now that the new antenna was in place. Five more racers crossed the finish line that day while the Women’s Challenge was still 4 days out. ‘If only the winds would pick up just a little,’ Gail thought prayerfully. It was just after midnight, December 13th when the Challenge crossed the finish line in 7th place out of 10 in their class. Other boats that finished behind them had encountered crippling damage or, in the case of the Winston skippered by America’s own Devon Cahill and Il Poste, lost time due their rescue heroics saving the crew of the ill fated Brooksfield. Winning this leg was a great feat but surviving was even better. “I’ve thought about quitting this race.” Gail confided in Geri as they stood together at the helm quietly steering into the harbor. “Yeah, me too,” Geri replied. “Although in the end we all seemed to come together like a real team.”

“I noticed,” Gail replied. “That had to happen, but I’m worried more about this tub. If the new sponsor doesn’t step up and do every thing that needs doing, I’m backing out,” Gail said, with some finality. As the Women’s Challenge approached the harbor, Gail and Geri began to realize there was some commotion going on towards the dock. Noise, lights, and bodies silhouetted against the grayish background caught their attention. “Get everyone up here they got to see this,” Gail said, as she peered strenuously into the distance. The entire crew was now watching and wondering what was going on. “I’ll be damned,” Gail exclaimed, as she had first look through the scope at the dock area. “There’s a welcoming party on the dock with a big Heineken banner reading ‘Great Job Women’s Team.’ Gail felt mixed emotions as she ed the binoculars to Geri. “Now would be a good time to tell everyone Heineken is our new sponsor,” Gail announced a bit awkwardly to the assembled crew. A few comments came out but everyone was too tired to be upset by the timing of the late breaking news. Besides they were trying to get into party mode. “Nice that the guys felt compelled to come out in the middle of the night to welcome us in, but were they bribed with free beer to show up,” Gail added. “It’s going to be a party,” Geri sang, ing on the binoculars as the mayhem began to brew onboard. The dock was now in full view, and the men where loud and happy but not paying much attention to the Women’s Challenge making its way to the dock. A loud speaker announcement pointing out their arrival made only a little difference as the teams were wrapped up in trading sail stories exaggerated by the free flowing Heineken. As it turned out the party was more of a Heineken hype thing than anything else. The women’s team came ashore exhausted, not to mention unwashed, but somehow managed to put a smile on their faces and ed in. So, for an hour or so stories were told, laughs filled the Heineken tent, there were hugs and kisses, some promises made and oh, plenty of Heineken beer.

“Can’t tell you how happy we are you made it through this leg with all you had going against you,” a voice came up from Gail’s port side. “Howard Gibbons,” he said, reaching out to shake Gail’s hand. “But you can call me HG. I’m your new shore agent from Heineken.” His manner and aura was very English, proper country gentleman English. “Very pleased to meet you, Howard, ah, HG,” Gail replied, wiping her hand on her parka before shaking his hand. “This is Geri and Mikki, my crewmates. We need to talk,” she blurted out, trying as hard as she could to contain her frustration, leaving Geri and Mikki only to nod hello. No, HG was not the enemy. Gail didn’t know exactly who the enemy was, probably herself for getting involved in this mess to begin with, but she had to be angry with someone and it didn’t seem fair for it to be with herself. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about, but I first want to assure you we know from your communications with David Glenn that this has been a difficult leg for you and your crew and certainly the Women’s Challenge. We are prepared to do all that is needed to make this the most well equipped and safe ride in the Whitbread.” The preemptive nature of what HG was telling Gail certainly helped to diffuse her anger and frustration. Geri and Mikki’s reaction was more like they had just won the Miss America Pageant. “I have a list,” is all Gail could muster in her exhaustion and skepticism. She ed the list on to HG. The girls stopped whooping and waited for a reaction. HG studied the formidable list briefly and said, “We’ll get started straight away.” He was briefly interrupted by more whooping and cheering that caught the attention of other crew nearby. “We already have the sails, a Heineken spinnaker, a new main and jibs. Of course, the boat will be renamed the Heineken. The rest will be accomplished before you set sail for Auckland,” he concluded to a small gathering of crew. “Gail, I’d like to spend some time with you to discuss our promotional tour. Can we meet tomorrow for about an hour, say around three o’clock?” he inquired.

“Three will be fine since I’m sleeping in tomorrow,” she asserted. They shook hands again, and HG went about making sure everyone had all the Heineken they wanted. “Promotional tour,” Geri teased, as the crew ed in. “Whatever,” Gail replied, making little of it. “David mentioned something about it in one of his faxes. Our sponsor wants to do some fundraising for the newly christened Heineken,” she said, with just a little bit of a slur. The crew didn’t realize it yet, but the perils of the women’s team was a great story many were following, at least in Europe. Fundraising would prove to be easy. As the party wound down, representatives from Heineken gathered the team to escort them to their hotel. Several limos were waiting and what happened next is still being talked about. The women were taken to the most lavish hotel in Fremantle and put up in the most expensive suites. They were handed prearranged schedules for hot tub soaks, steam baths, mani / pedis, massages, hair styling, and a champagne luncheon to be held in their honor. Retailers came in from the city with racks of clothing and gear for their choosing. Heineken also had everyone covered with logo gear and clothing. Room service, drinks, food, anything they wanted was at their finger tips. This team was staying together if Heineken had any say in it. After a great night’s sleep and a day of pampering, it was amazing to see how one’s attitude could change. No more carry-ons and carry-overs. There was one team: the women’s team.

HG called on Gail in her suite at 3:00 pm sharp, anxious to get started. “Good day, Gail. I trust you have been enjoying the accommodations?” he asked. Without warning Gail reached out and gave him a big hug. “Well, I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, a bit flustered. “Thank you so much for everything,” Gail said, smiling broadly.

“Not at all,” he replied. “After all you have been through, well, let’s not revisit those memories. I’m here to make sure all of your future memories are good ones. I went over the list in some detail, and I want to emphasize there is nothing on it that poses a problem. It will all be tended to before you set sail to Auckland in leg three,” he said reassuringly. “But let’s talk for a moment about the promotional tour. I know you are heading to London soon to meet your fiancée is it,?” he said in a questioning voice. “Close enough,” Gail responded, as HG went on about some details of meetings and travel leaving her mind to wander for a moment back to London, where she would see Bryan for the first time in over two months. ‘How did we let this happen?’ she thought ‘How did time get away from us? I want to be with him so much and yet we both let this sailing thing tear us apart.’ “And then on to the U.S.,” HG said, snapping Gail back to the present. “Wait, no what? I’m going to the U.S.?” she asked, all excited and now very much paying attention. “Why, yes though it will only be for 10 days. We have a group of sponsors very interested in the female aspect of the Whitbread. You really are getting a lot of coverage in Europe and America. More so than I dare say Devon Cahill got until he did that rescue thing with the Brooksfield,” HG quipped. “Where in the U.S. will we be travelling?” Gail asked. “We have a meeting in Washington, DC. We are trying to arrange it so that Hillary Clinton can meet you. She has made some public comment about the courage of the women’s team. It made for great press,” HG commented. “That would be wonderful,” Gail reflected. “As for the next few weeks, we have arranged transportation to England on the 15th. We only need you sparingly during your visit, but it is important that you meet with your new sponsor and some of our other while you are there. I’ll have a schedule for you before you leave. Any questions?” he asked. “I will be able to have some input on the repairs and rehab going on over the next few days, correct?” she asked.

“Why, of course. We wouldn’t expect anything less,” HG answered. The next few days flew by for Gail with the anticipation of meeting up with Bryan and the flurry of activity that was taking place onboard the newly christened Heineken.

Heathrow Airport London, England

Gail exited her flight and flew right into Bryan’s outstretched arms. This moment was long in coming. They began faxing each other while Gail was in the Southern Ocean trying to come up with a plan for when their schedules might intersect. Bryan’s own worldwide odyssey was to begin just after Christmas while Gail would have a short break between Fremantle and Auckland. It would have been great to meet in Auckland, but alas the ENZA, Bryan’s vessel, would not be making that stop. This part of the world was dear to them. Bryan was from New Zealand, where they planned to spend a lot of time together. Christmas in England was good option, however, and anywhere together was better than being apart. “I missed you so much,” Gail managed to say through her tears. “I can’t say how much I missed you,” Bryan replied. They were very much in love with each other… and sailing. Their biggest problem was reconciling the two. The next several days were spent getting reacquainted, having quality alone time, a few dinners out, and a bit of Christmas shopping. They avoided any talk of sailing, although they both knew their dates of departure were looming: Bryan venturing around the world and Gail back to the Southern Ocean. For now this would be their time and Bryan planned on making it very special. They sat secluded in a restaurant Gail felt they could not afford. “Gail, you know how much I love you.” He gazed fondly into her expectant eyes. “I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. No leaving to go on these crazy sail adventures. When I get back from the ENZA trip, we start,” he said, building so much anticipation in Gail she almost jumped across the table. “Gail,

will you marry me?” he asked, producing the diamond Gail always wished for. She threw her arms around his neck, weeping profusely, crying, “I will, I will.” It was Christmas Eve and she could think of no better gift. They finished their dinner and drank copious amounts of champagne in celebration of their engagement. She hadn’t felt this close to Bryan in a long while as oceans separated them for such long periods of time. Gail made her way to the restroom, when the thought occurred to her that in three days she would be off again. She pushed the thought out of her mind. But then she thought: ‘Oh no!’ For a brief instant the America’s Cup popped up in her mind. ‘Bryan would be back from the ENZA trip, but I will be heading for the Cup. Won’t this ever end? I won’t think about it now.’

CHAPTER 6

BACK ON TRACK

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“So here it is December and you were trying to get this project back on track. How much time did you loose?” I asked. “Let’s see, I personally shut down just after Gil and I parted ways at the end of September ’93. I’d say two and a half months,” Dan concluded. “But the team kept at it in a ive way. I mean they didn’t pull the plug all the way, they didn’t tell San Diego we weren’t coming or sponsors it was over. They just prolonged the end until it was a definite no-go which I hadn’t given,” Dan replied. “So deep in your heart somewhere you knew the women’s team was bigger than your feelings being hurt,” I summarized, realizing my question was a little insulting, but it was already out there. “Well, yeah, I guess you could say that,” Dan replied, with a touch of hurt in his voice. “What part did Vince Meyers play in your plan to get back on track?” I asked quickly to change the subject. “Without Vince I doubt I would have gone on with the project,” Dan said reflectively. “You and Vince have some history, don’t you?” I queried. “Yes, Vince was Chief Operating Officer for the ’92 Cup campaign. He did it all, from design and construction to coaching and shore operations. He was

invaluable for our run at the Cup in ’92. He was the only one who could pull this project together in the timeframe we needed,” Dan replied enthusiastically, now back on track with our interview. “When did he first meet the management team and how was he received?” I asked. “We have to go to San Diego to pick up that part of the story,” Dan reflected.

North Harbor Compound San Diego, California January 4, 1994

Vince Meyers was not what you would call muscular but he was very fit and well toned. His daily workout routine was part of an ordered and disciplined lifestyle that helped him achieve every goal he ever set. He was perfect for taking on the UA3 Executive Director position. Vince began his address to the UA3 Management team gathered for the first time at the San Diego compound. First I want to say thank you for the welcome you extended to me and my family.” “I also want to say great job to everyone for getting us to this point. Rick sent me a complete update and history of the project, and I must say you have all been up against some difficult and challenging conditions. Peter, the compound is looking great for the little amount of time you have had to prepare it. Can we meet later today to go over some of the details?” he asked. “Sure, Vince,” Peter nodded, full of confidence from the progress he had made. The San Diego compound was a perfect setting for the UA3 Management Team. It provided private office space for all team , rest areas, docks for the yachts, dry dock for maintenance, and a work shop. In addition, work was underway on a prefab living facility, and plans were in place for a double wide to be used as a fully equipped training and workout facility, and a mess tent

complete with kitchen. The add-ons, of course, were coded as temporary buildings to gain city approval along with the influence of the San Diego Yacht Club to keep the process moving along. “Kirby, excellent job getting the word out. I see the response has been somewhat overwhelming, however, with the core team identified, I think we can go forward with a media event for the women’s team.” Kirby nodded and smiled. Vince continued. “Brad, it’s great to see the interest building with some very nice potential sponsors. There are some timing points I want to discuss with you when you get a chance. Vince took a breath. Now it was time to test this team’s spirit and commitment. The next four to six months would consume them and would either drive them apart or pull them closer than they ever imagined as they reached for their ultimate goal. “We have an enormous task ahead of us. I think you all realize this. What makes it challenging is the short amount of time we have to develop an all women’s team capable of winning the America’s Cup,” Vince said, not realizing that he had just struck a nerve in more than one of the management team present. It was a long time since anyone said “win the Cup” with some amount of conviction. Only Dan had this as foremost in his mind. Yes, they all wanted the first all women’s team to be competitive racing for the Cup, and yes, they had already entered the trials. But no one had really thought past that point except Vince, just now. This is what Vince brought to the table. He was always raising the bar and pushing harder when needed. Now, the main goal had been reinforced. “It had been mentioned to me that having a timeline with target dates is a good way to drive action and create focus. I want to accomplish this today,” he said, as he flashed a timeline on the board that created a little bit of a buzz around the room. “We will discuss each target one at a time from first to last. I want your thoughts, ideas, and concerns. Let’s look at the first major objective. The media event and roll out of our project needs to happen the first week of March in my view. Comments?” he asked, opening the floor.

Three of the team began at once with none in agreement that they could meet the media objective just announced. Vince was expecting this reaction. Once you put a time stamp on something it rearranges everything you need to do and causes chaos in your mind which flows out your mouth. “Please gentlemen, one at a time,” Vince spoke in a calm and reassuring way. “Kirby, you first.” “Vince, I have identified this core team but not one has confirmed their willingness to participate yet. Hell, one is still out there somewhere battling the Southern Ocean. It’s a real commitment for most of these women to drop everything in their lives to do this. It may take some doing to get them to commit is all I’m saying. We may have to drop the core team to three or four maybe. Then we need time to prep them for the media. We need to work out their story to make sure there are no holes or land mines. I guess we can pull it all together but I need to take it up a notch or two,” Kirby concluded, still not convinced he could make the timeline work. “Let’s get together after the meeting. Getting the core team in place is a major part of the overall strategy. I want to help in any way I can,” Vince offered, knowing in his heart they could pull it together in time. “Brad, what are your concerns?” he asked. “I’ve been thinking about where and how we should roll this project out. We need to make a big splash. We want to be on the six o’clock news, both local and national. I was thinking about towing one of our boats down Broadway in New York City and holding a press conference at the Helmsley.” Brad concluded, a bit hesitant, wondering if this was a little over the top. “I love it, what a great, great idea,” Vince replied, without hesitation. “Well, I haven’t run this by anyone yet. I’m thinking we are going to need to get some approvals, and you know government just doesn’t work that fast and may not be agreeable to the whole idea,” Brad interjected. “In my experience, Brad, it’s easier to get forgiveness than permission. All you need to do is reserve the hotel’s ballroom and alert the media we’ll be making an announcement. The yacht down Broadway will insure that we are covered by the national media and our sponsors will love it. Just a great idea,” he reiterated, as everyone smiled.

“Rick, you need to ensure the city doesn’t impound the boat,” he said whimsically. “OK, given the first target and timeframe, please email me your to do list and needs to make it happen. Moving on, the next target is beginning tryouts. We need to start by mid-April or sooner. Peter this means the compound needs to be up and fully operational and able to accommodate up to 60 prospects for 5 day sessions. My plan is to have each group arrive on a Friday, begin tryouts on Saturday, end on Wednesday, turn the facility around on Thursday, while we debrief and begin all over with the next group on Friday. Comments?” “Doable,” Kirby piped in immediately. “I’ve been working on promoting tryouts for the team on and off now for the last two months. We have about 350 interested parties. I’m sure that will double after our New York City roll out. Then it’s just a matter of scheduling and commitment by the prospects. Training and tryout routines are already developed and ready to go.” “See, this is easier than you thought it was going to be. What about you Peter, any road blocks?” Vince asked. “None that I can see as long as Dan keeps writing the checks,” Peter replied. They all laughed. “Peter, let’s get all of the boats out of storage and brought to the compound. We can assess their condition and start whatever we need to do to make them sea worthy.” “Got it,” Peter replied. “Oh, what about New York City? What do say we prep one of the boats for the trip there and bring the others here? I believe the Defender in Nevada is in the best shape.” “Good point. Defender is a good choice given its history in the Cup,” Vince concluded. “OK, we have our work cut out for us. My calendar is posted online and updated daily. I want to meet with sponsors, core team , and any media interested in carrying our story. I want to see all of your updates and progress notes. Keep me posted on anything that may impact our timeline. Brad, nail down the Helmsley as soon as possible. Thank you,” he said, concluding an energizing and uplifting meeting. Vince’s management style was perfect for this team of self-motivated overachievers. Like a skipper at the helm, he would steer this ship as the crew

navigated through the choppy waters ahead of them. “Kirby, can you give me about a half hour to update Dan, and then I want to sit down with you to go over the core team,” Vince said. “Sure, I’ll pull their files together and be there in thirty,” Kirby replied. Vince walked away to his office thinking, ‘What a great start. What a team to work with, this is going to be fun.’ The update went well. Dan was very pleased and a little relieved. He had a few reservations about the initial meeting with a new executive director armed with a timeline. The team took it all in their stride as Vince upped the bar. “I’ve got the files ready,” Kirby said, popping his head in the door of Vince’s office. “Great, come on in,” Vince replied. “Vince, before we get started I just want to say we all couldn’t be more pleased that you came onboard with this project. I know what a change in leadership can do to an organization, but we all have the same goals now and will you in any way we can to achieve them,” Kirby said with sincerity. “Thank you, Kirby. I just got off the phone with Dan and he was delighted to know we all came together quickly as a unified management team. So, what do we have for a core team?” he asked. “I ed fifteen women so far, four of which declined, three will get back to me, six are yet to reply, and one I haven’t been able to reach as she is sailing in the Whitbread. But you know she should be in Fremantle by now. I’ll try her later today, but I’m pretty sure she is going to want in.” “You’re talking about Gail Adley?” Vince asked. “Yes.” “She sailed with Dan in ’92, right?” “Yes, she has great experience and will be a valuable asset to the team.”

“How do we reach her?” Vince asked. “Well, I had some luck faxing her onboard the Women’s Challenge, but we should try SatCom. If she is onboard for any reason we can talk directly with her.” “OK, dial her up,” Vince said, pushing the phone to Kirby who began dialing the fifteen digit SatCom number. “It’s ringing,” he said, after a moment. “Put her on speaker,” Vince requested. After the sixth ring someone answered. “Hello, this is Howard. A kind English voice came over very clear. “Howard, this is Kirby Wells calling from the U.S. Is Gail Adley available by any chance,” he asked. “Yes, she is on deck. If you hold a moment, I will fetch her,” Howard replied. “Certainly,” Kirby answered. “You have to love the English, fetch her, really,” Kirby said. It only took a minute before an out of breath and seemingly excited Gail got on the phone. “Hello, Kirby, this is Gail. How are you?” she exclaimed. “I am fine, Gail, but the real question is how are you doing?” “Well, we survived the Southern Ocean, so I guess that should count for something.” “Great to hear. Well, Gail, I am here with our new Executive Director, Vince Meyers. We are on speaker,” he added. “Hi, Gail,” Vince piped in. “Hi, Vince,” she said. “I think we met during the ’92 Cup run,” she mentioned.

“Yes we did. It’s good to hear your surviving the Whitbread,” he said. “Just barely so far, but we have a really great sponsor now, Heineken. The boat’s getting a complete refit, and we should be very competitive the next leg,” she summarized. “Good luck, I’m sure you will do well. The reason we called is to ask you to our women’s team, the first to sail in the America’s Cup.” He barely finished before Gail blurted out her reply. “I would love to the team. I tried to keep up with the news but for a while there was nothing going on. Is it really going to happen?” she asked. “Yes it is,” Vince confirmed. “We are putting our core team together now, and we will be rolling out our plan at a press conference in New York City in early March. We’ll introduce the core team to put a face on the project, but we will be holding tryouts in San Diego over the next several months until we have our team picked,” Vince informed her. “Sounds great but I don’t think I can be in New York in March,” she said, a little concerned. “Oh no, we don’t expect you to. We just wanted to know if we could count on you to us as skipper of the team,” Vince said, surprising even Kirby. “Skipper! I’m honored. Sure I will. I will be in San Diego right after the Whitbread, you can count on it,” Gail replied, very excited now. “Wonderful, well good luck with the Whitbread. We’ll keep you posted on our progress as best we can,” Kirby added. “Thank you. You made my day, hell, you made my year,” she ended. “Good-bye,” Vince concluded the call. “Skipper?” Kirby immediately asked. “I needed to give her a goal, something to look forward to as she heads back into the Southern Ocean. It has a way of making you want to give up sailing

altogether,” Vince replied. “So, who else are we considering?” Vince asked, very upbeat after their conversation with Gail. “We should call Jennifer Islin. She lives about a half hour from here, so being at training and away from home should not pose a big problem,” Kirby concluded. “A half hour away, what could cause a problem?” Vince inquired. “She has a newborn at home but what I have been able to learn is that her parents are staying with them to help with the baby. They may be able to extend their child care services.” Vince was looking over her file as Kirby spoke. “She’s a bit on the smallish side, don’t you think?” Vince inquired. “She’s huge in heart and ability, and it doesn’t hurt that her husband was a navigator in Cahill’s 88 Cup run,” Kirby defended. “OK then, let’s give her a call,” Vince confirmed his approval. After a few rings a cheery voice greeted them. “Hello.” “Hello, is this Jennifer?” Kirby asked. “Yes, I’m Jennifer, who is calling please?” she politely inquired. “Jennifer, this is Kirby Wells from United America racing…” Before he could complete his intro Jennifer cut in. “I know you, Kirby and all about UA3. How’s Dan and everyone over there?” she inquired enthusiastically. “We’re all fine here. I’m sitting here with Vince Meyers, Executive Director of UA3,” Kirby managed to complete his sentence. “Hi, Jennifer,” Vince said warmly. “Hi, Vince, you guys can call me CJ ,” she replied, still very upbeat thus

convincing them this is really the way she was. “The reason we are calling is to ask you if you would be interested in being part of our latest project, namely an all women’s team to compete in the America’s Cup?” Kirby asked, with some amount of anticipation followed by an extended pause. “CJ,” Vince called out, sensing she was overloaded with a myriad of thoughts. “Yes, I’m still here, wow, this would be historic in scope,” she said, a bit awestruck. “Yes, it would. That’s the driving force behind the project,” Vince responded affirmatively. “Listen, we know you have a newborn at home, but we wondered if being so close to the training center would make a difference. You could be home early most nights,” Vince added, as assuring as he could manage over the phone. “Really?” CJ asked, a bit surprised. She knew competitive sailing could control your life and separate you from everything you love and care about. “How so?” she asked. “Well the plan is to roll out the project with our core team in place to the media in New York City by early March. After that all training and sailing would be done here in San Diego. There may be some night strategy planning meetings that run late, but most nights you can be home for dinner. We were wondering if you have a child care option that works with this kind of schedule?” Vince asked. “I think I do, but I need to check on a few things. Can I get back to you?” she asked imploringly. “Sure, we understand. Can we expect a call back say tomorrow? That would be real helpful,” Vince said with a touch of urgency. “Oh, for sure. Don’t get me wrong. I’m really very interested. This is an opportunity of a lifetime for me. I’ll do all I can to work things out,” CJ said convincingly.

“Great. We look forward to your call.” Vince ended on a positive note. “I think she’ll work it out,” Kirby said. “She’ll be a valuable addition to the team. She’s a great tactician and navigator with great visibility in sailing. And did I mention her husband is now an ESPN sports reporter? That could really benefit our promotional efforts.” “All good to know,” Vince added. “Well, I believe that’s 2 for 2. Who’s next?” he said full of anticipation. And on it went for the rest of the day. Vince and Kirby connected with all 15 potential core team applying the right amount of urgency, historical significance, and pleading when needed to come up with 5 confirmed and 5 tentative but likely . By the end of business the following day, a 9member core team was in place. In addition to Gail their skipper, the core team they would roll out to the public would consist of: Jennifer “CJ” Islin, a San Diego native, CJ was a world class sailor with international race experience, world titles, and recognition. She was a bronze Olympic medal winner in the 1992 women’s 470 class event in Barcelona. At 5’9” and 125 pounds, she would be one of the smaller team though huge in heart and ability. Linda Lamount, like CJ, had significant boat race experience. She was part of an all women’s team competing in the Newport/Bermuda Regatta. She was also aboard numerous other cup races around the U.S. and like most other core team she had an advanced degree and participated in sailing at the college level. A sturdy 5’8” 148 pounds, Linda would prove to be a strong competitor. An unexpected bonus was Linda’s experience as a marketing director in the sailing industry. Vince and Kirby wasted no time letting Brad know of her skills and willingness to help with the monumental task of getting the word out about the women’s team. Stephanie Morrow was another crew member with Olympic experience. Paired with Anna Shelton in a 1992 Olympics rowing competition, they won a bronze medal. Stephanie was among the tallest of the crew at 5’11’ and weighing in at 170 pounds. She graduated from Cornell University and was working in the hospitality business when she got the call.

Anna Shelton was one of the most talented crew from a rowing perspective. In addition to the medal she won with Stephanie in the 1992 Olympics, she won 14 national championships and four world silver medals during her nine-year rowing career. She was named Female Athlete of the Year in 1990 by the U.S. Rowing Association. She earned her bachelor’s degree from Harvard University and a Master in Journalism from Columbia University. Alison James, Betsy Linder, Lynne Jamison, and Allison Turcott were late call backs and all great additions to the core team having years of experience in big boat racing with the requisite size and strength. Kirby had some concerns that their personal life circumstances at some point could prove to be a distraction. Two had young children and limited ability to cover full-time child care, and one had job related limitations. “At least they’ll make a great impression at media day in New York,” Kirby remarked with some sense of satisfaction in their choices. “That’s it then. We need to come up with a date at the Helmsley and a couple of dates to prep our crew prior to news day,” Vince remarked to Kirby, more as a directive. “I’ll get working on it,” Kirby replied. “Do you want to update everyone at tomorrow’s meeting? They’ll be thrilled to know the core team is in place.” “Why don’t you do the honor of making the announcement? You did a great job putting this all together,” Vince offered, in much the style that made him a sought after executive director.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“So, Vince comes in and in the first two days and makes a giant leap forward with the core

team,” I commented to Dan. “Vince is a doer, that’s why he’s my executive director,” Dan replied. “But to be fair, a lot of the ground work was in place before he came on board. The team only needed a push in the right direction to regain their confidence and enthusiasm for the project.” “As I recall the media roll out took place at the Plaza, not the Helmsley,” I pointed out looking for clarification. “Correct. Leona apparently took exception to something I said publicly about how good business people should pay their taxes. I didn’t know she would hold a grudge that long. So, when she started playing hard ball with us we went over to the Plaza. They were very accommodating and eager to be a part of the project,” Dan explained. “Was the core team all you wanted it to be?” I asked. “Yes, for the most part. We prepped the team, told them what to expect, and how to avoid land mines from the media. I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page. I wanted the story to be all about the first ever women’s team to compete in the Cup so we had to look like a team, sound like a team, and in fact be a team,” Dan emphasized. “What was your biggest fear about the women’s team?” I asked, hoping to gain greater insight into the barriers the management and the team faced early on. “We all had some reservations about pulling the team together. We weren’t sure how time commitment, family, jobs, conditioning, and experience were going to play out. It wasn’t until we began meetings with the core team that our concerns became hard realities. But I’ve got to give the women a lot of credit. They made the hard choices, made the necessary arrangements, and put their lives on hold to be a part of this historic event.” “Take me back to those initial meetings leading up to media day,” I said, giving Dan the opportunity to revisit some of his fondest memories. “Well, Vince kept me in the loop and fully informed of what was going on. I was

very busy with an acquisition for Enersys. I didn’t plan a visit to San Diego until the core team was present and briefed. We felt it would be important for me to meet them before I introduced them in New York. I was still the face of the project for promotional reasons, even though our management team was in charge of making it happen.” Dan was careful to give credit where credit was due. “We had the core team identified and needed to get them to San Diego, all except Gail who would be in the Southern Ocean again sailing against Devon Cahill. Did you know that?” he asked incidentally. “No, I didn’t know that. What was he doing in such a death defying event,” I asked, puzzled by the contrast in his boating persona. “I am not sure. Looking for greater challenges I guess, but the Whitbread was a lot more than he anticipated. Anyway, Vince had the core team coming to town and then on to the Big Apple.”

CHAPTER 7

SAILING THE HEINEKEN

Whitbread Fremantle, Australia January 15, 1994

Gail left Bryan, London, Heineken Management and the British press on Jan 3rd 1994. She was headed back to Fremantle to the preparations for the next leg of Whitbread. Bryan was on day to day standby waiting for the weather to improve before ENZA set out on its journey around the world. London had been fabulous for Gail. She had a hard time leaving and wondered if she could get her head back in the game. The next leg to Auckland would be the best leg of the event for many reasons. She would have a new boat, and the team would have a great attitude since now everyone felt like rock stars. She had informed the crew of her media events in London. They had no idea how famous they had become. This kind of sailing to them was normal. But thanks to a little embellishment at the right time, Heineken marketing staff managed to create a sense of 12 damsels in distress. The world was watching out for their little darlings now. It didn’t hurt that many felt it was the men against the women kind of a thing, but in reality the sailors felt it was a race against time and survival at sea. The relatively safe, short jaunt from Fremantle to Auckland would give her some time to adjust to the harsh reality of sailing back through the Southern Ocean in their return to Punta del Este during the fourth leg of the Whitbread. “Welcome back.” HG jauntily greeted Gail as she arrived at her hotel. “How was your trip?” he asked. “I can’t tell how much I hate being back here,” she replied, in a tone that immediately put HG at ease.

“That good,” he said, then noticing the ring on her finger. “Is that…” he started to blurt out when Gail chirped in. “Yes it is,” she happily replied, waving the beaming diamond in front of his face. “Well, congratulations. No wonder you hate being back,” HG surmised. “How are things going here?” Gail asked, changing the subject to what had been most on her mind since leaving Bryan. “Swimmingly,” HG said, with so much enthusiasm, Gail felt an immediate sense of relief. Until then, she hadn’t realized that she had been subconsciously stressing about the condition of the Heineken. Or was it the crew? Well, it didn’t matter because she felt great, and Auckland was on the horizon and all of the media love and attention just seemed to lift a girl’s spirits. “We have nearly completed a total refit including new sails and of course a new paint job with Heineken colors,” HG proudly offered. “You’ll see it today. I have arranged for the entire crew to be onboard this afternoon for a bit of a reunion.” This was good news for Gail. She was anxious to see everyone again, a feeling she thought she would never have. After checking in and changing into more appropriate boat attire which naturally included Heineken green and white colors, she and HG headed out to the pier. Eight of the twelve crew were there when Gail arrived. They greeted each other with happy hellos, high fives, and yes, hugs. Catching up was fun but the most fun for Gail was showing off her ring. Everyone was on a high and feeling more connected than ever before. The Heineken looked great in green and white. There was still a lot to do but it was a lot different than Punta. They had almost two weeks till race day, they had a professional shore crew doing the heavy lifting, and an onboard crew fully motivated and working very well together. ‘What could possibly go wrong?’ she thought surveying the scene. ‘ What are you thinking, shit will happen,’ Gail concluded. A note arrived from Bryan on January 16th. It read:

‘We’ll be sailing today. Favorable winds and somewhat settled weather. Love you, Bryan.’ A cryptic note for sure but such was the case with SatCom faxes. “By tomorrow we’ll both be back at sea.” Gail softly spoke her reply back to Bryan and thought for a moment of the lives they had chosen and the distance between them.

Fremantle, Australia January 17, 1994

Race day finally arrived. It wasn’t long before the crowds were roaring as the ships maneuvered about the starting area. An armada of small craft buzzed about the sleek sailing ships of the Whitbread in a customary but frenzied fashion. The Heineken Spinnaker was full out. The starter blasted the cannon to signal the race had begun. The Heineken hit the starting line just seconds prior but opted to take a 10 minute penalty rather than circle back through the chaos to restart. Then it was off to sea and the chaos and crowds again began to fade away. A not so strange sense of loneliness with a touch of apprehension could be seen in the stares of the crew glancing back towards port fading in the distance. The numerous Whitbread crews came into focus, seeking out their own paths. The congeniality had gone, and the sea and competition were back. It was cloudy and cold as they left Fremantle. It would get worse.

Only five days out and high seas, icy winds, and freezing rain pounded their spirits. “What the hell,” Gail yelled, at no one in particular. ‘This was supposed to be the nice part of the race,’ she thought. As races go this was a nice part of the competition for Heineken. They set a 24hour speed record, and found themselves in fourth place midway to Auckland. This was the shortest leg of the Whitbread at 3,292 miles but it did have its challenges. The Tasmanian Sea was tricky like the Southern Ocean. Huge waves lifted the Heineken 2 to 3 stories and dropped her like a runaway elevator. Winds howled and speeds were incredibly fast pushing the Heineken to its limits at 25

to 30 knots. In the end it was a good leg for the women’s team finishing 8th out of 16. They were now only 16 hours behind the leaders and not 16 days. Nevertheless, the leaders, including New Zealand’s Endeavour, Tokio, and Intrum Justitia continued to increase their overall advantage. Heineken’s main objective now was to catch and beat Brooksfield, their closest competitor, and finish somewhere mid-pack. Heineken’s 8th place finish was greeted more like they had won the leg outright partly due to another huge party their Heineken sponsor put on for everyone at the docks in Auckland. For Gail it was like coming home again. Auckland was all she wanted it to be except for Bryan not being there. She relaxed for a few days puttering around the garden thinking of her future here with Bryan. She met with his family and their mutual friends. Some of the crew stayed with her at the cottage, but they all did their own thing. The Heineken didn’t need much in the way of repairs, only restocking for the next leg back to Punta via the Southern Ocean. One thing was on Gail’s radar, her trip to the US on a promotional tour starting in Washington, DC. She lay basking in New Zealand’s hot summer sun when it suddenly occurred to her that it was the dead of winter in Washington and all she had was sailing clothes. “Shopping,” she said out loud, anticipating her first stop in the United States.

Washington, DC January 28, 1994

The media tour was handled by a professional publicist hired by Heineken. The logistics, timing, and coordination of the events had the accuracy of a Swiss watch. Interviews were held with all the major networks, newspapers, journals, and sponsor groups. The all women’s team was a hit with the media and Gail was a home run. Gail was tall, good looking, athletic and it didn’t hurt that she was blonde. The funds kept pouring in. The promotional tour was deemed a huge success. “We are hearing Dan Cook may field the first ever all women’s team to compete in the Cup,” one reporter asked. “Since you sailed with Dan in 92 has he asked

you to the 95 Cup team?” Gail could not speculate on the women’s team. It was something that had a timing issue of its own. Gail knew there was going be a women’s team, and she was going to be its skipper. She could only say that she would love to do another Cup. It was bittersweet, however, for Gail as she thought back to the 92 campaign with UA3. She had made the team through sheer guts and determination, fighting injury and exhaustion, not to mention her strength deficit in the all male crew. In the end she secured a position working the pit where strong upper body strength was needed to jockey halyards and lines, and trim sails. Though she was onboard when United America defeated Devon Cahill and the Stars & Bars, she was taken off the crew for the finals against Il Moro di Venezia, the Italian entry that won the European trials. No one ever explained why but she always believed it was her lack of experience and strength compared to the men. This was heart wrenching for Gail. No one worked harder or wanted it more than her. She was still part of the team in a role, but it was nothing like being onboard. The riotous celebration that took place the day the UA3 won the cup left Gail feeling rather empty. Being onboard meant everything. This was what haunted her and drove her to new challenges like the Whitbread and now undermined her relationship with Bryan. She would face that challenge when it arose, if it arose.

Auckland, NZ February 20, 1994

Race day arrived once again. Never had the crew seen such a turn out as this for a send off. Over 100,000 people lined the shore with at least 1,000 small crafts of every kind circling the fleet of Whitbread sailboats. “Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Merritt asked. “Yeah, the last time I was here,” Gail replied, seemingly unimpressed but in reality quite impressed.

The helicopters and aircraft was what she hadn’t seen, at least not in quite so large numbers. She could only surmise it was the popularity of the women’s team that garnered the extra attention. The Whitbread competitors maneuvered into position anticipating the start. Gail held back a little so as not to jump the gun as they did in Fremantle. The cannon sounded, and seconds later the Heineken crossed the starting line full spinnaker blooming. Once again, the noise of crowd and craft gave way to sounds of the wind and roaring surf to accompany the sailing activity onboard. “Here we come,” Gail yelled out to the rolling seas ahead, then feared for a moment the Southern Ocean may have heard her irreverent call.

Heineken was nine days out to sea when the Southern Ocean sent out its welcome back. Snow, sleet, freezing winds, and water made everyone question why they were doing this again. “Gail,” Allison yelled. “Can you come down here a sec?” Gail turned over the helm to Randi and headed below. “What’s up?” she asked, taking off her wet garments to take advantage of the spray free quarters if only for a moment. “I’m picking up something big, very big on the radar,” she answered excitedly, pointing to the screen. A large blip appeared with each flashing . “Iceberg,” they both concluded at the same time. “It’s close for sure but I didn’t see anything in the dark. We’ll keep our current heading. Looks like we can by safely if there are no underwater connections,” Gail concluded putting her gear back on. “Geri, Merritt,” Gail called to them tying off a sheet. “Yeah, what’s up?” Geri asked. “We have a giant berg just off our starboard. I want you to keep an eye out for it. Ask Leah to help. I want to be sure we steer well clear of it. At 20 knots it would be hard to avoid if it turns up right in front of us.” Gail took the helm and steered a bit more portside. The three look outs took up positions scouring as much of

the horizon as they could see in the darkness. “There it is,” yelled Merritt. The berg rose quickly up from the horizon out of the dark frigid waters with menacing jagged edges. Gail made a quick adjustment to their course more for added safety than actual need. ‘How many more are out there that we can’t see?’ she thought. With this menace gone, what else did the Southern Ocean have in store? She had plenty of time to cook something up as it was still 2,000 miles to Cape Horn. Then it was goodbye Southern Ocean as they would turn up the east coast of South America and back to Punta del Este, Uruguay. For now they dodged an ice berg and rapidly sailed through the frigid air carried on by high winds. “So far so good,” Leah said, ing Gail at the helm. “Great, you just jinxed us,” Gail replied, only half kidding. Leah had every cause for such reflection. It was not that they were without problems the last few days. Just that the problems they encountered so far were of the non-catastrophic type. They lost a sail, dealt with an injury requiring stitches, had a mechanical breakdown of a winch, a broken steering line, trouble with the rudder and the SatCom went out which was most disturbing to Gail who was having a spirited dialogue with Bryan. Their discussions now included the Americas Cup and her intention to the women’s team. He still was refusing to move to San Diego to be with her during the Cup run. “Great, now he thinks I’m ignoring him,” she lamented. “Don’t worry. He’ll come around. After all, it’s the America’s Cup,” Randi said, trying to Gail as good friends do.

Cape Horn was only a day out. It was the next objective they set their sights on. Making the turn heading out of the Southern Ocean could be tricky. It seemed as though she wanted to kick you in the ass one more time before you left. “How do think the rudder will do around the Horn?”

Randi asked. “It’s not the Horn I’m worried about. It’s the Le Maire Strait after the turn that worries me,” Gail replied, and rightly so. Winds and surf channel through the Strait as if they were shot out of a gun. “We’ll have to get a look at the rudder soon to know what we are facing.” It was early morning on March 8th when the Heineken ed by Cape Horn. The crew stood ive, almost in awe of this rite of age that for most began a new chapter in their adventure. It now seemed as though they were headed in the general direction of home. The sea was surprisingly calm. They would take any break they could get because things were going to change in a big way.

CHAPTER 8

SAILING DOWN BROADWAY

Training Compound San Diego, CA Friday March 4, 1994

“Good morning everyone.” Vince greeted the management team seated at the conference table sipping coffee and munching on bagels and pastries. He stepped lively into the room full of his usual enthusiasm and optimism. A chorus of good mornings went back out to him. “Big day today so I want to be brief. I know you all have a lot on your plates,” Vince surmised, taking his seat at the head of the mahogany oval shaped conference table. “Kirby, how do we look for our women’s arrival?” Vince asked, wasting no time getting to his agenda. “We have three arriving this afternoon and four due in tomorrow late morning. CJ can be here any time as she lives down the street. The dorms are complete so there is no issue housing them and getting settled in,” Kirby responded confidently. “Of course Gail can’t be here as she is back in the Southern Ocean by now,” he added, to make sure the full 9 core team were ed for. “OK, let’s plan to have a meal here tonight to welcome the early arrivals, and we can plan a kick off dinner tomorrow with the full core team. We can include spouses and staff as well. I want this team to feel completely at ease with us. Peter, nice job getting the compound ready. Where do we stand with the boats?” Vince asked, pressing forward quickly much to Peter’s surprise as he was caught with a bite of pastry in his mouth. His pastry muffled attempt to answer provided a bit of levity at a moment that seemed to need it. The business of the Cup was at hand and things were getting serious.

“Sorry,” Peter offered, as he cleared remnants from his throat. “The Defender will be ready to roll tomorrow for New York. We are still readying the Corsa and the United America for the trip out here. They should be ready by the end of the week. We have our route all planned out for New York, and we should be sailing Defender down Broadway next Wednesday,” Peter happily concluded. “Great, it should be a real show. Brad, Rick, you guys still alright with our approach?” Vince asked, tongue in cheek. “I know Brad is loving it. It makes his job easy. It will put the women’s team on the map. All I need to do is keep us out of jail,” Rick commented, to tumultuous laughter. Vince knew Rick had legitimate concerns about sailing Defender down Broadway, but Vince was convinced that cash could bail them out of any trouble they faced. If that was the case, Dan had plenty of it. Besides, you couldn’t buy the kind of visibility you can get from this stunt. “Seriously, Brad.” Vince chimed in above the ongoing laughter and chatter. “Have you made with your media friends and sponsors?” Vince asked. “Yes, I have. I told my media s about the event. I would say I got a lukewarm response at best. But I am saving the Defender info for later, wouldn’t want to let on too soon for obvious reasons. Sponsors were a bit more excited but I’m sure they will be lining up once the major news outlets get the story,” Brad concluded, full of assurance. “That’s what we’re all counting on, Brad,” Vince added. “OK, let’s plan our first session with the full team for Monday morning. All hands on deck for this everyone. Input is important here, and you all have a unique perspective about the events that are about to unfold. It’s important the women’s team feels we are confident and know what we are doing. We need to give them some idea what media day may hold and how to project themselves as being confident and ready to take on this history making challenge. Come prepared, we will only have a couple of days to get them up to speed before next Wednesday’s media day. If there’s nothing else, we can adjourn.” Vince looked over the room for any hands. “Have a good one. I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.”

The management team went off about their business each well versed in what needed to be accomplished in order to field a team for a Cup race. In addition to overall project management, Vince kept busy with the design team who would build a new boat if the women’s team showed promise early on. He and Dan felt strongly that with new technology and design they could construct a racing yacht that would be hard to beat. Dan had already decided on the name Mighty Mary after his mom whose strength and family leadership was legendary. If the women’s team had a shot, Dan was committed to providing the best advantage he could and not let a slow boat be a hindrance to winning the Cup.

“Vince.” Kirby called into his office to get his attention. “CJ Islin is here. She didn’t want to interfere with any last minute preparations prior to the team arriving, but she wanted to meet you, and I thought I’d show her around a little,” Kirby offered, a little hesitant from the unexpected timing. “Wonderful,” Vince replied, in the spirit of a warm welcome he was trying to achieve. “I would love to meet her,” he said, moving toward the door. “She’s in my office,” a happier Kirby said, walking away with Vince. CJ, her husband, Peter, and their newborn, Grace, were seated around Kirby’s coffee table. Vince, a tour de force, came bounding in barely giving enough time for Peter and CJ to rise from the seats. “You must be Peter,” Vince said, extending his hand and vigorously shaking Peter’s. “CJ, how good to finally meet you.” Vince shook her hand warmly, though thinking she was not as big as he hoped she would be. ‘Oh well, a tactician doesn’t have to be that big anyway,’ he thought. “I feel I already know you from all I’ve read about you. Welcome, and thank you for ing our team. And who is this?” Vince asked, turning his attention to Grace. It wasn’t put on either. Vince was totally into kids. He had three of his own, his youngest being 8. “This is Grace,” CJ replied, full of pride for her first born. Vince made a little fuss over her, and they laughed at the big smile and baby talk Grace provided for the moment.

“Well, CJ would you and Peter like a tour? The others won’t be in until this afternoon, and then we would like to get together for a meal this evening, if you can make it,” Kirby said, trying to free up Vince from the welcoming committee. “Sure, if it won’t be a bother,” CJ offered. “No bother,” Kirby replied, as he led them on their way.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“What was media day like?” I asked, anxious to learn all I could about the project’s first encounter with the public eye. “What a day, what an event,” Dan said fondly. “We were all a little apprehensive about towing the Defender down Broadway. We didn’t check with anyone first. We couldn’t take the chance they would say no, and we really needed the visibility since sponsors were slow to commit.” “So you actually sailed Defender down Broadway. What was your route in from Nevada?” I asked. “Yes we did. Defender came in via Route 80 all the way in from Nevada. We got on 95 in New Jersey, crossed over the GWB into Manhattan North, jumped on Broadway all the way down to West 59th Street and over to the Plaza Hotel at 5th Avenue. We didn’t experience any difficulty until we got to lower Broadway. It was touch and go for a bit as I was told,” Dan recounted.

Broadway New York City, NY

The Defender, so appropriate for this journey, caught the attention of many New Yorkers as she sailed along Broadway flags flapping in the breeze. Many offered suggestions regarding what they could do with the boat that interrupted the normal flow of an already troubled NYC traffic pattern. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” one ing motorist screamed. “Really, get atta hea with dat ting!” a truck driver yelled. Reed Davis and Eric Little just smiled and waved as Rick instructed them to do. Rick wanted to keep as low a profile as possible anticipating there would be some type of encounter with law enforcement. It wasn’t all bad, though. Many onlookers from the sidewalks hooted and waved or just stared in awe. After all, even in New York City you don’t see a world class racing yacht sailing down Broadway every day. The Defender filled her lane and then some so, she had a lead and trailing wide-load escort with flashing lights which, for most of the trip, gave the impression that we probably had a permit. But as the convoy squeezed into to tighter traffic it caught the attention of two of New York City’s finest. Lights flashed, sirens sounded, and above the din of city sounds a loud speaker projected the long overdue voice of a bewildered cop. “You want to pull over at the next block in front of the Midtown Station,” the voice commanded. Reed flashed his lights and waved out the window to signal he received the message. “Do you believe this?” officer Steve O’Malley asked his partner. “Hey, it’s New York. Anything goes,” Brian, his partner, answered. “Yeah, well not on my watch,” O’Malley retorted. Defender and its escorts found the parking to be quite adequate as the off road pull up was designed to accommodate numerous buses pulling in and out of traffic. Hopefully the need to keep the area open would curtail any in-depth investigation by these officers. Reed got out of the truck hauling Defender. He was most informed of what to say and do in the event local authorities had an issue with the convoy.

“Good afternoon officers.” Reed cheerily greeted the approaching inquisitors. “Good afternoon my ass,” O’Malley offered in reply, setting the tone for their encounter. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? I called this in and there are no permits in play for a… a ... what is this anyway? Never mind. There’s no way you can do this without a permit,” O’Malley blurted out exasperated. “Hey, is this the same Defender that sailed in the 92 America’s Cup?” Brian asked, causing O’Malley to jerk his head around so fast he nearly pulled a muscle. Speechless, O’Malley stared at his partner in utter disbelief. “Yes, yes it is,” Reed quickly answered, before O’Malley got back on track. “Would you like to hop onboard and have a look around?” Reed offered, attempting to seize the only opportunity they may have to get out of this dilemma. “No, no he wouldn’t,” O’Malley answered, while his partner said, “Sure.” And before O’Malley had time cuff anyone, Reed helped an over eager Brian up to the deck. “Come on, Steve,” Brian pleaded for O’Malley to them. “Haven’t you ever followed an America’s Cup race?” “No, and I don’t have the money like you to go hob knobbing with all those suits at City Island,” Steve blasted back. As Steve and Brian continued to have their usual partner spat mostly egged on by Brian who kinda enjoyed watching Steve lose it, Reed quietly alerted Eric to Rick, UA3’s attorney, to see who he might know at the City Island Yacht Club. “Steve, come up here. You gotta see this,” Brian said again. “Where are you going?” O’Malley shouted out to Reed as he climbed onboard. “I’ve got to see your license and registration. Oh, jeeze,” O’Malley groaned, as he too climbed onboard but only to speed things up as buses were lining up behind them and honking was becoming furious. “Where are you guys headed with this anyway?” Brian asked.

“Just a few more blocks to the Plaza. They have a space for us to park it right out front,” Reed answered. “Yeah, well we may have to impound this boat till the fines are paid,” O’Malley interjected. “Well, you know there’s going to be a big media event here tomorrow. It would be a shame if the Defender was not available,” Reed replied, as they strolled the deck. “You’ve done some sailing then?” Reed asked Brian. “Yes, well, not so much me as my uncle George Kent. He is a real enthusiast and has followed Cup racing for years. I guess a little has rubbed off on me.” He ran his hand across the mast lying horizontal along the deck. “This is all very nice but we have a traffic situation building here and this boat has to move. You will follow me to the 48th Street impound yard where we will park this thing until it gets straightened out,” O’Malley said, climbing down off the deck. The others followed. Reed gave Eric a glance as he stepped down. Eric shrugged his shoulders. He had reached Rick who was working the City Island Yacht Club angle as fast as he could. “Can you give me a minute? I need to tell my drivers what to do,” Rick said. “Make it fast,” O’Malley ordered. It was a stall tactic to give Rick a chance to work his magic. Eric called Rick, who happened to know at the Yacht Club who could to help them out. It was just a matter of reaching them in time. “You shouldn’t be such a hard ass,” Brian chided Steve. ‘You shouldn’t be such a pussy,” Steve retorted. He seemed happy to take a shot at the “yacht types” as he like to refer to them when busting Brian’s chops. Moments later a call came into O’Malley’s radio.

“O’Malley here. Yes it’s…, no sir…Yes, we…, Yes sir we will…No sir, Yes, I do.” O’Malley’s conversation ended abruptly “Mr. Davis,” O’Malley began, as he handed Reed back his license and registration. “I will be escorting you and your caravan the rest of the way to the Plaza. Please fall in behind me,” O’Malley said curtly, then turning to head back to his patrol car. Brian smiled and gave Reed a thumbs up. Brian was dying to ask Steve what happened but would save it for a more opportune time as Steve simmered at the wheel.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“So you ended up with a police escort to the Plaza. What exactly happened?” I asked. “Eric had alerted Rick that one of the officers might be sympathetic to the cause and had some connection with City Island Yacht Club. Turns out Rick was very close to a few judges who were . A couple of calls later, the mayor was on the line with the officers and we were on our way. It was just the break we needed. We parked Defender in front of the Plaza in a space reserved for us. The story got around quickly, Brad made sure of that. Before we knew it local media from three stations were at the Plaza in plenty of time for the 6:00 pm news. One network news station picked up the story. It was more than we had hoped for and all we needed to boost our visibility.” “You were still in San Diego at this point?” I asked. “Yes, we had completed our briefing with the core team and were flying in that evening,” Dan replied. “Can you tell me a little about the briefing?” “We just wanted to make sure the girls weren’t caught off guard by some of the

questions the media were sure to ask, like: ‘Do you think you have the strength and experience to compete against the men?’ or ‘Are you in this to win or just grab some headlines for women’s causes?’ We told them to stay on message as much as they could reiterating that having a lot of experience isn’t necessarily the key to competing in the Cup, an example being me at the 92 Cup. We told them to emphasize the importance of team work, attitude, and a fast boat.”

LaGuardia Airport NYC, NY

Dan’s private jet landed at La Guardia 8:00 pm EST on March 8th. Two limo’s ferried the team across town to the Plaza. Everyone broke out in smiles as they came upon the Defender setting predominantly in front of the main entrance. Reed greeted them from onboard where he had been doing some final touchups for the big day. “Hi, Vince,” Reed yelled from the deck. “Glad to see you all made it in safely.” “Hello, Reed,” Vince yelled out from across the drive as the team got out of the limos and started for the Defender. Dan trailed the team and went unnoticed by Reed and Eric who had just come up on deck. Everyone gathered around patting and rubbing Defender affectionately. “Hello, Mr. Cook. I didn’t see you get out of the limo,” Reed said, a little taken back he did not greet him earlier. “Hello, Reed, Eric. Nice to see you made it in one piece,” Dan replied. “She looks real good, nice job.” After some small talk, more pats and affectionate rubbing of the Defender the entourage made their way inside. It was agreed they would all meet for dinner and drinks and a final tune up before they faced the media. Vince had to figure out a way to make the women think of this event as fun, as the tension everyone was feeling was palpable.

“Dan, I would like to have a few minutes with you and the management team for a quick update before dinner,” Vince said before exiting the elevator. “Sure, give me 20 minutes and come up to my suite,” Dan obliged. Dan’s suite was all you would expect for a billionaire visiting New York City. Upon arriving, the executive team was immediately taken by the esthetics of the suite with glimmering marble floors and counters, mahogany ing, and plush leather seating. Vases filled with bright and somewhat exotic floral arrangements adorned counters and table tops. They all sat informally around a large coffee table sipping champagne as the discussions began. “Brad, you’re in the spotlight for the next few days. Why don’t you start us off with an update on media and sponsors,” Vince said. “Well, many of you missed the evening news, but we were well covered. There was even some footage of the Defender sailing down Broadway, taken by a bystander who sold it to the media. Three local stations and a network team came out to film the Defender as Rick and I both gave interviews. We informed the press there was going to be a big announcement tomorrow they won’t want to miss here at the Plaza. They pressed for more details but we managed to keep them in suspense. There will be a good media turnout tomorrow. As for sponsors, I alerted all of our top prospects and ers to tune in, and I also invited them to the media event. Several already got back to me, quite eager to participate, indicating they want to be a sponsor of the women’s team. The three major potential sponsors will let me know tomorrow for sure. I guess they want to see what the media will make of the team,” Brad concluded. “So, what do the numbers look like if your best case scenario were to happen?” Dan asked. “Best case I’d say is in the $20 million range,” Brad responded, with just enough certainty to cause Dan to raise his glass and toast. “To UA3.” Dan’s voice rang out as they clinked their glasses. It was time for them to meet with the core team for dinner. Vince was determined to make it a very relaxed time for all with lots of encouragement and sailing stories from the women to remind them how special they were to be part

of this team. By the end of the night they all seemed very relaxed. No one seemed anxious and they all felt well prepared for their unveiling tomorrow.

Plaza Hotel New York City March 9, 1994

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen,” Dan said to the crowd. Many more media personnel, sponsors, and interested parties had turned up than he expected. Much more to his surprise was the extensive representation of the foreign press services. The women’s team in the Whitbread had created so much interest in Europe that they didn’t want to miss this story. “Thank you all for coming and your interest in our project. Today the management team for United America is pleased to announce we will be entering for the first time ever an all women’s team to compete in the America’s Cup.” Dan’s announcement immediately sent murmurs through the room and suddenly applause. Dan stood proudly at the podium flanked by the 8 women of the core team seated to his right and UA3 management seated to his left. The applause ended and Dan continued. “It is my pleasure to introduce to you the 8 of our core team here with me today as well as our management team. I will then open the floor for any questions you may have for anyone on our dais. First, to my far right hand is CJ Islin. CJ is a San Diego native and a world class sailor with international race experience. She holds world titles and won an Olympic Bronze Medal at the Barcelona games in 1992 sailing in the 470 class event.” Dan paused as a hearty applause went out to CJ. He thought about asking the audience to hold their applause till the end but decided it was good to have each team member receive their own recognition.

“Seated next to CJ is Stephanie Morrow. Steph is also an Olympic Medal winner at the Barcelona games in the women’s pair rowing competition. At 5’11” and 170 pounds she is stronger than any of our management team,” Dan said, looking to his management team squirming a little through the laughter and applause. “Next to Steph is Anna Shelton, one our most decorated team . In addition to being part of the medal winning Olympic crew team with Steph, she has won 14 national rowing championships and 4 silver medals in her 9 years of rowing. Anna is also a Harvard Graduate and has a Master in Journalism from Columbia. She is not available to any of you until after the Cup,” Dan kidded, to more laughter and applause. Dan went on to introduce the rest of the core team including Alison James, Betsy Linder, Lynne Jamison, Linda Lamount, and Allison Turcott. He pointed out, where appropriate, their size and strength, hoping to deflect some of the questions he knew would be asked regarding this obvious deficit. “There’s one more team member I would like to introduce. She is not here with us today. We expect she is somewhere in the Southern Ocean approaching Cape Horn. Gail Adley is skipper aboard the Heineken, the all women’s team sailing in the Whitbread race around the world. She is a thoroughly capable and experienced sailor. She was part of my team in the 92 Cup competition. We are very pleased to have her as part of this historic women’s Cup team,” Dan concluded. There was applause and a standing ovation, at which point he asked the women’s team to rise. He probably should have introduced the management team first as their introductions were anti-climactic. They were brief as the media were anxious to begin their questioning. “And now I would like to open the floor to your questions. You can direct them to me or any one on the dais.” “Mr. Cook, my name is Scott Randall from the New York Times. I’ve been covering the America’s Cup for the Times for many years, and I’m pretty familiar with what it takes to win at this level. How do you plan to overcome the strength deficit of an all women’s team compared to the men’s teams?” Dan and the whole management team had anticipated this type of question, and

any one of them could have answered. “Thank you for your question,” Dan began. “50% of America’s Cup success is boat speed, 25% tactics, 20% team work and of the team work only 10% can be attributed to strength. That leaves 5% for just plain luck. This is not just a theory. It’s been researched and accepted by most racing bodies as fact, not to mention I have experienced this first hand in my 92 America’s Cup victory. It’s a fair question though. I think the training and conditioning plans developed by our team trainer, Kirby Wells, will add to the team’s considerable strength and conditioning.” “Hello CJ. My name is John Dalton from the Times of London. How do you view this Cup event? Is it just a big race for you on the world stage or do you see it as a historic event?” Dan walked the mike down to CJ and gave her a reassuring nod. They had discussed this in their briefing. “Well, both actually. Certainly it is the biggest racing event any of us has ever experienced, and make no mistake, we will be ready when the trials start. But I feel very fortunate to be a part of the first ever all women’s team to compete in the America’s Cup. Yes, it is historic but what I have learned from my experience is that women can accomplish anything they set our minds too,” CJ concluded, to more applause and smiles from the management team.

The questioning went on covering everything from how the plan on dealing with family issues to how they will prepare for a major defeat and humiliation. For the most part the media was respectful and ive and wanted to focus on the positive aspects of having a women’s team in the Cup. But all perspectives had to be covered. When the media event was over, you could score a big win for United America. The story was all over the news and across the globe. Brad’s phone started ringing and didn’t stop for three days. Everyone wanted in.

CHAPTER 9

RETURN TO PUNTA del ESTE

Le Maire Strait South America East Coast

Only Gail and two others had the experience of flying through the Le Maire Strait. It was probably for the best that so few knew what hell was in store for them. The Strait was the only stretch of water that made you wish you were back in the Southern Ocean. Only 120 miles around the Horn and winds and currents began to accelerate. Gail alerted the crew earlier as to what they might encounter. ‘Better a little anxiety now than sheer surprise and panic later,’ Gail thought. “How are they holding up?” Gail asked Leah, one of the veterans of the Strait. “Nervous, but they all know what to do,” Leah replied. “Geri and Sue are helping to keep everyone on task.” “I think it’s starting,” Gail surmised. “Yup, winds are picking up. How bad do you think it will get?” Leah asked, exposing her own concerns. “Probably 30, 40 knots. We’ll be OK as long as we keep the winds at our backs. Disaster if we get spun around to a head wind,” Gail confided. “We’re entering the channel,” Gail yelled, as the roar of the surf increased to match the rushing winds. “I can’t feel the rudder gripping. This could be a problem.”

They had taken a look under the hull just around the Horn to see how much of the rudder was left. It had broken off cleanly just below the shaft leaving about a third of the rudder to steer them through the roughest part of the leg. The current pushed Heineken along at 40 knots. Thirty-five foot breakers crashed against the deck knocking the crew off their feet. Safety lines kept the crew from being washed overboard. Breaker after breaker carried the Heineken up three story buildings, then shot her out their windows. ‘ It’s tiring, it’s frightening, when will it end’ Gail thought. It doesn’t. It gets worse. Heineken gets spun around by a huge wave. What Gail feared most transpired. Heineken was now heading into the wind. The jib blew apart. Gail had no control over the boat and the next big wave would sink her for sure. The jib and the sheets used to control it were flapping in the wind like wings on a humming bird. “Pull it down, pull it down!” Gail yelled at the top of her lungs trying to be heard above the roaring surf and wind. “Pull it down,” she yells, but it’s not coming down fast enough as the sea was winding up for another blast of surf. “Pull it down,” she yelled, desperately trying to regain control and get the ship righted before it got knocked on its side. Merritt already knew what had to be done and was well on her way to cutting the jib loose to free them from this peril. The jib dropped and was swallowed up by the sea. Their number 2 jib, a bit smaller sail, was hoisted, and Gail regained some amount of control turning the Heineken about and picking up the tail wind again. The thrill ride continued but the crew felt the worst of it was over. They escaped with minor injuries and would have a great story to tell when they reached port. Punta was a welcomed sight unlike the first time Gail landed there. Leg 4 was long and tiring and Heineken needed a lot of repairs. Help was waiting when they reached the finish line coming in a respectable 10th place. If nothing else, Heineken was a good provider and sponsor. The girls partied hard on Heineken’s dime while their boat was undergoing a well deserved refit. With two sails down and only a third of the rudder in tact, she managed to bring the girls home safely.

Punta del Este, Uruguay Whitbread Leg 5 April 2, 1994

It was just under 4 weeks when the travel, parties, visits, and promotions came to an end and the Whitbread was again the focus of attention. A sailboat armada again accompanied the Whitbread ships about the harbor in the midst of much fanfare and revelry. Thousands lined the shores and thousands more filled the harbor. The race was about to begin. With sails full out, the teams jockeyed for position. No one ventured ahead of the starter’s cannon. The 5th leg of the Whitbread had begun. The race to Fort Lauderdale was deemed the “women’s leg” by one skipper. The trip was an easy ride by some s, though it comprised some 5,475 miles. It did have its challenges but nothing life threatening. What challenged them the most was the lack of wind, particularly through the doldrums just across the equator. ‘Just another day on the ocean,’ Gail mused in the heat of the tropical sun. Eight days out from Punta, and the crew was drawing on every bit of sailing skill they had to find a breeze to keep moving forward. It seemed as though they were adrift in the still waters of the Atlantic. They were so still that the crew felt easy about diving in to cool off a bit and for some sun bathing au natural on the fore deck. “Watch this,” Gail said, amused as she spotted the Winston coming up on her aft. “Oh girls, do you see what I see,” she sang, pointing in the direction of the Winston about 100 yards out. Not all, but some of the sun bathers came running down the deck nearly diving through the companionway to get below and out of sight. “I bet they have their glasses up,” Gail quipped. “Sure do,” Geri answered as she saw they were clearly enjoying the view through their binoculars. “Let me see,” Gail said, reaching for the binoculars. She scanned the deck of the Winston looking for Devon. He was a renowned chauvinist and womanizer who must be getting a real kick out of this. ‘The stories he will tell will set women’s sailing back a decade,’ she thought. “There he is,” Gail yelled. “Who?” Geri asked.

“Devon Cahill. He’s having a good old time with the boys. Please tell Kaori and Mikki to stop showing off and get their asses off deck,” Gail snapped, now perturbed by their lack of modesty. Geri delivered Gail’s message. Unaffected by the Winston’s voyeurism, they continued to sunbathe for a moment, after all, they had all the right gear in all the right places covered in a deep dark tan. Tall, muscular and quite lovely to look at, they both slowly rose, turned their behinds to the Winston, and bent down to pick up their towels. You could almost hear the howling coming from the Winston. “What are they so excited about? It’s only been 8 days since Punta. Everyone got laid didn’t they?” Gail mused. “Nice,” Gail said as Kaori and Mikki sauntered by still naked as the day they were born. “Hey, they got some wind,” Geri noticed. “I’ll be damned if we tack their way. I’d rather stay adrift than get back into the race at this point,” Gail growled, hearing the crew below laughing it up over what just happened. “If you all don’t mind getting some clothes on, we still have a boat to sail here,” Gail said, bringing the party to an end. By evening the winds picked up a bit, enough to carry them to the trade winds. ‘It should be a good ride from here,’ Gail thought.

CHAPTER 10

BACK IN THE STATES

Fort Lauderdale, FL April 26, 1994

At 4:30 pm EST Heineken crossed the finish line in 6th place in the 5th leg of the Whitbread. It was her best finish to date. Lauderdale would be a good stop. Many of the crew had family and loved ones waiting for them. For Randi and Merritt the stop over would mean a trip to San Diego to try out for the women’s team. Gail had prearranged the timing with Kirby. Gail, who kept in constant with Bryan, had planned their first rendezvous since Christmas and their engagement. ENZA’s race was over, and it seemed Bryan wanted some type of commitment from Gail about their future. At least that’s what the theme of most of their faxes had been. Gail was a bit apprehensive about their meeting. Bryan would push her regarding the women’s team. It would take her to San Diego, and Bryan made it clear he wasn’t moving there. Bryan wanted some long overdue alone time with Gail in Auckland but Gail’s mind was made up. She now had to figure a way to get Bryan onboard with her Cup ambitions.

Lauderdale was no Auckland when it came to cheering crowds at the finish, but it was way more than the crew expected. The women’s team had generated a great deal of interest. Even First Lady Hillary Clinton sent a note congratulating them on completing this leg of their challenging journey. Hillary went on to recognize them as role models for the young women of America. “I’m sure the crew of the Winston would agree,” Gail joked to Geri, as they waded through the crowd of well-wishers.

“Bryan, Bryan, over here,” Gail excitedly called out above the noisy throng. They navigated through the crowd and once again found the warmth of each other’s arms, and once again Gail fought back tears. “Hey, honey, great leg. Nice going,” Bryan said earnestly, but probably not the first words Gail wanted to hear. “I missed you so much,” was all she could offer for the moment. “I missed you too, darling,” Bryan said, catching the moment. ‘That’s better,’ Gail thought. They hugged for a moment longer. “Your family is up the dock a bit. They can’t wait to see you,” Bryan said, trying to extricate himself from Gail’s grip. She reluctantly relinquished her hold but managed to still grasp his arm as they walked. They start a quick catch up on each other’s sailing as they stroll up the dock to waiting family. The Cup never came up. “Mom, Dana,” Gail yelled, from the crowd. “Hi, honey,” her mom yelled back. Gail ran up to her mom and Dana. A group hug ensued. “Hi, Charlie,” Gail called over to her stepfather. He stepped into her arms for a brief hug and good to see you welcome. Gail liked Charlie. He was good for her mother after a stormy first marriage to her father. She was happy to see her mom in love again. “We have to go over to the shipping container to pick up our stuff. It won’t take long so let’s keep together. I also need to have a quick word with the shore crew about the Heineken. She needs a lot of work,” Gail informed the group. Boat secure, the team all met at the container that followed them from port to port. “Hey, guys,” Gail called out. It was easy to get everyone’s attention as they congregated at the mouth of the container. “I’ll be going over our to-do list with the shore team. Be sure you get with them before you head out if you have anything you want to stress. We’ll meet here Wednesday next week. Other than

that have a great time,” Gail said cheerily. “You guys all set?” Gail asked, turning to Merritt and Randi. “Pretty much,” Randi replied. Merritt just nodded. “Any words of wisdom?” Randi asked. “Well, I already spoke with Kirby. He will be meeting you at the airport. He knows how I feel about you two and what an asset I think you will be on the women’s team. Just do your thing. I sailed with a lot of women, and nobody has the skills and determination you two have shown. One thing I can say having sailed with Dan Cook, it’s not all about experience with these guys. Dan built his winning crew on team work, attitude, and technology. He will provide the boat. All you need to show is a mindset for team work and a good attitude,” Gail emphasized. “Thanks for the good word with Kirby,” Merritt piped in. “No problem, good luck and we’ll see you back here next week,” Gail replied. “Thanks, see ya,” Randi said, as she and Merritt departed. The crew was all smiles pleased to be with family and friends. They were also happy about the 6th place finish. The party tents would rock tonight. “We should talk,” Bryan said softly in Gail’s ear as they all walked towards the Heineken tent to meet briefly with the shore team. “I know,” Gail replied, trying not to draw attention to this conversation. “I just need to update the shore team on a few things and we will head to the hotel,” Gail said, hiding her anxiety. She couldn’t help feeling the little talk with Randi and Merritt about the Cup tryout sparked his need to have this conversation sooner rather than later. Gail briefly discussed the repair list with the shore team. They were pretty much up to speed from the faxes Gail had been sending from out at sea. They knew about the broken rudder, torn main sail, issues with the spinnaker, and the jib lost at sea, not to mention the numerous electrical and mechanical repairs that needed to be done. The one month stopover would be plenty of time to fix all of the

problems heading into the last leg of the Whitbread. The rest of the crew filtered in to give the team specifics about their areas of concern. As promised, the Adley clan headed out to start their time of reunion and relaxation. The Marriott Residence Inn was a short drive from the dock. It was a beautiful place with tropical gardens surrounding the entire structure. Flowering shrubs and potted plants that were able to survive the relentless heat of Florida’s summer months inundated the main entrance. “They have tiled private bathrooms, don’t they?” Gail asked. “Yes they do, honey,” Bryan replied, feeling her pain from weeks of one small potty for 12 women. “Ah, amenities,” sighed Gail. The family split up to go to their respective rooms agreeing to meet early that evening for dinner and drinks. Gail knew she would need a bath, time to primp, rest, and plenty of Bryan time. With any luck the Cup talk would be the farthest thing from his mind. Finally, alone they hugged in earnest. Bryan’s 6’1” body fit nicely against Gail’s 5’11” athletic frame. He had a tanned muscular body and Gail was looking as good as ever having lost 18 pounds since leaving Punta the first time. They bathed in copious amounts of bubbles, showered and made love for over an hour. They crashed from exhaustion, both emotional and physical. Two hours later the phone rang. It was 7:00 pm and Dana called to see if they would ever be ready for dinner. “We’ll meet in the lobby in 20 minutes, no make that 30,” Gail said, still groggy and so enjoying warm, dry bedding. The Marriott had an ading restaurant that was very suitable for the occasion. It had comfortable seating, impeccable service, and great drinks - the frozen kind with lots of alcohol. The sea stories from both the Heineken and the ENZA became more heroic as the drinks kept coming. Gail filled up quickly but continued to sample something from everyone’s plate. “Somebody stop me,” she pleaded. “Are you going to eat that shrimp, Mom?” she asked. Her mom was all too willing to give it up after hearing what she had been eating the last few weeks.

So it was for the next several days. They enjoyed meals together, drinking, lounging, swimming, day trips to the mall, movies, and spending time at the beach. It seemed all too soon but the family vacation was coming to an end. They had to get back to their jobs and lives leaving Bryan and Gail alone. That night lying next to her in bed after yet another romantic interlude, Bryan asked himself if this would be a good time to bring up their future plans. Wisely, he decided to wait until after breakfast tomorrow. “Honey,” Bryan began after their order was taken and coffee poured. “I really can’t tell you how much I have enjoyed this time with you.” “I know, me to.” Gail broke in but Bryan went on. “I feel it can be this way from now on. When we’re together there is nothing that can hurt us. Being apart for long periods of time, well, it just puts too much stress on our relationship. I want to be with you always. We both love Auckland as our home but we haven’t been there together for over a year. If you go to San Diego with the women’s team, it will mean another year before we’re together again where we want to be. I’m not saying it’s us or the Cup like an ultimatum or something. I’m just saying this relationship will be under a bunch of stress again, and I much prefer what we have had over the last several days.” Bryan paused for a reaction. Gail didn’t speak right away. She smiled, took a sip of water, and clasped Bryan’s hand. There was so much to say and so much riding on what she had to say. ‘Where to start?’ she thought. “I the first time we met. It was at Marty’s after the Stiegland. In all the chaos of sailors drinking after the big race, there you were standing quietly at the edge of the terrace watching the sunset. I came over to you as you stared at the horizon. You almost didn’t notice me but when you did you turned to me a little surprised and said, ‘You know I’ve been around the world but I’ve yet to see anything as beautiful as a sunset in Auckland.’ “There we stood face to face for the first time. I had seen you during the week, one man among hundreds all about each day. I felt like I was being drawn to you. I guess I made up my mind to meet you and if we were to ever meet, I would have to make the first move. Risk it all to see if there was a similar attraction on your part. Through all the small talk on that terrace I felt even more

drawn to you. But you were guarded like you were in a relationship. There were no sparks. I thought about you again that night as I looked out to the sea. It occurred to me then that it was sailing and the sea you were in a relationship with. I know because I have felt drawn away by the same powers. I can’t tell you how happy I was when you sought me out the next day. I sensed the sparks were starting to fly. And after spending the next three months with you, I thought the spell sailing had on us had been broken. Then came the first Whitbread for me and the New Zealand National team for you. Were we confident in our relationship then to separate for a while and not be threatened by our ion for sailing? Maybe, it was just a trial separation to see how we would feel about each other after being apart for a long period of time. The plans and dreams we made during those first three months in Auckland are still very much a part of me and where I want to be. I want to know we are strong enough and committed enough to see us through one last calling. I really want to do the America’s Cup but I don’t want to lose what we have.” With tears in her eyes, Gail searched Bryan’s eyes for some hint of inner truth. “If we were to be together for your run at the Cup, it would mean me moving to San Diego for at least a year. I don’t feel I can do that. I think the resentment would hurt us in the long run. I’ll be leaving for Auckland tomorrow.” Bryan’s words hit Gail like a twenty-foot wave. “What? I thought you were staying till next week,” she said fearfully. “I made these arrangements knowing how our discussion would end. I’m not angered by it. I believe on some level it’s what you need to do. I just can’t be there with you knowing you chose to put our lives together on hold. I need to focus now on something of my own making to ward off the resentment that’s building in me. I don’t know what I’ll do in Auckland. I have no plans other than working at the yacht club and maybe racing a few local regattas. If something big comes along, I fear there is nothing to stop me from pursuing it,” Bryan said, purposefully vague. Gail was at a loss for words. His mind was obviously made up. He had already made travel arrangements back to Auckland to live in the cottage they shared overlooking the ocean. It seemed less hers now. But strangely she felt no compulsion to reverse everything that was happening and tell Bryan she would forsake her desire to the women’s team. No, in fact she oddly felt more determined to follow this dream.

“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?” she asked, out of the emptiness she felt inside. “Gail, we are both very determined people. It’s a blessing and a curse. It’s what is driving us apart now, but ultimately may keep us together if time and space doesn’t change us,” Bryan replied. They held each other quietly in their own thoughts. Gail hardly slept that night wondering if she were doing the right thing. But she still felt no urge to change the course their lives were about to take. ‘What would I be gaining by racing in the Cup? What am I willing to risk by doing so?’ she asked herself. She thought about the ion, the fire inside her that drew her away from everything else life has to offer. ‘This one last time,’ she thought, ‘and then I’ll be done.’ Bryan caught a cab to the airport. He didn’t want an emotional goodbye, nevertheless, Gail cried as she watched his cab fade out of sight. While the tears were the same, the feeling was much different. She had left her engagement ring on the night stand, not wanting to be the one who offered it up. She noticed it was gone before they left the room that morning. She wondered whether their future together would disappear just as quietly.

Ft. Lauderdale Yacht Club Wednesday May 4, 1994

Gail arrived at the Heineken compound a few days early. Her abbreviated R&R left her with too much time to think. No one else from the crew was around. All were determined to soak up as much fun in the sun as possible before reporting back to the Heineken to help ready her for the last grueling leg of the Whitbread. The way home to Southampton would take them through the North Atlantic. No easy trip for the sea weary women’s team. “Gail,” Ben called out from the companionway, somewhat surprised to see her. “Couldn’t stay away, could you?” he jested.

“Hi, Ben. You know me, can’t get enough of this stuff,” she responded, keeping her emotions in check. “Where do we stand?” “Well, we’re going to pull her out of the water next Tuesday to get a look at the rudder. Already called home for a new one to be built and shipped asap. Quite a nuisance these rudders. Don’t know why they don’t last. Other than that, we replaced your main and started repair to your Code 7. Your Code 3 is gone, and I was told lost at sea. How exactly do you lose a sail?” Ben asked. “Don’t ask,” Gail replied, giving Ben the distinct impression this was not a good time to broach that subject. “Yes, well sheets have been ordered, winches broken down, and we’ll start a complete rehab: cleaning, sanitizing, and refitting of the crew quarters. I’ve held off on the other mechanical and electrical systems until your crew is back. Best if they take part in the repairs so they’ll know how to fix things when you’re out to sea.” Ben concluded his update. “Great, sounds like you’ve accomplished a lot. What can I do to help?” Gail had no problem working along side the shore team. It was good to refocus her mind. The next day Gail met up with Merritt and Randi. “Hi guys,” Gail called out from the deck of the Heineken. Merritt and Randi had just returned from their tryout with the women’s team in San Diego. “Hi, Gail,” Randi called back as they climbed aboard. “So, how did it go?” Gail asked, full of anticipation. ‘Great,” Randi replied, while Merritt still remained quiet, as usual, waiting to be asked something before talking. Gail, knowing this trait, asked Merritt, “What did you think?” “It went well, I thought. The people were very nice, and I think they were impressed with our experience and attitude,” Merritt said, opening up a bit. “Thanks for the advice.” “They won’t be deciding right away. It seems they have a ton of candidates to put through the program, but I feel we did really well. At least they made us feel

that way,” Randi said, still pumped from the experience. “Well, you deserve a few days of rest so get out of here and go for a swim or something,” Gail directed. “Hey, why are you here? Where’s Bryan? I thought we wouldn’t see you till the cannon sounded,” Randi asked quizzically. “Long story. Maybe we can meet up tonight over drinks. I’ll need drinks to tell you about it,” Gail answered. “But not now. Go get some R&R,” she snapped. The full crew was not scheduled to be back until May 8th. That gave Gail 3 nights to hang out with Randi and Merritt who didn’t make plans with family and friends since they had to go to San Diego. It was good to relax with them and get the whole Bryan thing off her chest with people who would sympathize with her and make her feel like she did the right thing. Gail’s days were taken up with working on the Heineken or off somewhere with Howard promoting the team. Local women’s business groups were very interested in hearing about women competing in the men’s world of yacht racing. Gail never tired of their questions. Sailing at this level was something foreign to most working moms and young professionals. She described days on end without showers or decent food, not to mention danger on the high seas. Gail’s stories took them away from their safety net and gave them a vision of an experience they would never have. Gail was as graphic as she could be and very careful to include what sacrifices were being made to advance women’s causes. Donations poured in.

The days were moving quickly now towards the May 21st race day. It was May 15th and with just a week to go, they would all have to pitch in to complete the overhaul on Heineken. On Thursday May 19th, the new rudder arrived from New Zealand. On Friday May 20th it was installed a little later than Gail and crew were comfortable with. But once installed, it completed the work, and Gail called a final meeting onboard the newly refurbished spit and polished Heineken. She looked great, and everyone felt renewed energy for the final leg of the Whitbread. It was cloudy and breezy, typical for the Atlantic seacoast. “Well, ladies, here we are. The last leg of the Whitbread. While I believe the

worst is behind us, the North Atlantic will be no walk in the park. I do feel, however, that our boat is in the best shape it’s been in since the race began. And once we hit the Gulf Stream winds we’ll be flying. We are in 7th place now in our class. I really feel we can move up barring any catastrophe and our rudder holds up.” Gail’s rudder comment sparked a round of murmurs. “We all agree we will be taking a more northerly route. I know some teams are favoring a more direct path to England off the Gulf Stream route. It could work for them. But if they don’t pick up some wind from low pressure systems not even on the radar yet, they will be adrift while we cruise on the ever present Gulf Stream winds,” Gail concluded. “Yes, Randi.” She recognized her raised hand. “Do we know what route Brookfield will be taking?” she astutely asked. The Brookfield was the closest competitor they could overtake to move up a spot. “No, not yet. I guess we’ll find out when we’re out there. It will be about 1,200 miles up the coast before you have to commit to a route. I suspect they’ll make a decision based on developing weather patterns. OK, if there are no other questions, let’s try to get some rest tonight. , we’ll be back on 4 hour shifts tomorrow. See you on deck at 10:00 am.” Gail concluded the meeting with everyone feeling upbeat and ready to go. The only thing that stood between them and the finish line in Southampton, England was the icy North Atlantic.

CHAPTER 11

MAKING THE TEAM

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“So, in everyone’s estimation media day was a great success. Your sponsors were lining up quickly, emails came flying in from women sailors all over the country and money too I suspect,” I said, recounting the day’s effect. “Yes, we received a lot of not only from the US but from around the world,” Dan recounted. “It seems the women’s team sailing in the Whitbread that year gained a lot of attention and internationally. This boded very well for us, and it didn’t hurt that we had Gail Adley as our skipper. The world seemed to be tuning in to see how the women would do in the America’s Cup. The hard work for us was just beginning. Our management team headed back to San Diego to set up shop for training and evaluating the candidates. Some three hundred women had to be scheduled and put through our program. We wanted to name our final team by May end.” “What about Gail? Wouldn’t she have still been racing in the Whitbread?” I asked, for some clarification. “Yes, she started the last leg back to England about the time we announced the final team. No matter, she was going to be our skipper and a valuable member of the team having the most experience racing big boats. She ed the team just before a trial run in the New Port Regatta. But that’s getting ahead of the story. Let’s go back to San Diego and how we picked the team,” Dan said in reminiscent mode.

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA March 11, 1994

It was another beautiful morning in San Diego. Bright sun, clear blue skies, and a stiff off shore breeze made San Diego the sailor’s paradise that it was. The UA3 management team arrived at the compound early Friday morning to set everything in motion for the first group of women sailors that would be put through the program. “Good morning all.” Vince greeted the eager management team still energized from the media event. “We all can agree what a resounding success media day turned out to be. We know, however, what is ahead of us. With the world watching now it’s up to us to deliver what we promised, not only a competitive team, but one that is actually capable of winning. I will be posting a schedule of events and target dates from today through our first trial race. Send me your and anything that needs adjusting. Before we head out I’d like to have an update on where we stand and what we can expect over the next week. Obviously, we’ll start with Kirby,” Vince concluded, yielding the floor to Kirby. “OK, most of the prospects we invited to help set up camp and evaluate the program have checked in. There will be a few late arrivals but so far no cancels. Once the regular weekly schedule begins, each group will come in on Fridays, do a tour, have a meet and greet dinner together, and engage in a group meeting so we can let them know what to expect and what we are looking for. We start early on Saturday mornings. Wednesdays they depart, we turn the compound around on Thursdays, and begin again with a new group checking in on Friday. I have put a brief overview with bios on the first group here in your packets. It will give you something to talk about when we meet and greet this evening. That’s it for now.” Kirby ended anticipating questions. “Thank you, Kirby. Great job getting the schedule pulled together. Just want to

say good morning and welcome to Buddy and Don.” Vince pointed to the two newest of the management team. “They will, of course, be heading up the sailing tryouts and evaluations,” Vince said, with little other explanation. Buddy Mills and Don Davies were well known by the management team having sailed with Dan in the 92 Cup. Their sailing expertise would be invaluable to forming and developing the women’s team. “Sorry we’re late. We forgot how bad rush hour traffic can be around here,” Buddy offered, knowing how much of a stickler Vince was for punctuality. “We’ll forgive you this time,” Vince said, only half kidding. “We have been keeping you in the loop on what’s been happening to date. Do you want to update us on your training program?” “Sure. Don will around our program outline.” Buddy signaled Don to out the packets they had prepared. “We will begin by evaluating each prospect’s physical abilities and conditioning. We’ll be working with Dick Smith, as you know, and, of course, Kirby. Dick will be here later to take part in the meet and greet and tour. We don’t want to eliminate anyone right off the get go, but we don’t want anyone getting hurt either, whether on the boat or in the gym. So, for those who are marginally ready to undertake this ordeal, we’ll give a couple of days of conditioning before they go out to sail. We need people in reasonably good shape so we can spend the majority of time evaluating their sailing skills. Our plan, as you can see, is to rotate each prospect through all the positions so they gain an understanding of what each teammate’s job is. We’ll then focus on their strengths and evaluate them in their position of choice. If we feel they will do better in another position, we will make that recommendation. We’ll evaluate individuals and groups on how they work together and how they tacked, jibed, hoisted and doused the spinnaker, worked the helm, and called tactics. Should be fun,” Buddy concluded. “With 300 plus to choose from we should end up with a pretty strong and enthusiastic team. Thanks guys,” Vince said. The rest of the team gave their updates covering sponsorships, legal affairs, media, and building for the women’s team here and abroad.

“We have this thing going now and we can’t stop it. It’s kinda taken on a life of its own. It will get bigger and louder. We all want results, and I feel strongly we’ll get them so work hard but be sure to enjoy the ride along the way,” Vince said, to conclude the meeting.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“Were you there for the first group?” I asked. “No. I wanted to be but I had other business to attend to. Anyway the first group in were women we knew had the essential skills we were looking for. We asked them in first to help with the finishing touches in the compound, do a run through the program and perform sailing exercises to help us evaluate how effective the program would be. Many of the women g up didn’t have big boat experience. They were rowers and small boat experts with a lot of credentials. It was important to know how fast they could pick up the essentials of big boat racing.”

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA

“Vince, we’re all set in the training compound,” Kirby said, ducking his head in Vince’s office. The first of the prospects had now all arrived. The test group so to speak. They would set the standard everyone else would have to meet. Vince and Kirby made their way to the training compound. They were pleased to see upon their arrival everyone in lighthearted conversation and looking very comfortable with each other.

“Hello, can I have your attention for a moment, please,” Kirby said, above the fading buzz of the group. “I want to introduce Vince Meyers. He is our team leader and executive director for UA3 management,” Kirby said, turning the floor over to Vince amidst polite applause. The women and team management stood amongst the exercise equipment in a semi-circle as Vince moved up to the center. He looked over his audience for a brief moment consisting of ten UA3 management, eight core team , and the four new prospects forming the semi-circle. The most conspicuous person in the audience was Diane Kingsley. At 6’1” and 180 pounds, she was a striking figure of strength and beauty. The other three prospects included Lisa Charles, who was tall and strikingly beautiful. She had the unusual background of having a Yacht Master’s license and experience in the field of fashion design. It was her yachting experience of course that caught Kirby’s eye, particularly her care and maintenance experience. Melissa Purdy was recommended to UA3 by a racing organization in Australia. Melissa had been an All American while in college and followed her dream to Australia to race big boats in international competition. The last invited prospect in the first group was Jane King, one of the most experienced yachters in the group with international world cup racing experience. “Hello everyone. I trust you have had the tour and met the coaches and trainers you will be working with over the next week,” Vince opened his remarks to nods and smiles. “You are a very select group chosen to go through our program first. Kirby and others have explained why you have been selected and what we need you to do. I want to thank you for agreeing to participate. As part of your tryout we are asking you to evaluate all aspects of the training. We want to know what challenges you to be stronger and a better sailor. Knowing what your background and abilities are in sailing, we suspect you will make the team. This is still a tryout for you and in the end you will still need to make a decision if you are willing to make the commitment of time and sacrifices regarding career and family. So, with that said each of our program directors will now give you an overview of what to expect in the coming days and also what we expect of you. Since we are here in the workout area, I’ll have Dick start us off,” Vince said, handing the floor over to Dick. “Hello again,” Dick said, already having met the prospects and core team. “First, as you might expect, I have some forms you need to fill out.” A groan could be heard from the assembly.

“Yes, I know how we all hate forms, but it’s important for me to know what kind of condition you have kept yourselves in so I know how hard I can push you. Each day will begin with stretching and conditioning. We’ll run, walk, and jog for a half hour each day before we have breakfast. Breakfast will consist of a well balanced protein carb meal of between 800 to 1,000 calories. Believe me you will need the carbs. After breakfast you will meet with Buddy and Don for strategy discussions and run through different scenarios and view some video. Buddy and Don will fill you in on that part of your day. Just so you will know, Kirby and I outlined a daily routine which he is now ing out. We will be monitoring your heart rates, fatigue levels, and strength. Routines will be progressive as much as you can take and still be effective in sailing exercises. Look over the program. Kirby and I are open to any questions you have. We will see you at 700 hundred hours ready to jog,” Don concluded, thinking there would be no questions. “Excuse me, Mr. Dent,” Diane Kingsley said, before Dick ed the floor to Buddy. “Yes, Diane and please all of you call me Dick,” he said. “I missed my usual exercise routine while traveling. Would it be OK if I used the equipment before I turn in tonight?” she inquired. “Yes, as long as you don’t push yourself beyond your usual workout. I don’t want anyone getting injured doing something beyond their current ability. That’s why we have to evaluate,” Dick cautioned. Kirby leaned over and whispered in Buddy’s ear, “They call her Dianimal.” “I can see why,” Buddy replied, as he made his way to center stage. “OK, before we break for dinner, I just want to give a brief overview of the sailing program we will begin tomorrow. It starts out each morning with a strategy session after breakfast. We will review films of past Cup races, examine the tactics used, and view the techniques and motions of the crew in each position. We will then head out to sea to practice the maneuvers and tactics and evaluate your expertise in each needed skill. At the end of every training drill we will have a race. The prospects vs. the core team with some management on each team. I think it will be fun and a good way to see what you’re learning and how you execute. If there are no questions, I think we should

dismiss and get ready for our dinner this evening. I know you did not have time to unpack and get settled in, so take some time for that, and we’ll see you in the dining hall in an hour,” Buddy concluded. The women, bound by their life’s experiences and the challenge they were about to take on, walked out in small groups immersed in conversation. UA3 watched them depart profoundly happy with the earliest of indications that they would achieve their objectives. The compound was nearly complete except for some final finishing touches the women were going to assist with including selecting bedding, curtains, and complementary toiletries for the incoming prospects. The shore team would do the heavy lifting, as the women advised and directed. The living areas were set up to accommodate two women per room. There were common lounging areas designed to encourage the women to spend time together. Bathing and restrooms were mostly private, having curtained shower and dressing areas. CJ would spend most nights at home, but tonight she would hang out with Stephanie until after dinner. “What did you think of that Diane?” she asked, upon entering Steph’s room. “Oh my God, she could hoist a main by herself I bet,” Steph replied. “Are you rooming with Anna?” CJ asked. She knew it was pretty likely as they were close friends and crewmates in the Olympic rowing events in Barcelona. “Yes, she’s doing her Type A thing with the new prospects,” she replied. “So, this could be home for the next year,” CJ said, looking over the simple but very adequate furnishings. “It really needs some women’s touches to make it a bit more homey. The prospects will only be here for a week, it’s the long-term residents, the final team I’m sure they’re concerned about,” CJ added. “Yeah, you’re lucky. You get to go home every night. How are Peter and Gracie doing anyway?” Steph asked. ‘Fine, fine. They’ll be just fine,” CJ said, in a haunting kind of tone that didn’t slip Steph’s attention. “Hi, CJ,” Anna said, entering the room. “Lynne, Betsy, and I were just talking

with the new prospects. Did you know that Lisa is a fashion designer, and you wouldn’t believe the experience Melissa has in big boat racing,” she blurted out, almost out of breath. “Take a breath,” Steph suggested. “What did you find out about that Amazon Diane?” she asked. “Well, she is very nice and well spoken,” Anna said. “You mean she doesn’t grunt,” CJ kidded. “Of course not,” Anna answered, not thinking that CJ could be kidding. “She is from a small town in Maryland and sang in the church choir. But she has sailed all over the world.” “Can she bench press, CJ?” Steph asked, wanting to continue to joust with Anna as she so often did throughout their friendship. They all laughed. “Yes, she probably can and more,” Anna replied, now onboard with the humor. “What about the other one? Jane is it?” CJ asked. “Yes, Jane. She has unbelievable experience in world cup racing. She even races now with her husband. I can’t wait to sail with her,” she said, all excited again. “You do we only have rowing experience,” Steph said. “I do, but don’t forget what Kirby told us about attitude and teamwork,” she remarked. They all took the allotted time to unpack and settle in. Several met in the lounge area to converse a bit more before they all headed down for dinner. Dinner was catered by a restaurant across the street from the compound called Tarantino’s. All their meals would come from this restaurant following strict guidelines from Kirby and Dick. UA3 management and their spouses sat dispersed among the women’s team prospects. Dinner was extra special as it was the first day of the training program. They had their choice of a beautifully prepared filet with a bacon

wrapped sea scallop or chicken Marsala. It was no surprise that Diane ordered two of the filets. Vince announced that even though alcohol was not going to be served as a rule, Dan did want them to enjoy a glass of wine with their meals and sent along a case of red and a case of white from his famous collection. Dessert was the big hit for this gathering: chocolate lava cake, a deep rich chocolate cake with a melted fudge center that flowed out when you cut into it was the most requested choice but there was also a nice mocha crème brulee and a rich tiramisu. By night’s end everyone was feeling comfortable sipping coffee and getting to know one another. The spouses of the management team were particularly happy to be a part of the event. They had heard so much about the women’s team it was nice to get up close and personal with the main characters. Everyone felt special.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“So, the first group through put their stamp of approval on the program. How did they rate it?” I asked. “High marks for all of it,” Dan exclaimed. “The women with no big boat experience learned a lot, but more importantly they retained what they learned because of the way it was presented: first in the classroom, then watching videos and then performing onboard. It all sunk in faster than we ever thought it would. The women with big boat racing experience found the training very beneficial from a Cup racing perspective. Tactics, execution, and timing were their aha moments in training.” “How much did the mock races contribute to the training?” I asked. “Immeasurable,” Dan eagerly replied. “Getting to see their competitive juices flowing was a good sign for the management team. The feeling was you had to be on a winning team to be considered for the final women’s team. It wasn’t true of course, but you should have seen them work onboard like it was the Cup itself. All their skills came into play. The final race was the highlight for every group. The girls would be at their chosen position, most in the best condition of

their lives. They went full out. I was out there with a couple of the groups and was very encouraged by what I saw. The women were strong, efficient, no prima donnas. They performed as well as any men’s group I’ve ever seen. It was hard to select just 28 out of the 300 or so that went through the program,” Dan said with a sigh. “Can you take me through a typical day of training?” I asked.

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA

“Good morning ladies.” Dick cheerily greeted the eager team prospects. Some were already stretching in the gym prior to their morning jog. “That’s it, stretch out those hammies,” Dick said to the early risers. “Come on in and the fun,” he called to those just entering. “He’s way too happy for so early and me not having any coffee yet,” Steph said to Anna, as they found a place on the mat. “OK, it looks like we’re all here. Can you please stand up?” Dick directed, and began to take them through what would be their standard warm up exercises prior to their morning jog. The drill covered all muscle groups and lasted about 25 minutes. Then it was off to jog the compound road. The jog would take 30 minutes, starting with a medium pace, crescendo to a brisk pace, and ending with a medium cool down back to the compound. The jog would cover 2.5 miles. They could do more if they wanted to on their own time, but much of the day was spoken for. “That was good. Most of you look like you have been keeping yourselves in good shape, so maybe we will pick up the pace a little tomorrow,” Dick informed them. “For now just cool down, and we will meet you in the dining hall in 15 minutes.” Dick circled the room with his hands on his hips. Still glowing, the women made their way through the breakfast line by 7:15 am. Eggs as you like, toast, waffles, bacon, sausage home fries, fruit, yogurt, coffee,

tea, and juices were served up in generous portions. Thirty minutes was allotted for breakfast, then the team would pick up their coffee mugs and head into the conference room for strategy discussions and tape reviews. Buddy had selected a series of tapes from previous Cup events. “Good morning.” Buddy greeted the women taking their seats on either side of two 10-foot banquet tables. The room was 30-feet long and could comfortably accommodate up to 30 people. The screen for viewing the tapes was at the far end of the room away from the entrance. The projector sat on the table in front of the screen paused on a frame that read America’s Cup 1983. That was the year Devon Cahill and the U.S team lost the America’s Cup for the first time in Cup racing history. “That was a great breakfast, wasn’t it?” Buddy said. “It will carry you through our session here, our strength training and conditioning and our first sailing session of the day. So, where do we begin?” he asked rhetorically. “At the very beginning. I have put together a series of tapes on previous Cup races. What we will try to glean from them is the strategies and tactics employed by the teams represented and learn from them what they tried to accomplish and why they won or lost. What we will view this morning is the start of three different races and discuss the strategy employed by each crew to get the best advantage they could for the start of a race,” Buddy said, as he rolled the tape. The women viewed each event, eyes glued to the screen. Buddy pointed out maneuvers and tactics used by each crew as they jockeyed for position prior to the starter’s gun. Starboard tack from behind was the place to be when the gun sounded. Timing was key in trying to hit the starting line at full speed just after the gun. That was what practice would be about that day. “OK ladies you can hit the restrooms if you like. See you in the gym in 15,” Kirby announced. “That’s 9:30,” he added. The daily schedule was tight but did allow for restroom breaks and conversation. The women were pumped. They needed to sound off a bit. It was a way to start building the team mindset. It was likely most of the 13 women in this first camp would make the team of 23. It wasn’t too soon to start. “Listen up everyone.” Dick called for their attention. “We have the equipment set up in a particular order so you can rotate through all of the stations and be

evaluated. There will be a trainer at each station to record your weights and measures. Start off low. We can tell if you’re straining or if you are ready to go to the next level. The point is don’t hurt yourself trying to impress us. Ok, take your chart with you to each station. The trainer will work with you to set up the equipment and record your numbers. We want to try to finish up in an hour,” Dick concluded as the women lined up at their designated station. Strength building was the major focus of the training for both upper and lower body mass. Nautilus equipment, free weights, row machines, still bikes and stair climbers, there was a machine for every muscle. Everyone stopped for a moment as Diane started her bench press. There was 185 pounds on the bar and she pressed it 5 times. “What?” she asked, noticing all eyes were on her. The weight training was the hardest hour they spent since arriving. They couldn’t wait to get onboard. The Corsa and the United America were primed and ready to take on the recruits. Each yacht would have a crew of 10 which included 4 instructors. They boarded and pushed off at 1100 hours. As usual the San Diego harbor provided enough of a breeze to push the boats along at 7 to 10 knots. The women would rotate through all positions as they practiced tacking up to the starter’s gun like they saw in the video. The instructors focused mainly on the rowers and non-sailors. Big boat racers fell right into it and were thrilled sailing the America’s Cup yachts. The instructors called for a maneuver, explained why the maneuver was needed, demonstrated what to do, and then let the women take over. Tacking was the first and most important maneuver. Most of the women knew tacking kept the boat moving forward in a headwind. Half of each race would be against the wind and half with the wind at your back and spinnaker full of air. They would learn how to steal a competitor’s air while tacking and why starboard tack had advantages. “Why don’t we let them run one before we go in.” Buddy yelled across to Don onboard Corsa. “OK, let’s call 5 minutes to the starting gun heading south.” Don called out. “Good, send Bobby down say 300 yards for the starting line,” Buddy replied. They synchronized their watches, and Bobby set off in the tender to set up the line. The two teams began their maneuvers. Buddy and Don let their skippers, Leah on Corsa and Linda on United America, take over. Their big boat

experience was immediately evident. They called out the tacking maneuvers, steering for best advantage in the pre-race to the starting line. “Two minutes,” Buddy called out. Linda circled again and tacked for the starboard side just before Leah could get in position. “Well done,” Buddy noted. With one minute to the start both racers straightened out and headed for the line. Still in a head wind, tacking would continue. The starter’s gun sounded but they were still 100 yards from the line. Not a bad first effort the coaches all agreed.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“The first day was very encouraging in many respects,” Dan said. “How so?” I asked, prompting for more details. “Well, this particular group of women was in very good shape from a conditioning perspective. The exercises and strength evaluations were better than we had anticipated at the start. We liked what we saw from the women with big boat experience and as for the others it was what we expected. From that perspective we had our work cut out for us,” Dan recapped. “So, you felt this was an indication of what to expect from the other groups coming in?” I asked. “Yes, it was. Even the most decorated rowers had little knowledge or experience with big boat racing. There were a few surprises along the way that made us believe there were enough women out there that had what we were looking for,” Dan answered. “What kind of surprises?” I asked. “For one, Gail Adley was still out there, and we knew how valuable she was

going to be to the team. She sent Merritt Carson to tryout while they were on break from the Whitbread in Lauderdale. I tell you, I’ve never seen anything like that Merritt. She was fearless, full of ion for the sport, and strong. Then there was Amy Bradon. Steph encouraged her to try out. Amy was another Olympian. She won gold in a crew event. We were surprised to learn that she was 5’11” and as strong as most men in the sport. Another surprise was Leah Evers. She was in one of the last groups to come through. She was born here in the US but lived most of her life in New Zealand. She was an excellent sailor with big boat experience. At that point we felt we needed 5 more prospects to fill out the 28 we needed. We pretty much exhausted the list so we went back over our notes and focused on strength and attitude attributes to round out the team. I don’t know how we missed her the first time, but Marci Porter was another Olympic hopeful in training when she came to the tryouts. She was strong and very personable, I recalled. One other comes to mind because she had no rowing or sailing experience, but she was a world class weight lifter. I think there was a little lifting competition between her and Diana at one point. Don’t how it turned out. I gotta call Kirby now to find out,” Dan remarked. “So you went through 6 weeks of tryouts before you had your team in place?” I commented. “Yes, we made the announcement May 20, 1994. We gave them a week to commit. They had to report to the San Diego Compound by June 1st to start training as a team. Our plan was to enter the team in the IACC regatta in Newport Rhode Island July end. It was a pretty high class event sanctioned by the IACC…” “IACC?” I asked. “The International America’s Cup Class,” Dan answered. “It’s like a trial for the Cup itself. Anyway, that was the plan and it would put us on the world stage. We really needed to show our stuff. The world would be watching.”

CHAPTER 12

WHITBREAD THE FINAL LEG

Fort Lauderdale, FL May 21, 1994

Some sat and some moved about the deck making ready to push off from their dockside berth. Gail casually conversed with Howard, Ben, and a few others from the shore team. They agreed how great the Heineken looked as well as the crew in their green and white Heineken shorts and tank tops. “We’ll see you across the pond.” Howard called out above the rising noise of the crowd as they pushed off. The word “pond” struck an odd cord with Gail. The course across the “pond” would take them through the treacherous North Atlantic, not far from where the Titanic sank. ‘Pond my ass,’ she thought. She smiled and waved, and then taxied the Heineken through the channel leading out to the starting area. In an all too familiar scene, water craft of every size and sort buzzed the fleet. Crowds lined the shore beyond anyone’s expectation, thousands for sure but not the hundreds of thousands like the New Zealand send off. But still New Zealand had nothing over the US when it came to crazy boaters buzzing the fleet. It proved a bit of a distraction for Gail as she maneuvered about for the start. Adrienne called out the count down. Team Heineken found themselves jockeying with the Brookfield and Winston for their run to the starting line. Merritt from the foredeck cried out “Slow down!” as they came upon the line a

bit too soon. They crossed seconds before the gun. “We’re not restarting,” Gail yelled to the crew, waiting for instructions. Restarting would mean circling to cross the start line again. “We’ll take the penalty. Too many crazies in the water to attempt a restart,” she yelled to Leah and Geri. “Great we just started and we’re already ten minutes behind,” Gail mumbled to herself. Taking the penalty would mean ten minutes added to their time and one minute for every second past the line prior to the gun. Ten minutes in the grand scheme of things was really nothing. But, Gail was edgy after the Bryan event and complaining made her feel better. They could expect to see a variety of conditions in this final leg of the competition, every thing from doldrums to Southern Ocean like conditions. She never gave the ten minutes another thought. It was fairly peaceful as they sailed away from Florida. A few hours later they found themselves in the swift moving Gulf Stream. It would take them rapidly northeast, and if the usual conditions prevailed, northerly winds would push against the Gulf Stream direction bringing high seas and very unstable weather conditions. Then there was the North Atlantic where you can always encounter high seas and icy wind and water. The Pond had a lot to offer.

“I think they peeled off,” Gail said, from the nav station. “Brookfield?” Randi inquired, from her bunk while trying to hold on through the bumpy ride. “Yeah,” Gail replied. The Brookfield’s plan was now apparent. They would take the more direct route to England taking advantage of stronger weather systems. It was a good plan as long as the weather cooperated. Heineken would stay with the Gulf Stream to the North Atlantic then hopefully find the right weather pattern to take them full speed to England. The current weather predictions favored those who chose to go the northerly route. Only time would tell. For now, Brookfield had the advantage sailing at about 20 knots. The northerly route takers were all but stopped in light winds. It was very unusual for this stretch of

ocean. The usual murmuring started when second guessing was in play, but they all agreed on the route back in Fort Lauderdale. “They can’t blame you,” Geri said. “I’m not concerned. Look who’s with us,” Gail said, pointing to the latest Speed Made Good (SMG) report. You could tell who was in the area and experiencing the same conditions. “It’s the Winston, Interim, and Yamaha,” Gail exclaimed. They were the three overall leaders in the race. “Not bad company,” Gail said. “Hope they’re right about this route.” By the next day, a southwest wind began building. Weather reports indicated that this would be the big system they needed to get back in this race. The SMG report now showed Brooksfield, and those who chose the more direct easterly route, caught in a high pressure system that offered calm seas, light winds and plenty of sunshine. “This is what keeps me coming back,” Gail yelled from the helm. The Heineken slashed through the rough and tumble sea at record breaking speeds. Their sails filled with air pushed the Heineken along at 25 to 30 knots sending spray across the deck and crew. “Not the Southern Ocean.” Geri yelled, above the roar of the wind and surf. “No Ice.” “Yahoo,” Gail shouted in replied. With no boat issues and plenty of wind the crew was in good spirits. It was time to inform Merritt she had made the women’s Cup team and Randi she had not. The news lifted everyone’s spirits and brought the team closer even to console Randi who was not bothered by the news. Gail and Allison, once bitter rivals, now worked closely together deciding what strategy to follow given the weather systems forming around them. They would choose a more southerly route now to England breaking off from Yamaha and Interim Justitia still headed north. Their plan was to pick up stronger winds despite the greater risk of ice bergs. Gail would be happy just to move up one spot into 7th place ahead of Brooksfield, which was now mired in a mid-Atlantic high pressure system. The gap was closing. One system ed and another was approaching. Geri at the helm complained, “We need more wind.”

“It’s coming,” Leah replied. “It is?” Geri responded. “Gail and Allison have us lined up with a couple of big systems headed our way. Should be a fun ride,” Leah surmised. It was June 1st and Gail informed the crew June 5th was the anticipated finish date so long as current conditions prevailed and no major incidents occurred with the Heineken. The winds from the first low to cross their path picked up. Not once in the whole race had everything been going their way, with boat and crew working harmoniously together. They were on a course to set a new 24hour speed record for their team. It all seemed too good as Gail crawled into her bunk for her rest period. She had just sent off a wire to Howard in England saying how well everything was going. “Keep me posted.” Howard returned a wire. “I’ll be sleeping with the SatCom in my room.” He was as uncomfortable as Gail with how well everything was going. Now, in high seas and howling winds, they both feared what might await the weary crew and ship. It wasn’t long into the night when Gail was thrown from her bunk. “What the hell!” she screamed. “Are we on our side?” she said, pulling herself up as best she could on the tilted floor. She threw on her gear and headed up to the deck. “What’s going on?” Mandy called from her bunk. “I’m going to find out. Get dressed and find some safety gear,” Gail yelled to her and the others, a bit frantic to get above. She struggled up to the deck only to be shocked by the visualization of what she felt. The Heineken was indeed on her side in high seas. The crew was holding on for dear life. “What happened?” she yelled to Leah. “I think the rudder is gone. I heard a loud snap and I can’t get control. Gail quickly assessed the situation. The main sail had blown apart and Merritt

and Kaori were pulling it down. They cut it away and let it go out to sea. “Get the number 2 jib up,” she ordered. “We have to get this ship upright now,” she yelled. All hands were on deck and to starboard, and with a little help from the wind and jib, the Heineken righted herself. “Still no control,” Leah yelled. “Must be another damn rudder,” Gail cursed. “What do we do now?” Geri yelled to be heard. “I can’t check it now. We’ll have to jury rig something,” Gail yelled back. “Leah, can you keep us upright? I need half the crew below to figure this out,” she asked. “Yes, yes, go. Get this figured out,” she said. Gail and a good part of the crew headed below to brainstorm the situation. She quickly got on the SatCom with Howard to see if he could conference with Ben and Jarvis from the shore team. They were the experts. They could help. As he said he would, Howard slept next to the SatCom. He received Gail’s frantic call and immediately was able to reach Ben and Jarvis to explain the situation. “Heineken has blown another rudder,” he informed them. “They are in high seas facing 30 knot winds. They need to fabricate something and quickly. Any idea?” he urgently requested. “The first thing they need to do is to create some drag off the stern. It will give them some steerage,” Ben said. “How so?” Howard asked. “They can stream floatables off the stern,” he answered. Howard immediately wired the recommendation as a quick fix to help steer the boat while a solution was worked out.

“Gail,” he wired “You need to create drag off the stern of the boat using anything that floats, such as spare life jackets. Let me know you got this,” he concluded. He waited. No reply. “Goodness,” he whispered. An hour went by with no communication. “What do you suppose could have happen?” Howard asked Ben and Jarvis, still on the line. “Almost anything in those types of high seas,” Ben replied. “They could go sideways with no control and sink. That’s worst case he quickly added.” “It could be their SatCom went down or they’re just too busy fixing the problem,” Jarvis offered. “Can you stay on a bit longer?” Howard asked. “You bet, Howard,” they replied. Moments later Gail’s wire came through. They had fashioned a rudder out of the spinnaker pole and were going to attach it to the hull. She also mentioned that they streamed some floatables off the stern which gave them some steerage. “It sounds like they are going to cut through the hull to attach the makeshift rudder. Tricky business,” Ben replied, to Howard’s description of events. “It could work,” he concluded. “Thanks for staying on. This will take some time to complete. I’ll be in touch,” Howard ended the call. He could hardly sleep knowing the danger the team was facing. Hours went by, then suddenly Howard heard Gail’s voice over the VHF radio. “Howard, are you there?” her voice came in scratchy. “Yes, I’m here. So good to hear your voice,” he answered. “So good to have a voice,” she replied. “Well, we’re moving again under some control. We rigged the spinnaker pole to the hull but it won’t last long in these seas. We’ve reached out for some help. The Uruguay just happens to have a

spare rudder. We’re going to hook up with them. We’ve got to make it work. We need to finish this race under our own power,” she said. “You’ve done remarkably well under the circumstances. Our prayers are with you. I’ll be here 24/7 until you’re home. Keep me posted,” he replied. “Will do,” Gail said, g off. The rudder from the Uruguay was another jury rig at best. These things don’t come standard with every boat, and it wouldn’t get them through the tricky maneuvering in the English Channel. With no other options they had to call on the shore team to come install another rudder made for the Heineken. They had lost another two days. Instead of cruising in on the 5th of June ahead of the Brooksfield, it was now June 8th when the crippled but proud Heineken sailed across the finish line. Finally, their long and torturous journey was over. Their jubilation was muted as they realized they had finished last. New Zealand’s Endeavor won the Maxi-class division of the Whitbread. The newer larger ships designed for ocean sailing set a new record for the race around the world in a time of 120 days 5 hours. In the Whitbread class 60, Yamaha was the winner. The lighter faster 60 class ships had been standard for this race, but in the world of yacht racing things were always changing. Newer faster designs would continue to challenge the seas, the elements and the spirits of sailors, men and women alike. Today, however, the dejected spirits of the weary women’s crew lined the deck as they made their way through the dark to the docks. Again, their hearts were lifted as they neared the docks in Southampton. Cheering crowds, well-wishers, and fellow competitors turned out by the thousands to show their appreciation and recognition of the challenges the women had encountered and overcome. A day of rest and rejuvenation, media interviews, and goodbyes was all that was left. Everyone would go their separate ways. Gail wanted to go to Auckland. She tried to reach Bryan but to no avail. He wanted her there in person she concluded. ‘If I go I might never leave,’ she thought. ‘I just have to do this one last thing. He’ll understand. He’s got to understand.’

CHAPTER 13

THE TEAM

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“OK, we’re up to June 1st. The newly announced first ever women’s team to compete for the America’s Cup is now at the compound in San Diego ready to go,” I said. “Well, not quite. Gail and Merritt were finishing up the Whitbread, and Allison Turcott injured her back so we were lining up an alternate to replace her. Other than that, we were set to go, and we would continue our preparations just like we did in the tryouts, except we would focus more on the sailing aspect of the program,” Dan said. “When did you expect the full team would be in place? Didn’t you say you were entered in a regatta with the women’s team?” I asked. “Yes, I entered the team in the IACC World Championships in Newport Rhode Island at the end of July. It was important we got training started. I wasn’t worried about Gail or Merritt. They were battle hardened by the Whitbread. Merritt got here about a week before Gail. They both needed some intense R&R before taking on the Cup. I’d say we were at full strength first week of July. The Regatta was three more weeks out,” Dan said. “Can you run down the final team for me?” I asked. “It was fifteen years ago you ,” Dan said, struggling to recall the details. “I have a promo piece I’ll get to you with all the names and bios.”

“Great, thanks. When did you first feel you had something special happening? Was there an ‘I can’t believe it’ moment?” I asked. “There were a lot of aha moments along the way, but there was one in particular that put a smile on everyone’s face. But let me give you a little background first,” Dan said, as he began to spin a new tale.

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA June 1, 1994

“Hi, Dan. ” Vince greeted his boss as he entered his office at the compound. It was a rare visit and only the second time Dan had been out since he picked up the team in his company jet for media day back in March. “Hello, Vince. Nice to see you. How’s everything going?” Dan asked, extending his hand and flashing his disarming smile. “Couldn’t be better. The whole team is here and very eager to get started,” Vince informed him. “Are we all set for tonight?” Dan asked. “Yes, we are. We have a room reserved at your favorite spot,” Vince replied. “Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse?” Dan inquired. “Yes,” he confirmed. Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse served up the best filets and T-bone steaks in the country according to Dan. “Did Barbara make it?” Vince asked. “Yes, she went to the hotel to freshen up,” he replied.

“How many of the spouses made it?” Dan asked. “Last I checked almost all of them,” Vince answered. “Why don’t you and Ellie stop by the Ritz Carleton before dinner. I would love to catch up, and I’m sure Barbara would love some time with you and Ellie,” Dan suggested. Dan was very fond of Vince and Ellie and tried hard to make their economic differences a non-issue. Who after all could be friends with a billionaire except another billionaire? Dan, however, was not like that. He worked hard everyday. He had a great work ethic like Vince. They both had drive and determination and both were very likeable people. I guess you could say they had chemistry. It didn’t hurt that Ellie and Barbara had a lot in common. They both were from upper middle class backgrounds with a lot of social and civic interests, not to mention the bond of motherhood they shared. “Great. How about 5:30, then we can drive to Ruth’s together,” Vince offered. “Sounds like a plan,” Dan agreed. “Hey,” Vince piped in, changing the subject. “Did you hear about Gail’s situation in the Whitbread?” Vince asked. “No, what’s going on?” Dan asked a bit concerned. “We’ve been keeping tabs on her progress. She was doing really well with just a few days from the finish line. Then something happened this morning. It seems Heineken was on her side in the North Atlantic,” Vince related. “What?” Dan exclaimed, understanding the gravity of being on your side in high seas. “The last we heard they may have lost their rudder, but they were able to right the boat. Kirby is in touch with Howard Gibbons their shore team leader. He’ll keep us posted.” “Crazy race that Whitbread,” is all Dan could offer. He and Vince concluded their updates and met with the other UA3 management team. Dan took a quick tour of the facility, met a few of the women milling about, and chatted in his usual outgoing friendly way.

Most people departed early to make ready for the evening event.

Ritz Carleton Hotel San Diego, CA

Barbara answered the knock at the door to their suite to welcome Vince and Ellie. “Hello.” She happily greeted their guests, thrusting herself into Ellie’s open arms. They were both huggers so Vince, who was not, thought this would take a minute. He waited patiently in the doorway. They released their grip, and Barbara latched onto Vince who was more polite than enthusiastic about the hug, but nonetheless happy to see Barbara. “Hello, Ellie,” Dan said, entering the room. “It’s been awhile,” he said, as he approached Ellie with open arms. Dan was a hugger so, it was warm and genuine. “Oh, too long, Dan,” she said. “So good to see you and Barbara.” “Come on, let’s sit for a bit before we head out.” Dan directed them to a lounge area already set up with champagne cocktails for Barbara and Ellie, and a vintage single malt for he and Vince. Almost immediately they broke off into separate conversations as Dan and Vince began talking shop while Barbara and Ellie talked kids. “Anything new on Gail and her crew?” Dan asked. “Not much, just that they’re OK and trying to get back in the race with some sort of rigged rudder,” Vince replied. “I didn’t mention earlier that we have lined up the media we were hoping for. A local station came to the compound looking to meet the team. Brad knew the station manager, gave us some favorable press early last month so he invited them to our dinner tonight as we introduce the team.”

“Sounds good. They won’t be too much of a distraction, and the team will have their public unveiling,” Dan surmised. Shop talk done, they all conversed about family, friends, and other things in their lives. With only $10 billion separating them on the monetary scale, they fit well in friendship and spirit.

Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse San Diego, CA

The team arrived in two stretch limos and were escorted into a banquet room by Kirby and his wife. The news crew was setting up and everyone headed to the bar for cocktails and informal introductions. Aside from the core team, Dan didn’t know the rest of the team so he and Barbara took their time to meet each new member and learn as much as they could in the brief time they had. Kirby and Dick helped with the introductions since they were very well acquainted with all the team right down to how much they could bench press. The pre-arranged seating had 2 management team and their spouses seated with 5 team at each of the four circular tables. The news crew scanned the room taking in the casual conversations. As breaks allowed, they interviewed various team and UA3 management. Dinner was to everyone’s liking, and Dan was not surprised to see so many meat eaters among the team. He was a little surprised to see 14-ounce filets and 18-ounce T-bones disappear like they were appetizers. As dessert was being served, Vince came to the podium at the front of the room. “Good evening everyone. Please continue to enjoy your dessert. I do want to get started with our program aiming to formally recognize each member of our illustrious first time ever women’s team to vie for the America’s Cup.” Vince began, but paused for a hearty round of applause sprinkled with a few hoots and whistles. “I want to be as brief as possible as Kirby has reminded me that you all will be jogging off this wonderful meal at 6:30 tomorrow morning.” Vince again paused for laughter, murmurs, and a few sympathetic boos coming from UA3 spouses.

“Yes, I feel your pain so I will be sure to get everyone out of here by 9:30,” he promised. “Before I start I want to mention that two of our are not with us tonight. Gail Adley and Merritt Carson are somewhere in the North Atlantic struggling with a boat that keeps loosing its rudder. Last we heard they have rigged up something to keep in the race and finish under their own power. Our thoughts and prayers are with them tonight,” Vince said solemnly. “Ladies, you are indeed something special. Each of you is a champion in your own careers and endeavors and now part of an event that will be historical. As we all know with great opportunity comes great sacrifice. Some here will sacrifice career. Some will sacrifice time with family and loved ones. This is what you have chosen to do. It is what drives you and in the end will make you better and more fulfilled for having followed your dreams. Hopefully everyone will benefit in some way for the sacrifices you will be making in the coming months. I want to take the time now to introduce each member of the team. I would like each one as I call your name to come up to the podium and tell us a little about yourself. I know most of the management team knows who you are, but I want you to do this for your teammates, many of whom you’re only just getting to know.” Continuing, Vince asked, “Would the core team rise and come up here as a group.” The only four remaining core team to make the team made their way to the podium. “We have been together with this group of women since early March. Without their commitment to this program we would not be standing here today. Let’s start with you CJ. Step up here to the mike, and let your teammates know a little about yourself,” Vince said, as CJ came to the podium. “Hi everyone. I’ve gotten to know a few of you since this afternoon, and I really feel like we’ve been friends forever. I know we are in a little hurry so I’m from San Diego. I live here with my husband, Peter, and daughter, Grace. Peter is here with me tonight. Stand up, honey.” She pointed to her table. Peter reluctantly stood and waved. “Grace is at home with my mom and dad. I’ve been sailing since I was a child. I’ve sailed in international regattas both here and abroad. Like some others here, I participated in the Barcelona Games in 92 where I won a bronze medal. I look forward to getting to know all of you a lot better. Thank you.”

“Hi, my name is Allison Townson. I was going to be a sail trimmer on the team but I injured my back. I will be working with management promoting you guys around the country. Thank you, Vince and Mr. Cook, for letting me be a part of this event.” Allison stepped back to a round of applause as Vince stepped up to the mike again. “I didn’t want Allison to short change herself. She was also an Olympic rower and has won over twenty rowing titles in her career. She will be missed as a crew member, but I feel very valuable as a team member promoting the women’s team across America. Thank you, Allison,” Vince said, to another round of applause. The rest of the core team stepped up to introduce themselves and provide some insight into their personal lives and sailing background. It was very beneficial towards helping the team feel a real connection to each other. “And now, I would like to introduce the newest of the team. Stephanie, let’s start with you,” Vince said. “Hi my name is Stephanie Morrow. I am very grateful to be given this opportunity to be a part of Cup racing history. As many or I guess all of you know by now I don’t have a sailing background. I was selected I guess because of my background as a world class weight lifter. I know I can make a contribution to the success of the team,” Stephanie concluded. “Amy Bradon,” Vince announced next, and so it went for each member coming up to give a glimpse of their ion for competing and their gratitude for being selected to the team. All in all the team had a perfect blend of big boat race experience, strength at the right positions, ion for sailing, and much to Dan’s credit, a positive attitude and team spirit. Dan then said a few words. “You can all keep working on those desserts while I say a few words,” Dan began in his usual charming way. “This has been a dream of mine for a long time. At times I felt it would never happen. Was it too much to accomplish in so short a time? Could we find the right people to do the job? As it turns out I had the best management team I could hope for working on this project, and I have to recognize them here tonight for all their hard work, ion, and commitment

to this project. Will the UA3 management team please stand up.” Dan waved them up with his out stretched arms to the applause of all in the room. “In case I didn’t say thank you, thank you guys and gals for all you have done to make this happen,” Dan said, as the team sat down. “Tomorrow, ladies you’ll be starting on a journey that will take you where no other women’s team has gone before. By all s you are the best of the best in women’s sailing. As a team you have all of the elements needed to not only compete for the Cup but actually win it. That is our goal. That is what we will be training for. Win or lose you will have made history. But win and you will have made history no one will forget. You have it all. Work hard, stay positive and you will succeed. Good luck to all of you.” The night wound down and ended just before 9:30. Did you get everything you needed?” Vince asked the news team now packing up their gear. “I think so,” Jeff Mathias, news producer for WSDN Channel 9 replied. “We’ll be running this story on our morning news if we can get it ready, and again at 6:00pm. It’s possible one of the networks might pick up the story. There’s a lot of interest in this team.” “Yes, there is and we’re just getting started. We’ll be watching. Let me know if there is anything else you need,” Vince replied.

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA June 2, 1994

Everyone knew the routine. An air of excitement filled the camp on this first day of training with the final team in place. Each facet of the program was undertaken with great fervor. They were very easy to coach, eager to learn, and ive of one another. With the morning jog and breakfast over, the team assembled in the conference room. All of the coaches and trainers were present,

and it had the feel of something new about to happen. “Good morning, come on in and take a seat,” Buddy directed. All of the seats were empty as management stood along the perimeter of the room. They quieted more quickly than usual, sensing something was happening. “We want to start this morning by asg each of you to one of the two racers we’ll be training on. I know we told you we would not be asg positions yet and we aren’t. But we have a race coming up the end of July, and we need to start trying out different combinations to see what works best. It’s early so don’t feel one team has any advantage over another. The two teams are A Team and B Team. Each day we will post who will be sailing with each team and what position you will be working. United America will be the A Team yacht and Corsa the B Team yacht. We will start today. I have posted the teams on the board in the back of the room. Any questions,” Buddy asked, looking around the table. “Buddy,” CJ called, raising her hand. “Will you be naming a skipper for either one of the teams?” she asked. “Well, you know how we feel about designating a skipper. We want more of a team mentality onboard. We will ask several of you to take the helm and work on the afterguard. But we won’t designate a skipper,” Buddy replied. “And for those of you not familiar with the term afterguard, it’s the tactical team on board. It consists of the navigator, helmsman, and tactician.” “Will the A Team be the team to make and race in the trials?” Leah asked. “Yes, Leah. The A Team will be the 1st squad. You all know the racers can only have 16 onboard and with 28 of you there has to be a back up team. We don’t have a clue yet who will be on the final A Team,” Buddy astutely answered. He moved on amidst the low rumblings of the team. “What we will be looking at today and for the rest of the week are IACC regattas,” Buddy said, while starting the tapes. The International America’s Cup Class races are high level competitions and draw top crew’s from around the world. On July 23, 1994, the IACC would host their world championship event in Newport Rhode Island. The women’s team

would be there and they would be ready. The films as usual provided the fodder for strategy discussions. Seeing how the top male crews in the world set up in the pre-start raised good questions on tacking, timing, and position. At the end of the session the women headed straight for the postings on the board at the rear of the room. At the helm on the A Team was CJ, while Leah took this position on the B Team. And while management tried not to make a fuss over this position, everyone felt the A Team helm would be the women’s team skipper. “Congratulations, CJ,” Leah said softly. Her voice was sweet, but you could swear there was something sinister in it. “We’re just starting out, it doesn’t really mean anything,” CJ replied quite out loud. “Besides, Gail is probably the one who will be at the helm,” she said, walking away. “We’ll see about that,” Leah said under her breath. By late morning the teams assembled at the docks to board Corsa and United America. Each team had 13 crew and 4 coaches to evaluate and assist the women at each position. CJ, Buddy, and Liz worked the afterguard on United America and Leah, Don and Christie on Corsa. CJ watched Don and Leah have a private conversation onboard Corsa as they were being towed out to the practice area. “Are you alright?” Buddy asked her. “You seem in a fog,” he said. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, still not sure what was bothering her about Leah. It’s not like they were total strangers. CJ and Leah met during the 92 Olympics where Leah rowed for the New Zealand team. Although she was born in the US she had dual citizenship with New Zealand having lived there most of her life. It was curious to CJ that she would sail for the US as New Zealand was notoriously zealous when it came to their sailing team. It was a huge source of national pride. There was also some hearsay that the New Zealand team headed for the Euro trials said they would not sail against the women’s team if they became the US challenger. CJ tried hard to keep all this from being a distraction. She did keep it in the back of her mind. Each crew practiced their pre-start setup tacking and circling before attacking the starting line. CJ was masterful and authoritative with her commands and timing. The grinder position was also being closely monitored as it was a strength

position. Whether the women could match the men at this position was a question that needed to be answered. The grinders worked along side the trimmers to shape the sails for maximum speed and performance. After two hours of practice it was time for a challenge between A Team and B Team. The start line was 300 hundred yards windward and the countdown began. CJ and Leah directed their crews halfway down the course and circled back. With two minutes to the gun they had to determine how far to circle before tacking towards the starting line. They both seemed to know the right timing as they came about almost simultaneously. CJ maneuvered for the starboard lane as she felt there was more of a breeze and a better advantage over Leah. “Do you want to pull back a bit on the jib?” Buddy asked. “No, it feels good right now,” she replied, eyeing the main sail. “Tacking,” she yelled, as the boom came across the deck. “Give me less tension on the main,” she called, and the grinders immediately lowered the main a touch. She glanced back at B Team. They were keeping up but not responding as well to Leah’s commands. Timing would be an issue for the debriefing tonight. “Don,” Buddy called on the two-way. “Yeah, buddy,” he answered. “Let’s take her down to the leeward mark and back,” he requested. “Sure, it will give us a chance to catch up,” he quipped. “Go for it,” Buddy challenged. The starting gun sounded with Team A two boat lengths in front. The marker was one mile windward. “We’re taking it to the leeward marker today,” Buddy informed CJ and then the rest of the crew. “Keep doing what you’re doing, CJ, and when we get near the marker you know what to do.” “We have to prepare for a spinnaker set. You know we have not done this before as a team, this team I mean. It could get messy,” she informed Buddy.

“I know, but we have to start somewhere and we have some experienced guys onboard to help us through it,” Buddy assured her. United America was the faster of the two boats and maintained a good lead of about 4 boat lengths. “She’s on your port, but you still have the right of way,” Buddy told CJ. The team was in position with spinnaker on deck ready to pounce at the turn. “Adjust your angle a little,” Buddy advised CJ. She was coming into the mark a little too tight. “If you touch the mark we have to circle and come around again. You should come in about a boat length above the layline. Let the sails out evenly as you make your turn. Once they hook up the spinnaker and attach the pole to the mast you will determine how high to set it,” Buddy instructed her. “Got it,” CJ replied taking it all in. It was more of a refresher as she had done this before. She rounded the mark a little wider than necessary being more cautious on her first try with UA3. “Get moving on the jib,” CJ yelled. The crew sprang into action lowering the jib and hooking the halyard to the spinnaker. The pole was set, the sheets were attached, the jib was stowed, and the grinders went to work hoisting the spinnaker. It almost immediately filled with air from the 15 knot winds. It was just what the coaches wanted to see. UA3 surged forward at a comfortable 10 knots. Corsa was just rounding the mark and now 10 lengths behind. Their spinnaker set didn’t go as well as UA3’s. Lines got tangled inside the shrouds and the grinders were a bit slower. Corsa finally got the spinnaker up but with little hope of catching UA3. All in all, it was a good practice, yielding much to discuss during the debriefing.

Enersys Corporation

Interview with Dan

“So it looked like your A Team was pretty evident from the start,” I surmised. “Well it wasn’t as simple as that. Things actually got complicated,” Dan replied. “With that first win under her belt, CJ got a lot of confidence and really wanted to assert herself as skipper. We weren’t ready to do that. We tried other combinations on each yacht and when things didn’t go quite her way, CJ was a tyrant. This affected the team’s spirit. But both she and Leah were very talented onboard so we worked them together to see if they would make a good afterguard. CJ would do the pre-start and Leah would take the helm during the race. Their talents lined up that way. But it was a disaster. They couldn’t agree on tactics and they couldn’t be any more different when it came to communication style. Leah was a consensus builder and CJ was more authoritarian. And we hadn’t even added Gail to the mix yet,” Dan explained. “What about Gail,” I asked. When did she the team. “She finally finished the Whitbread. It was kind of a disaster for her and the women’s team. They just couldn’t keep a rudder on that boat. So, they limped into Southampton around the 7th or 8th of June. She took a week or so to recuperate and put on some of the 20 pounds she had lost. She was back with us towards the end of June,” Dan recalled. “How did she fit in since the team was already working together for almost a month by that point?” I asked. “Well, she hit the ground running. She knew our management and our philosophy, and she was the best sailor onboard. She had no trouble getting up to speed.”

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA June 22, 1994

“Vince, got a minute?” Kirby asked, sticking his head in the always opened doorway. “Sure, come on in,” he replied. Kirby obliged, stepping through the doorway with Gail Adley behind him. Vince was surprised at first as it had been two years since he last saw her. “Gail, I wasn’t expecting you till next week,” he said, reaching out to hug her. “Yeah, long story but I felt I needed to get out here and start training,” she replied. “It’s good to have you here. We had some concerns towards the end. Something about Heineken being on her side somewhere in the North Atlantic,” Vince recounted. “Oh yeah, that. Well, we were all concerned too, but it’s funny how you don’t feel the fear when you’re too busy trying to save your life,” she quipped. They laughed. “I take it you haven’t been to the living quarters yet,” Vince surmised as he saw her bags just outside the door. “No she hasn’t,” Kirby answered. “We have her bunking with Merritt who I’m sure will be happy to see you. “Oh, wonderful. OK, I should let you guys get back to work,” she said. “I’ll walk you over,” Kirby said, picking up her bags. “Good to see you, Gail,” Vince said, as they departed. The women’s team finished their morning sailing session and was in a downtime period usually used for taking care of personal business or just napping. “I’m going to scoot,” Kirby said, setting Gail’s bags down at her door.

He was a little anxious to leave before an embarrassing moment occurred involving naked women walking to their rooms from the common bathing area. “OK, see you later,” she replied, then knocked on the door out of courtesy. “Gail, what a surprise.” Merritt happily greeted her. “Hi, Merritt. How’s it going?” she asked fondly. Both were not huggers, so an awkward moment occurred as they quickly embraced and let loose, formality over. “Great, just, well good, real good,” she answered, with an obvious lack of conviction. “Ok, tell me what’s going on,” Gail said, as they entered the room closing the door behind them. “It’s kinda like when we sailed from Punta the first time,” Merritt began. “What, how can it be that bad?” Gail hoped there was some mistake in what she heard. “Well, I said kind of like. There’s no real authority. Everything is done by consensus. There’s no real leader,” she explained. “Are the coaches seeing this?” Gail asked. “They’re part of the problem. It’s this whole teamwork philosophy UA3 is dedicated to. But without leadership and authority coming from the team, we’re missing a lot of opportunities,” she replied. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here. Everyone actually will be glad to see you, except maybe CJ Islin and Leah Evers. “Let me guess, they are at the helm,” Gail commented. “Yes, and it’s not that they do a bad job, they just don’t see eye to eye on anything, and CJ really loses it when things don’t go her way,” Merritt explained.

“I see what you mean about Punta. Thanks for the heads up. I don't want to walk into this and be blindsided. I think I better talk with Kirby before I get onboard. See what the strategy should be so things don’t get worse,” Gail contemplated. “We sail again in about an hour, so you better make it quick,” Merritt informed her. Gail unpacked and headed right to Kirby’s office. “Kirby,” Gail called in from his office door. “Gail, settled in already?” he asked. “Yeah, do you have a minute?” “Sure, come on in, have a seat.” “I wanted to talk to you about my role onboard United America. I know you see me as one of your more experienced sailors, but I’m not sure how much authority you want me to exercise given the whole teamwork concept you have going.” “I see Merritt has filled you in on things. I think it’s good that we have this conversation now before you get onboard. It’s true, there have been some leadership and personality issues. But we’re still trying different combinations hoping to solve this before taking more drastic measures,” Kirby informed her. “Kirby, trying different combinations isn’t going to fix anything,” Gail said, more forcefully than she planned. “I mean you do need leadership. You can’t win or even compete well by consensus. Believe me I know first hand,” she said, relating in her mind the first two legs of the Whitbread. “What do you propose?” Kirby asked, in his usual calm demeanor. “People here know me. They know my background and experience. I think they know how I can contribute. The main problem, and I’ll reserve judgment until I see it for myself, is in the afterguard. If I can rotate at the helm with CJ and Leah, and spend time on deck with the crew I think I can provide the leadership needed without undermining the teamwork concept at play here,” she offered.

“That sounds like a great plan. We all thought you would want the helm full time, but we knew we needed you elsewhere as well. I think this will work. From what I’m hearing everyone respects what you and what you have done and the experience you bring to the team. Let me cover this approach with Buddy and Vince. I’m sure they’ll agree. We can all meet briefly before we sail this afternoon,” Kirby concluded feeling some relief. The crew welcomed Gail with open arms and a lot more hugging than she could bear. Her role, as Kirby explained it, was very well received. Kirby hoped the onboard issues would soon fade away.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“So, didn’t she take over as skipper?” I asked. “No, not exactly. We still tried to follow our team approach. CJ and Leah, while they had their differences, got the job done alternating at the helm. Gail’s experience was needed for sure so we created a fourth position in the afterguard. Now we had a helmsman, tactician, navigator, and Gail who worked from the pit keeping an eye on everything that was happening. She also rotated at the helm when needed. We gave her a lot of authority and flexibility but never named her as skipper,” Dan said. “It took a while to get this new configuration working well but with the IACC World Championship coming up we had to really focus with the A Team now in place and Gail at her new position in the pit,” Dan concluded. “The pit?” I asked. “Yes, it’s located just forward of the helm and sunken a little in front of the main mast,” Dan informed me. “Who did you face at the IACC World Championship?” I asked. “Well, a lot of teams from around the world, but what really interested us was

that all three US syndicates including Stars & Bars, with you know who, at the helm, would be there,” Dan responded.

San Diego Yacht Club San Diego, CA Thursday June16, 1994

Devon Cahill strolled into the San Diego Yacht Club at 12:30 on a Thursday afternoon. He blew by the hostess with a wink and a smile, and greeted a number of diners with a cheery hello, a pat on the back, or nods of recognition as he made his way to his private sea-view table. He sat down across from a somewhat bemused friend and colleague, Carl Johnson. “They love you, they really, really love you,” Carl said, barely able to keep a straight face. “I’ll have JW Black on the rocks. ” Devon told the over attentive waiter who followed him to his table. “Right away, Mr. Cahill,” the waiter replied, filling his water glass. “Yes they do,” Devon replied, now addressing Carl’s comment. What he didn’t say was “and why not?” It was Devon, after all, sailing for the San Diego Yacht Club that put the club on the map with a convincing victory over the Australians in ‘87 to win back the Cup, an important part of America’s Cup racing history. It did not matter that he lost to Dan Cook in the ‘92 Cup, he still garnered their affection. Devon, in a rare display of selflessness, offered his time and expertise to club and youths providing sailing lessons. It didn’t hurt that he was just back from skippering the Winston in the grueling Whitbread Race Around the World, an event in which he finished fourth. He also managed to grab some headlines as the crew responsible for saving the crippled Brooksfield from the treacherous grip of the Southern Ocean. “Mike Berle sends his regards,” Carl said. This was good to hear as Mike had

been Team Cahill’s biggest er. Now that a new challenge was on the horizon it was good to know Mike was keeping in touch. “Good that he knows we are meeting today. Is he going to be onboard with us for next year’s trials?” Devon queried. “Already signed him up. He is still a staunch er,” Carl cheerfully reported, as the waiter arrived with their lunch. “I took the liberty of ordering your usual,” Carl said. “Great, thanks. I’ll have another one of these, waiter,” he said pointing to his empty glass. “By the way, did you hear Dan Cook has put together a women’s team?” Carl asked casually. “What?” Devon exclaimed, somewhat surprised by the news despite the fact that UA3 management was given permission by the SDYC to enter a women’s team in the trials. “Was he serious about that?” Devon said, again showing his surprise. “Very much so my source tells me. He has had a management team in place, and they’re gaining a lot of . There was a big media event, mid-March. Training camp is set up just down the road,” Carl replied, all too calmly. The way Carl put it “my source” suggested something clandestine to Devon, it started his wheels turning. “Who do we know over there?” Devon asked, as if he had a plan of his own regarding the women’s team. “Don Davies. You him?” Carl offered. “Yes, of course. Don was our sail trimmer in ’87,” Devon recounted. “What’s he doing with UA3?” “He’s doing a little work with the new recruits they’re trying out, and he’s friends with some of the key UA3 management people. Nothing permanent,”

Carl related. “Why does he have your ear?” Devon asked. “Well, we’ve kept in touch over the years. He called to ask me if we have started putting together our team for ’95 and if there was a spot available. I told him very possibly. You know with his experience he would be a good tactician or he could at least help us with coaching,” Carl responded. “Let me ask you this,” Devon said, in a low voice. “Do you think he would have any information he could share on how things are going over there?” “You mean spy on UA3 for us?” Carl responded in a normal voice, prompting Devon to look around to see who was in ear shot. “No, not like corporate espionage. Just keep an eye on things and let us know how it’s going,” Devon said, still in a quiet voice. “I think he might. He is as traditional as it gets when it comes to sailing. He’s very disappointed that Dan won’t defend the Cup in a traditional way. And a women’s team? He’s very upset about the idea,” Carl said, now in a quieter voice. “Why don’t you him and see if he’s willing to share some information, although I don’t think we’ll need an unusual angle to defeat a bunch of bitches in the Cup, but it won’t hurt to know what Cook is up to,” Devon said, revealing his fear of Cook rather than the women’s team. “I’ll make the call. Well, I’ve been in with our potential crew and staff. Almost everyone has been keeping in shape and will be ready to get started on schedule next month with training. We are signed up for the Newport thing if you ,” Carl reported. “The IACC Regatta,” he added, to answer the quizzical look on Devon’ face. “Oh yeah, great. You think we’ll be ready? How’s Stars & Bars holding up?” Devon asked. “She’s in rehab now and looking good. Mike has spotted us the funds to rebuild her keel and rudder. And for your information Stars & Bars 95 will start construction next week. Your input is expected. It should be an interesting design

Lars has put together. And yes, we will be ready,” Carl said. “Can’t wait to see her,” Devon said fondly of his favorite lady.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“OK, so the A Team was set and all systems were ready for the regatta at Newport. Can you take me through a little of that event?” I asked, sensing things were heating up for the women’s team. “Sure, we flew everyone to Newport. It was a good break for the team. Everyone had been on a punishing schedule for the last 6 weeks. It was going to be fun and a good chance to see what they could do against the men. There were quite a few teams in various classes entered for the event. It was the Sesquicentennial Regatta marking the 150-year anniversary of the New York Yacht Club. But it was not a very good coming out party for the women. That was mostly my fault, though. I chose not to fly the United America out for the race. Instead I had the Matador delivered from a nearby storage unit. Matador is my Maxi class boat. It took time getting used to it before they could sail it at its full potential. I put them at a distinct disadvantage from the start and we finished last in our class. There were some bright spots, though. We began to see some combinations that were working well. We felt we had a strong afterguard with Gail, CJ, and Leah rotating at the helm.” “Wasn’t Devon Cahill in that regatta?” I asked. “Yes, the world got to see first hand what an ass he was even though Stars & Bars acquitted themselves very well in the regatta. I even hosted an event honoring his team,” Dan said reminiscently.

Newport Harbor Inn

Newport, RI July 30, 1994

“Tell me why we’re here again,” Kirby asked Vince, as they walked into the Harbor Inn’s large banquet hall. Tables were sparsely scattered about with seating for ten. There was also standing room at high top tables more suited to the appetizer/drink menu and for talking and moving about. The party was to honor the accomplishments, both past and present, of the crew and the racing yacht Stars and Bars. “It’s a party, Kirby. That’s all. Let’s just enjoy our host’s graciousness,” Vince replied, in a patronizing tone. They both felt the awkwardness of honoring Stars & Bars but only because of Devon Cahill’s association with it. He had been very outspoken against the women’s team and putting him in such close proximity to the women with no stretch of ocean between them could be problematic. Nonetheless, it was what Dan wanted to do to demonstrate his civility. “Good evening gentleman.” Dan greeted Vince and Kirby as they approached. “Hi, Dan,” they responded, taking a flute of champagne offered by the over attentive waiter. “Nice turnout,” Vince observed. “I see we are well represented,” Dan replied, looking over the women’s team in small groups conversing with old acquaintances and of other teams. “I told you there would be nothing to worry about,” Dan said reassuringly to Vince. “I hope you’re right, but the night is still young,” Vince replied, with a touch of laughter in his tone to keep the conversation light. “When will you be speaking?” Vince asked. “In about a half hour. Try some of this lobster cocktail. Fresh from Maine,” Dan said, hailing the nearby waiter. Appetizers and drinks kept pouring into the crowd of nearly 300 guests. Small groups, large groups, old friends, and new acquaintances gathered about the

open room. The women’s team had many well wishers and some detractors. Devon also had a following around him, all with their blue blazers and single malt scotch. Yes, it was the boy’s club gathered around their leader to hear his sailing stories and crude jokes. His boorish behavior whether intended or not was felt by many of the women nearby. “Good evening ladies and gentleman.” Dan’s voice boomed over the loud speakers. A waiter came up quickly as Dan fumbled for a dial to tone down the volume. “Is that better,” he asked, more of a test than a question. “Good evening again and thank you all for coming out on this beautiful night. We are here as you know to recognize the accomplishments of the crew and their craft, Stars & Bars.” Dan began his remarks even while Devon continued his ranting near the middle of the room. “You might want to pay attention, Devon. He’s telling everyone what a gentleman and sportsman you are,” Annie Nelson of the women’s team said, slipping into Devon’s circle. Devon, now pretty much over the limit, quieted himself suddenly as if he didn’t realize he was being rude. Dan continued his remarks, highlighting their accomplishments particularly, Devon’s, as he was the most recognized name in yachting. When he was done, he asked all present to raise their glasses and toast the skipper and crew of America’s Stars & Bars. Dan stepped down from the podium. Devon, for years, had only been superficially friendly with Dan. He still resented this pseudo sailor for beating him in the ’92 trials. Never mind that Dan went on to actually win the Cup, he had no business being in the race to begin with. And now a women’s team! It was all coming to a head. It started in his little circle. He wasn’t quiet, careful, or thoughtful about what he was saying. “What do you think the chances are for the women’s team in the Cup trials,” one of the groupies asked. “Women’s team in the Cup,” he blurted out. “You saw how well that bunch of lesbos did in the regatta, didn’t you,” Devon bellowed, much to the astonishment of those around him.

“Devon!” Annie exclaimed. “After all the nice things Mr. Cook had to say about you, and all you can do is insult his Cup team,” she onished him, with most of the room now tuned in. Devon, feeling cornered, lashed out like any trapped animal would. “Wait for it.” A bemused Kirby whispered to Vince standing nearby the action. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but knew it would be good. “No bunch of lesbos is going to win the Cup as long as I’m sailing,” he slurred. Having all she could stand, Annie poured her full drink over his head. She turned and walked out as Devon stood frozen for a moment amidst the murmuring and laughter. “Can I get a scotch with that water?” he quipped, smiling as though he had won something. Vince looked over to Dan with an ‘I told you so’ kind of glance. “Well, he had it coming,” Dan responded to the unspoken remark.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“It’s like the gauntlet had been thrown down,” I remarked. “Very much so. The women really channeled their anger into action. They were committed more than ever to defeat him now,” Dan replied. “What did you feel you had to do since you finished last in the Regatta?” I questioned. “We all felt the women were better than that finish indicated. Like I said, I put them on a strange boat in a world class event. A better test and indication of their ability would come in the San Diego Regatta. It would be like having home field advantage on a yacht they were familiar with,” Dan answered.

“Would this be the last event before the trials began?” I asked. “Yes, we trained hard right up to the event which began end of October and went through November 5th. The trials began on January 13th,” Dan replied. “What happened in the San Diego Regatta?” I was curious to know more. “It was another IACC event but we competed with America’s Cup class yachts. Two of the teams had new yachts so we were up against the latest technology,” Dan replied. “Who was in the race?” I asked. “All three US syndicates participated again. You see the IACC World Championship is like a prep for the America’s Cup. Stars & Bars was there and PACE 95. Both, however, did not sail with their Cup yacht. Young America was still under construction, and Stars & Bars ’95 was ready to go but Devon didn’t want to show his cards too soon. We decided to use Corsa instead of United America so we could do some rehab before the trials began.” “Was Corsa a good move?” I asked. “As it turns out it was a good move. We won the final heat, first time a women’s team ever won an IACC event. And we came in a respectable 3rd place overall. Devon said it didn’t matter and nobody cares who wins the IACC World Championship. Probably because he finished 5th out of 7. The women did real well,” Dan recounted fondly. “So, you felt you were well on your way to being ready for the trials? What was left to do?” I asked. “We had a laundry list of stuff we wanted to work on. We kept up our daily drills and strength training and focused more on strategies to use and guard against,” Dan said in a suggestive tone, emphasizing the latter. “That sounded a bit sinister. Was there something going on?” I asked.

“Well, there was a lot of speculation, rumors, and accusations, but nothing we could prove.” “What was it all about?” I asked, now very curious. “It seems there was a conspiracy theory gaining ground. I’ll fill you in as best I can from the stories I heard. Again, it started with Cahill and his syndicate,”Dan began to relate.

San Diego Yacht Club San Diego, CA November 10, 1994

Three men sat off in a corner with no one within 20 feet of their table in the Yacht Club’s dining room. Devon made sure their privacy would be honored. Carl, his close friend and syndicate manager, and Mike Berle sat with Devon. Their conversation was quite animated and Devon was obviously flustered. “I’m telling you it doesn’t matter. No one cares who wins these races,” Devon reiterated to his colleagues regarding his poor performance in the IACC World Championship. Perhaps it was more about the excellent performance of the women’s team that was most disconcerting to Mike and Carl. “Devon, we’ve known each other for a lot of years. You know I ire and respect what you have accomplished. But if this is another case of complacency, then you better snap out of it before we find ourselves loosing to a bunch of, how did you put it, oh yeah, lesbos,” Mike said forcefully. The lesbos reference was designed to let Devon know he might be taking the women’s team too lightly. “Alright guys,” Carl piped in as the voice of reason and restraint. “When it’s go time, I’m sure we’ll have our A game in tact. But for now, we could use a little help. I have been having an occasional conversation with our friend, Don Davies. I’m keeping it really light and friendly. He’s been working with the

women’s team. He told me how things were going in general but as I pressed him a little he mentioned they were having some issues with the afterguard. They were weak on experience,” Carl said, as if revealing a secret. “Oh, hell Carl. Everyone knows that. We don’t need Don to tell us what we already know,” Devon blurted out in frustration. “Let me finish,” Carl insisted. “He’s been working with their B Team crew and got to know their helmsman, Leah Evers, pretty well. Turns out Leah’s from New Zealand or at least her mother is a native New Zealander. He’s not sure where her loyalties lie so he’s paying close attention to her team dynamics. He thinks Leah is really trying to undermine CJ Islin, their A Team helmsman. She has now moved into a co-helmsman position with her. Don thinks Leah is trying to get her kicked off the team,” Carl related. “How so?” Mike asked. “CJ is loud and bossy, just the opposite of what Cook is trying to do with the team. You know his style, he doesn’t want a skipper or one person in authority. He wants to do everything by consensus. So, Leah takes every opportunity to bring out CJ’s worst qualities,” Carl related. “Hell, Carl, how does that help us win at the trials?” Mike protested. “CJ is their best helmsman and tactician. If she goes because she’s too disruptive, that leaves Leah as the next in line, and as I said we’re not sure where her loyalties lie.” Carl surmised. “What about Gail Adley? I thought she would be the A team helmsman,” Devon interjected. “Get this, they have her working the pit,” Carl replied. “Maybe her last place finish in the Whitbread was for a reason,” Devon quipped. “So, what’s our next move?” Mike pressed on. “Don is going to suggest to Leah that she should be the helmsman and to keep working for that goal. He said he is leaving his position soon as they don’t need him now that the A Team is in place and strategy meetings are their main focus.

Not much more we can do except wait for the melt down,” Carl concluded. “Who let these bitches in the trials anyway?” Mike growled. “We did,” Carl confessed. “I guess we really didn’t think they would come this far,” he lamented.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“Was any of this apparent to the team or management?” I asked, wondering how it was possible that all this could go undetected. “It didn’t get our attention until well into the trials when Leah suggested to Buddy and Kirby that we replace CJ with Don Davies. It caught us by surprise that she would make such a suggestion, but it was obvious we lacked the experience in the afterguard. We all felt we could win as we were very close in most of our races. We were never really blown away by the men. We dismissed the idea at first. But we kept losing. By the time we got to the semi-finals, we had won only 5 of 20 races,” Dan related. He became uncomfortable for the first time during the interview. “You made it into the semi-finals after winning only 5 races? Can you explain a little how the trials worked,” I asked, a bit confused. “It’s confusing alright. There are a lot of races when you have three contenders involved. It’s a round robin format. There were four sets of round robin races. In the first set each victory is worth one point. In the second set wins are 2 points and in the 3rd set wins are worth 3 points. Wins in the last set are worth 7 points. This allows you to make adjustments in the early races without loosing too much ground. The winner of the round robin carries 2 points into the semi-finals and the runner up takes one point forward. Everyone makes it into the semi-finals and only the two top crews should make it into the finals. I’ll explain what happened there later. You need to know some background on how we got to the finals,” Dan said.

CHAPTER 14

MIGHTY MARY

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA February 10, 1995

The conference room was buzzing with numerous conversations taking place among the women seated around the table while they waited for the coaches and management to arrive. Their delay was due to their own strategy meeting taking place in Vince’s office. Something had to be done. The women were losing and they needed to find a way to reverse the trend. Management had decided to make some changes and this is what the meeting would be about. They entered the room with Vince, Buddy, and Kirby going to the front of the room. The conversations the women had been having slowly eased. It didn’t escape management’s attention that some of the conversations were somewhat heated. Many of the debriefings had been stressful. The team wanted to win so badly that every mistake became a finger pointing opportunity. Nerves were frazzled, blame was abundant, and the once binding team spirit was coming undone. “Ladies,” Vince said, and paused a moment till he had everyone’s attention. “Good morning. First, let me say on behalf of the whole management team you’re doing a good job. None of our losses have been a blowout. You have been very competitive through these first two rounds. But now the point values go up and we have to start winning more. So, we have decided to make some changes that we feel will benefit the team. We are going forward with the construction of a new racing yacht. It is quite apparent that our competitor’s new yachts are fast. We should have our new yacht here before the start of the last set of round robin races, which you all know are worth 7 points per win.”

Vince paused again as the women absorbed this news happily. “We are also going to make a change in the afterguard. We won’t be rotating the helm position like we have been doing. Leah will man the helm, Gail will work the pit but have more flexibility and command over the entire crew, and CJ will be our full-time tactician. Our timing has been a big issue, and I believe the main reason we have lost a couple of close races. We feel these changes will help with the timing issues we have been experiencing. Any questions?” Vince asked. The room was surprisingly quiet and still. “OK, let’s get to work,” he said, turning the meeting over to Buddy, who discussed issues from the past races and strategies going forward. Vince and Kirby left the room to get each other’s take on the meeting. “Gail seemed to be nodding in agreement with the changes,” Kirby observed. “Not surprising. I think she knows where she is most needed. Her commanding the crew may be just what we need to turn things around. I’ve got to get on a call with Eric to discuss some modifications to the new yacht. Catch up with you later,” Vince said, heading back to his office.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“How did the new line up work?” I asked. “Better,” Dan replied. “We were still loosing but we closed the gap considerably. Our five loses in the third round totaled less than eight minutes overall. CJ working as the tactician was still a problem and the boat speed needed to be better. We were taking care of the speed issue with the new racer, but CJ would be a more difficult issue to solve,” Dan confessed.

Bradley Air Base Windsor Locks, CT February 22, 1995

Even as the women’s team was losing another race to Young America by just over one minute, their new racing yacht was being loaded onto a giant Russian Antanov cargo plane at Bradley Airport in Connecticut. Wrapped in a protective skin, it was hard to know what beauty and design enhancements lie beneath. The giant Antanov with its front end lifted up seemed to swallow the cargo into its belly. The front end of the plane then slowly closed like the jaws of some massive beast. The beast would, however, deliver its cargo safely to San Diego where it would find its way to the North Harbor Compound. “They’re pulling into the compound now,” an excited Kirby said, rushing past Vince’s office. Vince immediately got up and followed him out to the harbor gate. An 18-wheel flatbed was being directed by Pete through the gates leading out to the dock. The new yacht had arrived. Gail and Annie were the first out of the compound, followed closely by Merritt and Leah. Soon, all the crew and staff were present to greet their hope of redemption. The dockside crane worked meticulously to balance and lift her from her perch on the flatbed. The flatbed pulled away leaving her suspended like an idol hovering over its worshipers. The crane slowly moved towards the ship cradle that would carry her into the boat hanger. Everyone gathered around her as Vince prepared for her unveiling. With plenty of eager hands to help, the protective skin was peeled back. With each foot uncovered came a chorus of oo’s and aah’s. The sleek white shinning surface had the insignia of the US flag streaming down its sides. The bars of the flag streamed as though windblown down most of the boat’s length. Above the streaming flag were corporate logos of the team’s sponsors, the most prominent being L’Oréal. Other sponsors included: Glamour Magazine, HP, Motorola, Lifetime, and H2O Plus. The new sails including the spinnaker would carry the logos of the major sponsors including Chevrolet, Yoplait, and again L’Oréal. Sponsors paid good money to have their name visible when Mighty Mary sailed into international view.

“She’s beautiful,” Annie said, rubbing her sleek hull. All were in agreement over her physical beauty feeding the love fest taking place. Vince, Kirby, and Buddy were trying to be more objective. They agreed the design plan had been followed to the tee. It would remain to be seen how the keel turned out. “Dan is arriving tomorrow night. I would like to have her ready and in the water. I think he’ll be really pleased,” Vince said. The shore team went to work that evening attaching the keel and the main sail and masts. It would take most of the night and all the next day to get her ready for sailing. The next series of races were scheduled to begin March 2nd, leaving them only 4 days to work out the kinks.

Vince decided to pick Dan up from the airport. He needed some alone time with him to go over what was happening with the crew; he also wanted to hear his thoughts on the new yacht. The limo waited briefly before Dan’s jet arrived. The limo drove up to the private jet tarmac as Dan stepped off. “How was your flight, Dan?” “Very nice,” Dan replied, with his usual happy face. “Got some goings on here I guess,” Dan surmised, acknowledging Vince’s rare appearance at the airport. “Yes, like I said, I think we need some time to talk and with our new boat here, I felt now would be a good time to get your full attention,” Vince said, half kidding. He knew Dan was very eager to see his new toy. “So, what’s the latest on the crew?” Dan asked, wasting no time as the limo pulled out. Vince filled Dan in on the changes in the afterguard and how the crew reacted. He was happy to hear Gail was fully ive. They also discussed some issues relating to CJ. Buddy and Kirby were not sure if the problem was her tactics or how the crew reacted to them. Any more changes could wait until the new yacht was in the race. All issues covered, Dan pressed on to what he was patiently waiting to here about. “Now tell me about our new racer,” Dan said excitedly. Vince had pushed hard

to get her ready so Dan would see her in the water. “She really is beautiful. All of the design features are flawless. The new keel design came out just like we wanted. We’ve had the main sail and jib up. It went real smooth. They look great,” Vince said. “So, she’s in the water already?” Dan asked. “Yes, I pushed the team a little, but I wanted you to see her at her best,” Vince confessed. It was 8:00 pm when the limo pulled into the compound. With plenty of sunlight left, Vince and Dan headed straight to the dock. Kirby and several other of the shore team were still attaching cables and lines when Dan and Vince came into view. They stopped to view the new racer in all its beauty. She bobbed and rocked gently in the calm mooring. “The streaming flag is just what I pictured,” Dan said iringly. They stood quiet for a moment taking in the full panorama of yacht, dock, and sea then went on board. Kirby and the shore team stood by smiling as Dan stroked the helm, analogous to kicking the tires of a new car. “We think she’ll fly,” Kirby said, breaking the silence. “Sure looks like it,” Dan replied. “I think this calls for a celebration. The girls could use a little boost. We sail again next Thursday, right?” Dan asked, receiving affirmative nods. “Let’s christen her on Wednesday after training.” The next few days onboard the new racer was not very smooth. Getting the feel of all new equipment didn’t come easy. The sails in particular had a different feel and trimming was difficult. It was going to take some time they really didn’t have to get used to this. CJ did her best as tactician but getting it right was hard and only added to her frustration, highlighting the predicament she was in with the team. She was a fast boat, though. They could really feel the increase in speed. Whether this would translate into victory remained to be seen.

North Harbor Compound San Diego, CA

Wednesday Morning March 1, 1995

“It’s your meeting, your agenda,” Vince said, to the four somber looking crew mates who had asked to meet with him, Kirby, and Buddy. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” Leah began. The thought occurred to all three of the management team that Leah was the ring leader here as she once before approached them about a big change onboard. “We feel we are very close to being on the winning side of these races, but we may never get there because we lack tactical experience,” Leah began. Her ers Liz, Anna, and Anni nodded in agreement. Conspicuously missing was Gail, so it was apparent that the full team was not aware of what these four were up to. “I know we have only been practicing with the new yacht for a couple of days now, but we feel it’s time to make a change. It’s more about winning now than anything else, and we don’t feel more speed will fix everything that needs fixing. It’s our recommendation to replace CJ with Don. I don’t think we have to convince you what a benefit he would be to the team,” Leah said, pausing for some . Kirby and Buddy waited for Vince to react first. “I can’t say that we haven’t thought about this,” Vince began. “But making a change like this when we have a new yacht that’s sure to produce more speed could be unnecessarily disruptive. And there are other things we have to consider, like our sponsors who have backed an all women’s team. Then there’s the media and basically the whole world that have been following a women’s team with great interest, not a mostly women’s team. The history of win or lose will be lost with Don onboard. We have to ask ourselves, is this what we signed up for? Is it more important to win at all cost or to try to win with our original purpose in tact? I’m not sure how the rest of the team feels. I’ll let them weigh in on this, but mostly Dan will have to agree. So, for now we’ll press on and see how things go with the new yacht. No decision will be made before we get a good read on how well we do with more speed. Whichever way we decide to go, you need to give it your best effort.” The four crewmates accepted Vince’s assessment of things and agreed to push forward with their best efforts.

Wednesday night had a curious feel of celebration, anxiety, tension and relaxation all at one time. The team, all management and spouses and coaches and a large number of invited guests and media gathered at the dock to christen their new yacht. Dan kept it somewhat of a secret what he was going to name their new boat, although speculation was running rampant. “Hi everyone,” Dan said from an elevated stage in front of the large gathering. The crowd settled in as cameras flashed capturing Dan’s Texas smile. The new yacht sat on its perch off to Dan’s right on the far side of the seated guests. She was covered, anticipating the grand unveiling for the media and guests that had not seen her. “This is a special night for us the management and women’s team. I know you all have been following our progress and may have some concerns about our results thus far. Trials are confusing and can be misleading. So, let me tell all of you here tonight we are still very much in this event,” Dan conveyed with much enthusiasm, which garnered a thunderous applause from the crowd. “You have to look a little deeper than the headlines to know what I am talking about. First, all of our losses together in the last 13 races amount to less than 9 minutes overall. No one has blown us away. Our women are very competitive, but they have been racing at a disadvantage. Our competitors all have been racing with new yachts. Our three-year-old technology versus the latest technology may be the difference that has been keeping us out of the win column. I am here tonight to tell you we are going to correct that deficit. Tonight we will unveil to the public for the first time our new racing yacht. What will we name her, you ask? I’ve given this a lot of thought and only one name comes to mind. It is a name given to a special person in my life, a person who has exhibited extraordinary courage and strength in the face of adversity, a strong will to succeed and an unwavering spirit. This person is my mother, Mary Cook. For all of the attributes I just mentioned, our family refers to her as Mighty Mary. The women’s team has demonstrated the same traits that helped my mother overcome the challenges she has faced in her life. It is my hope that Mighty Mary will carry the women’s team through all the adversity they will face and on to victory in the Cup trials.” Dan ended. He held back tears as he received a standing ovation.

“Now, if you will remain standing and turn to your left, we will begin the christening ceremony.” Dan left the podium and headed over to the perch holding Mighty Mary. “Will the women’s team please me?” Dan called out to the team still seated. “And the management team to, please me.” With the team and management gathered around, Dan prepared for the unveiling. “Ladies and gentleman, may I present to you the America’s Cup Class racing yacht, Mighty Mary.” With a pull of a line, the covering dropped to display the broadside of Mighty Mary gleaming white with her flag streaming down her side. After much applause and many comments made among the crowd, Dan once again gained everyone’s attention. “I would like to call the women’s team afterguard to this stand.” Dan summoned Gail Adley, Leah Evers, CJ Islin, and Liz Bower to him on the platform. “These ladies form the onboard management team. I think it is fitting that this contingent from the women’s team does the honors, since they all can’t fit on this small platform,” Dan said, getting a chuckle from the crowd. “So, we have the traditional bottle of champagne hooked up and ready to christen our new racing yacht. If you ladies will grab this line and give it a pull on my command,” Dan said, moving the women into position. The champagne hung about 15 feet above the bow of Mighty Mary. Once the line was pulled it would release the catch and the bottle would swing on a predetermined path to a spot on the bow of the yacht. “Just to put everyone’s mind at ease, in the bottle contains real champagne but the container is designed to shatter on impact without damaging the bow. So, if you are ready. With the promise to carry our hopes and dreams and our women’s team to victory, we christen you Might Mary,” Dan announced, nodding to the women. With a tug of the line, the bottle swung in a graceful arc to the predetermined spot on the bow shattering on impact and spraying champagne over a 10 foot

radius. Again, the cheers went up. She took on a new character. She was no longer the new yacht. Mighty Mary had arrived.

San Diego Harbor Start of the 4th Round Robin March 2, 1995

After an hour delay to make adjustments to the steering mechanism, Mighty Mary was finally on her way to the starting area. Dan, along with Vince, Buddy, and Kirby followed her out on the tender. “Still feels a little loose,” Gail yelled from the helm over to the tender. “You can make some minor adjustments to the cable tension after the race begins,” Vince called back. “I know,” Gail replied, a veteran of fix it as you go repair techniques. “It looks like a great day for racing. Good luck,” Vince called out, as the team made their way into the starting area. Stars & Bars was already circling. Released from her tow, Mighty Mary entered the course. Gail called out the orders, sails were hoisted, and tacking began. CJ was at her usual pre-start position at the helm and Leah nearby assessing wind and positioning. The starter’s voice boomed over the loud speakers, “Ten minutes to the gun,” he announced. Watches were synchronized, the countdown began. Gail looked over to Stars & Bars. She could see Devon at his usual post at the helm. He looked back at Mighty Mary shaking his head as though to say “why bother.” He turned and continued his maneuvers. “OK, let’s tack to starboard,” Leah shouted out.

Halfway down to the starting line both yachts were running about even when Stars & Bars began to circle. With 5 minutes to the gun, Devon felt there was time for this maneuver. “Watch him,” Gail called back to the helm. “He may want to circle to our starboard. Damn it, he is,” Gail muttered. “You might want to begin to circle to port,” Gail yelled back again. Leah was slow to pick up on the necessary maneuvers. “On it,” CJ replied. Devon was going for a starboard position which was more favorable down the course. “More trim,” Gail yelled. The sail trimmers tightened up on the lines to lift the jib to further shape the sail for peak performance. Devon had completed his turn and was tacking away down the course to the start now with 2 minutes to go. “Coming about,” CJ yelled. “Ready for port tack on my go. Port tack,” she yelled, as the boom swung across the deck. “Winds at 15 knots, same as starboard lane,” Leah called out. “Liz, call out the time to the gun,” CJ directed. She began at 60 seconds. Mighty Mary had made up 2 full boat lengths on Stars & Bars still leading by 2 lengths. “30, 29 ,28…,” Liz continued the countdown. “We’ll be fine,” Leah said, estimating their time distance and speed. “Not so sure. We’re moving pretty fast,” CJ countered. “Keep it steady. We’ll be fine,” Leah contended. With 20 seconds to the start, Stars & Bars broke off to starboard. She had already determined they would hit the line before the gun. CJ followed suit without asking for another opinion. “10, 9, 8…,” The countdown continued with both boats coming about and headed straight for the line. The gun sounded. Stars & Bars timed it perfectly. CJ

took the tack a little wider than she had to and crossed the line two lengths behind. “OK, not bad.” Gail yelled back to CJ to offer some encouragement. With her self-confidence shot, even a small mistake was magnified in CJ’s mind. Leah took over the helm as their strategy called for and CJ took over as tactician. “Continue port tack,” CJ ordered, as both yachts fought for every ounce of speed they could manage against the 15 knot winds. Mighty Mary was gaining. Halfway to the windward mark, Mighty Mary took the lead and began to pull away. The women couldn’t help but give a little hoot, and Gail couldn’t help noticing that the smug look on Devon’s face was gone. It was more of a grimace, plainly seen as the two boats were momentarily side by side in the choppy sea. “Get the spinnaker on deck and ready,” Gail ordered. Merritt would be in charge of the spinnaker set after they rounded the mark. “Liz, what’s our distance to the mark?” CJ asked. “One mile,” she confirmed through her lazer scope. “Hey,” Gail yelled back to Leah, as she noticed them moving off the layline. “What’s going on?” “I don’t know, I’m turning the wheel but not getting any response,” Leah replied. Gail came out of the pit. “Gimmee the wheel,” she said forcefully. Leah complied without comment. Mighty Mary was being pushed off course. Gail could feel it in the helm. It was loose. The rudder wasn’t reacting to the turn of the wheel. Gail had to exaggerate the turn to get the desired effect. “Something’s up with the steering cable. It’s slipping or something,” Gail determined. “You have to over turn to get where you want to go. Take over. I’m

going below to check out the gear box and see what I can do.” She went below knowing there were only 10 or so minutes to the mark. Their 8 length lead would be lost if they didn’t fix this and round the mark effectively. She watched the cable mechanism work as Leah tacked. The cable looked fine. Then she saw it. The tightening nut used to adjust the tension on the steering cable that went to the rudder was slipping. She looked closer and could barely make out that the treads had been stripped. “Nothing I can do about it now,” she said to herself. ‘We’ll have to over steer our way home. How does that happen?’ she thought to herself, as she went back up on deck. “We’re coming to the mark. How does it look?” CJ asked. “We’ll have to keep doing what we’re doing. It’s a problem we can’t fix here,” Gail replied. “Take it out a little wide,” Gail called to Leah. “We don’t want to risk touching the mark.” “Good idea with this steering,” she replied. Still 6 lengths ahead, Mighty Mary came up to the mark. “Rounding the mark,” Leah yelled. The jib boom came hard across the deck pulling Mighty Mary in its new direction. “Ready with the spinnaker,” Gail called out to the bow crew. She rounded the mark and picked up the 15 knot winds now off her stern. Take down the jib,” Gail yelled to the crew. The grinders going full tilt reduced the jib to a pile of material on deck. “Pull it in, get it tucked.” Gail yelled out the orders, watching their moves closely. Merritt hooked the spinnaker halyards while the crew rushed the jib below. “Where’s the spinnaker pole?” Gail yelled out again.

The crew was already on it but having some difficulty connecting it to the mast. “What’s going on?” she asked impatiently. “It doesn’t seem to fit,” Annie called out to Gail. She came charging out of the pit to try herself. It wasn’t going through. “Diana, tie off the line and come up here,” Gail ordered, hoping it just needed a good pounding to get it through. “This pin has to go through that hole. Make it happen,” she directed Diana. “They’re rounding the mark,” Sarah yelled. Stars & Bars made up the 6 lengths and would take a commanding lead if they didn’t get the spinnaker up fast. Diana tried in vain. The rolling seas prevented the pin and hole from lining up long enough to drive the pin through. It worked fine at the dock with minimal movement, but it was definitely not meant for high seas. Stars & Bars pulled on by. The smug look was back on Cahill’s face. “You’ve got to hold the pole steady. Someone get me a mallet from down below,” Gail ordered. “Keep trying, Diana.” Stars & Bars was nearly out of sight in the high winds. “Please, just one time,” Gail pleaded with the spinnaker gods. Diana pounded the pin with the mallet several times hoping to catch it aligned just right. Finally, the pin went in part way. She pounded again and again with maniacal intensity until the pin went all the way through. “Hoist it,” Gail yelled, and the grinders sprang into action. The spinnaker went up quickly. Merritt scurried up the mast to engage the halyard lock. She did it without hesitation in high seas and 15 knot winds. Mighty Mary jolted forward, catching a lot of air. “Do you think we can make up the time?” Merritt asked. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out just how fast she is.” Leah kept her on a straight course down wind. Gail and CJ called out minor

adjustments to fine tune the sails. Everyone was working at peak efficiency. “There she is,” CJ yelled. Stars & Bars came into view. “We have time to catch her at this rate,” Leah surmised. “Devon, look,” Steve, his tactician said, pointing over the stern. “Looks like they figured out how to set a spinnaker,” he joked. They all laughed feeling this race was well in hand. “They’re really moving,” Steve said. Devon took a longer look without comment. “Phil, give me more trim on the spinnaker,” Devon ordered, with a sense of urgency. “Bitches,” he muttered. Stars & Bars rounded the leeward mark first with Mighty Mary less than a minute behind. That small lead would increase as tacking began again to the windward mark. The steering mechanism would continue to be an issue heading back into the wind. The spinnaker take down went without issue. The jib back in place, the crew started their maneuvers once again. “We’ve got to figure out how to engage this spinnaker pole before we hit the final mark,” Gail said to Merritt. “Do we have any WD40? My dad says it fixes everything,” Merritt offered. “Yeah, we probably do,” Gail replied, a little amused by her simple remedy. The same scenario was playing out. Mighty Mary retook the lead and opened up by 10 lengths as they came to the windward mark. Diana stood by with the mallet in hand. Susie had the WD40 ready to go. “Rounding the mark,” Leah called out. Mighty Mary made a safe turn around the mark. Jib down, spinnaker hooked up pole not cooperating. WD40 dripped from the cradle. Stars & Bars rounded the mark and went on by. “I’ve got it,” Gail yelled. “Give me that screw driver from the tool box.” Diana grabbed it and handed it to Gail. She crammed it between the cradle and

the pole. It put tension on the pole so it didn’t move so much in the rolling sea. “Pull back a little,” Gail directed the crew manning the pole. “Hammer away,” she yelled to Diana. The pin slipped through easily. “Go for it,” she yelled to the bow crew. The spinnaker was flying in a fraction of the time it took before. Devon looked back to see Mighty Mary coming at him spinnaker in full bloom. He let out a deep sigh. Gail and the crew were feeling good about their chances but at the halfway point to the finish the winds died down to about 5 knots. Both teams lowered their spinnakers and hoisted their jibs. They would begin jibing. This would be a problem for the women’s team, having a steering problem to add to the fact that jibing was not their strong suit. Stars & Bars increased their lead as the finish line approached. “Liz, what does it look like?” CJ asked. “We’re about 10 out,” she replied “Wait, look off the starboard,” CJ said with more excitement than the conditions warranted. “What?” Leah asked. “We should jib over to that patch of rough water. Looks like some wind is kicking things up,” she responded. “Gail look to starboard about 200 yards out,” she again yelled. “Looks like wind,” Gail agreed. “It’ll take too long to get over there and then we have to set the spinnaker again, and you know how well that’s been going,” Leah protested. “If we keep our current heading we will lose,” CJ replied. “At least we will have a chance if we go now.” “Let’s go for it,” Gail ordered ending the discussion. “Jibing starboard,” CJ ordered. Leah complied.

“Get the spinnaker up and ready,” Gail directed. “They’re in 5 knot winds. We’ll be in 10 knot winds,” Liz advised. “Lower the jib,” Gail ordered, and the tiring spinnaker set was again underway. Everyone executed perfectly. Gail crammed the screw driver and aligned the holes. Diana set the pin and with one swing drove the pin through the cradle. “Hoist her,” Gail yelled to the cheering crew. “What the hell are they doing?” Steve asked, as he watched the women jibe far off to the starboard. “They’re catching some air,” Devon growled. “Why didn’t you see that wind?” he complained. “I didn’t think we needed it,” Steve replied. “You better hope we don’t,” Devon said, watching Mighty Mary’s spinnaker fill with air. “This is going to be close,” he muttered. “What’s our status?” CJ called to Liz. “We’re a mile out doing, 15 knots,” she advised. “Come on baby,” CJ yelled. All they could do now was make minor adjustments to the sails to get all the air they could grab. The winds moved more to port, moving the yachts closer together. Stars & Bars didn’t have time now to do a spinnaker set, so Mighty Mary was able to close the gap considerably. But the line came fast, and Stars & Bars crossed just 20 seconds in front of the rapidly closing Mighty Mary.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“Wow, that must have been heartbreaking for the women,” I surmised. “Yeah, it really was. They had Cahill on the ropes,” Dan replied. “What was going on with Mighty Mary?” I asked, sensing there was a story there. “We had a good debriefing that night. We looked really close at the steering problem. A hex nut used to tighten the cable was partially stripped. Can’t say for sure what caused it, but we decided to put a security detail on the dock 24/7. As for the spinnaker pole, that was a minor engineering problem. We replaced the cradle with one from Corsa. It worked fine after that. As for the team and how they performed, I have to give them high marks for their efforts given the problems they encountered and how they handled them. We learned a lot more in the next few heats. Our best performance came in race 2 against Young America. We won by over a minute. We had a perfect trip. In our debriefing, however, we found out that Gail had to override decisions being made by CJ, and to a lesser extent, Leah. It seemed as though those two couldn’t agree on anything. We started losing again. Never by much, but it was obvious we weren’t getting all the speed we could out of Mighty Mary.” “Win or lose, you would still get into the semi-finals, right?” I asked, for clarification. “Yes. It was prearranged that way, but the winner of the round robin would carry two points into the semifinals and the runner up got one. We were at a distinct disadvantage as we finished last.” “So you made some big changes before the semi-finals began?” I said, moving the discussion in a different direction. “We had to do something. We were so close to winning but couldn’t find the finish line first. Tactics, delays in decision making, and not getting all the speed we could out of Mighty Mary were the issues. Only time and experience could solve the problems. We had neither,” Dan commented. “So the idea to bring on Don was back on the front burner?” I asked.

“After careful, heart wrenching debate, we came to the conclusion we needed his experience onboard if we really wanted to win. We held meetings with the women. Some, not all, were in favor because they really wanted to win. Some left the team because it wasn’t what they signed up for. We called Don. He was back home in Connecticut. He flat turned us down at first. I don’t know why he changed his mind, but he called back the next day and said he would come onboard as helmsman and tactician. We told CJ that night. She took it like a pro. It seemed like she kinda felt relieved,” Dan recalled.

North Harbor Compound San Diego

Dan, Vince, Kirby, and CJ entered the conference room together. The women’s team was already seated around the table conversing so intensely they didn’t notice the management walk in. “Ladies, ladies, please can I have your attention,” Vince called out above the clamor. He waited as the talking died down and the tension eased. It was pretty apparent they had heard about the decision regarding Don. “Thank you. Over the last few days we have been discussing with each of you how you feel about having Don Davies the team as helmsman and tactician. We all knew coming into this competition that experience was our greatest weakness. On every other level we have competed well against the men. We have been as frustrated as you at coming up just short of victory. So we asked each of you, is it more important to win or to maintain the identity of the women’s team and do the best we can. Some of you have told us that winning at this point is more important. This was not an easy decision to make but based on your feelings and that of management, we have invited Don to the team.” Vince said, pausing again for the loud reaction. Some women continued to argue. Some smiled but none more than Leah. “Don will be here tomorrow for practice. I also want to say thank you to CJ for being so gracious with this move. She will stay on with us and work with our shore team and be in our strategy meetings.”

The team was dismissed, still talking amongst themselves as they left. Some would pack their bags to head home. Others would prepare for the next day’s routine.

San Diego Yacht Club March 12, 1995

“Good morning,” Carl said to his waiting companions. “Coffee please,” he said to the waiter. “You seem happier than the occasion calls for,” Mike responded. He and Devon were not feeling all that confident as the semi-finals were about to begin. “Well, I just received some interesting news that may give you something to smile about,” Carl happily informed them. “What, the whole women’s team is PMSing at the same time and will have to drop out of the competition?” Devon joked, getting a chuckle out of Mike. “Funny,” Carl replied. “I called our friend Don to catch up on things and he informed me that UA3 has asked him to the women’s team as skipper.” “No shit,” Devon sputtered incredulously. “Well, at first he turned them down. Knowing his experience would help them, he didn’t want to be the one who dashed the hopes and dreams of the women’s team. I guess he had grown fond of them and sympathized with their struggles,” Carl related to his fellows. “Does he know about Mighty Mary?” Mike asked. “Yeah,” Devon piped in. “If they get the bugs worked out, she’s going to be hard to beat. I mean they get better with every race,” Devon said, a bit flustered. “Well, I did say he should reconsider. With a man onboard it would take the

sting out if an all women’s team won,” Carl commented. “Well, what did he say?” Mike asked impetuously. “He’s calling them today to accept the position,” Carl confirmed.

CHAPTER 15

WIN OR GO HOME

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“How was Don received by the team?” I asked. “Pretty well. As I said the crew that was most against him left. Without it being the all women’s team, it was just another sail event and a B Team at that. Some embraced the idea and others less so, but everyone agreed to give it their all,” Dan responded. “Did he have the impact you were hoping for?” I questioned. “Yes and no. The semis were a strange set of races. Race one, right out of the box we lost by only 30 seconds to Young America, a team we raced well against and felt we could beat. It seemed there was some lingering resentment that may have caused us to lose a race we had well in hand. The women just couldn’t keep it together. But we bounced right back against Stars & Bars and won. Again, it was a race we should have won by a mile but ended up just a minute or so ahead at the finish. Our third time out we faced Stars & Bars again in very choppy waters. We had some strange equipment failures and had to drop out of the race.” “Strange equipment failures?” I asked, looking for details. “We had lines break, sails tear, and winches fail all during the same race,” Dan related. “Don’t these things happen all the time?” I asked.

“Yes this stuff happens all the time, but all at once is very suspicious,” Dan replied. “You think it was sabotage?” I asked. “Not at first, but it happened the day after our security was found ed out drunk on the dock. This raised some suspicions.” “How did the team react to the possibility of their being a saboteur onboard?” I asked. “Well, we didn’t accuse anyone of messing with Mighty Mary. Yes, there was some talk, but it only made us more vigilant and increased our resolve to win. The next day out with all systems working well, we defeated Young America for the first time in the semis,” Dan related. “So, Don was working out well,” I surmised. “Again, yes and no. He seemed to be more aggressive sailing against Young America but not as aggressive against Stars & Bars. Gail complained to us she had to question his tactics several times during each race against Stars & Bars. He would hesitate or simply over rule Gail’s recommendations.” “Gail and Leah’s recommendations,” I corrected. “No, Leah went along pretty much with whatever Don ordered, without question,” Dan replied. “So, you were about half way through the semi-finals and trailing the others?” I questioned. “Yes, but there was a pivotal incident that would have put us in the finals if things had gone our way,” Dan related. “The IACC decision?” I asked. “Yes,” Dan replied. “How did that all come about?” I questioned, not knowing the inside story.

“It started back in race 6. Stars & Bars was racing against Young America. The seas were quite high in 25 knot winds. Racing should have been canceled, but the officials went ahead anyway,” Dan recounted.

San Diego Harbor March 22, 1995

“Put up jib 2,” Devon yelled out to his pit crew. They went to work grinding down the heavier number 1 jib. The trimmers carried up the number two used in high winds. Ten foot swells bounced the crew around as Stars & Bars was slammed. “What were they thinking?” Steve yelled to Devon, struggling with the tiller. “Should we head for port?” he asked. “What’s Young America doing?” Devon replied. “She’s still about 400 meters behind us,” Steve said, looking back through his binoculars. “They have their number 2 up already,” Steve said, just as Stars & Bars took a big hit on their starboard. She veered sharply to port. “Get that jib up. I’m loosing steerage,” Devon yelled to the crew, still shaken up from the pounding they just received. They managed to hook the halyard amidst the dizzying rocking and hoisted the jib. Devon pulled Stars & Bars back on course but felt something wrong in the steering or balance of the yacht. “Call it in, Steve. We’re done. I think we have some damage, maybe to the keel. We can’t risk going on,” Devon said, still trying to diagnose the problem through the feel of the helm. Young America saw them heading off course and radioed asking if everything was alright and if they needed any help. Steve informed them of their situation and thanked them. Young America finished the race continuing to show her

dominance over her rivals.

North Harbor Compound March 25, 1995

“Hello.” Gail answered the phone in her room at the compound. “You should check out Stars & Bars tonight,” a voice advised softly. “Who is this?” Gail asked, but the caller hung up. “Who was that?” Merritt inquired. “I don’t know. He just said I should check out the Stars & Bars tonight and hung up,” Gail replied. “Isn’t she undergoing some repairs to her keel?” Merritt asked. “Yeah, she got banged up in that storm yesterday. Maybe we should head over to their dry dock and have a look,” Gail suggested. “If they’re up to something, we should have a plan to sneak in,” Merritt said. “Good thought. Let’s get Diana, Stephanie, and Annie to us. I have an idea.” San Diego Yacht Club

Gail and her crewmates approached the yacht club parking area with their headlights out. If the Stars & Bars crew were up to something, they would certainly have a guard posted to stop any intruders.

“What do you think they’re up to?” Annie whispered to Gail as they walked slowly towards the dock area looking out for guards. “I’m not sure. I just got this phone call saying we should check it out. They’re making repairs to the keel that was damaged in the storm. If I know Devon, maybe they’re going to make some improvements like I wish we could,” Gail surmised. “Moving their keel now would give them an advantage since we all set our keels when high seas were predicted. You all know light winds and calmer seas are coming,” Merritt reminded them. “Bastards,” Diana blurted out. “What’s the plan?” “Merritt and I need a distraction if there is a guard posted so we can slip down to the dry dock area. We’ll try to get close to see what’s happening,” she told them. Something was going on as several cars were inside the gated area. They continued to move quietly around the club house towards the rear leading to the docks. “There, look two guards,” Annie pointed out. “What do we do?” Stephanie whispered. “OK, the three of you go up to the gate and mess with them. You know, be real flirty, as much as you can. Keep them looking at you with their back to the west side, towards the dock gate. Merritt and I will find a way in from the front. There should be an opening facing the water,” Gail said. They all nodded. Both Annie and Diana adjusted their breasts and lowered their jacket zippers. Stephanie followed suit, though not sure why. “Great. That should do the trick,” Gail said, a bit skeptical. “Go, any problem whistle or something.” The girls sauntered on down towards the guards as Gail and Merritt made their way to the far side of the fence. “Good evening boys,” Annie said in her best girly voice to the two young guards

standing outside of the locked gate. “What the hell are you girls doing here? No one is allowed out here. It’s private property.” The older of the two guards nervously contested their presence. “We’re just out looking for some fun,” Diana replied. Her 6 foot something frame was both scary and some how alluring at the same time. “Really?” the guard responded. “Did you bring a ladder?” he asked, and both guys began laughing. It was good to get them a little more at ease. “What’s your name?” Annie asked the older one, as she moved to her right. Merritt and Gail were now in sight and would be spotted if the guards turned to their right. Annie unzipped her jacket all the way and pushed out her chest, which was quite formidable. The boys followed her bosom as though in a trance. “I’m Ryan, this is Jamie,” Ryan said, eyes still on the prize. Diana and Stephanie moved to their right as well making the requisite adjustments to their tops as Annie did. Merritt and Gail slipped down the fence line and out of sight. They headed to the front of the building facing the docks. They heard voices and machinery being operated. No one was outside. “Help me roll this dumpster,” Gail said to Merritt. The rolling dumpster was easy to move. They got it up to the fence and climbed up and over landing quietly in something soft. They made their way along the front of the dry dock toward the open overhead doors. Shrubs provided cover all along the front to the open doors. “It’s going to be another hour before we’re through, Devon,” one of the workers informed the skipper. “It’s fucking Cahill,” Gail whispered angrily. “Can you see the boat?” Merritt whispered back. “Yes, wait, duck down,” Gail urgently requested. They had some cover behind the shrubs, but light from the open doors reflected

off their less than stealthy warm up suits. They sat motionless as Devon walked right by them without notice. They waited until he got in his car and drove off before moving a muscle. Gail was shaking but Merritt was quite calm. If climbing a 30-foot mast in high seas didn’t faze her, Devon sure wasn’t going to. “It’s clear,” Gail said, as she peered into the front entrance. All of the workers were on and around the Stars & Bars, working on various areas that sustained damage in their last race. “I think they’re doing looking at the keel now,” Gail said, with some intensity in her voice. “You know Steve, by moving the keel forward even an inch, we have to counter balance that weight. They will check for new ballast, but they may not notice if we move the mast,” the chief engineer suggested. “Then that’s the way we should go,” Steve agreed. “They are moving the keel. No wonder Devon left in a hurry. Plausible deniability,” Gail muttered. Merritt looked over Gail’s shoulder. She took out her camera and shot a few frames. “Make sure you get a good one of the keel. It doesn’t even look the same as the one they displayed before racing began,” Gail said. After a short while she said, “Let’s go, we got enough.”

“Look, you bitches got to go now,” Ryan said, feeling the teasing was going nowhere. He reached out and grabbed Annie by the arm and shoved her towards the parking lot. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she cautioned. Jamie, a bit of a punk for his medium build, stepped in to shove Stephanie. She caught his hand in mid air, squeezed it hard, and bent his arm back until he went to his knees. Ryan released Annie and went for his radio. Diana reached out and grabbed it from him.

Annie stood back and watched. Ryan threw a punch and Diana, known affectionately as Dianamal, stopped his punch cold. Annie could hear his knuckles crunch in her fist. The timing was good as Gail and Merritt came into view along the fence. They stopped to watch the commotion. Both men were on their knees pleading to be released. “Let me go, you beast,” Jamie cried out. “Beast,” Stephanie repeated angrily. “A second ago you couldn’t take your eyes off my boobs.” She grabbed him by both ears and pulled him to his feet. “You want a piece of me?” she growled. “Here,” she said pulling his face full into her cleavage and rubbing his nose hard across her chest. She repeated pounding his face into her chest until his nose began to bleed. Gail and Merritt shook their heads as they watched this episode unfold. They waved to Annie motioning that it was time to go. “OK, Stephanie, we can go now. Let him go,” Annie said in a soothing voice to try to calm Stephanie down. She released Jamie hard against the fence where he fell to the ground next to Ryan rubbing his hand. The girls turned and headed to the parking lot. “And don’t come back,” Jamie yelled out to them. “You’re not going to say anything to Steve about this, are you?” Jamie asked Ryan. “No. They’ll only make fun of us and call us pussies,” Ryan replied. “Wow, they had great tits, didn’t they,” he added. “Yeah, did you see my face in her cleavage? I almost stuck my tongue out,” Jamie bragged. “Shit, I think she broke my nose.”

Back at the compound Gail and Merritt called Vince to tell him what had transpired. Since it was late they would meet in the morning to figure out what to do. Vince, Kirby, Rick, and Gail sat around the conference table the next morning. “Do you have pictures?” Vince asked, again not sure how the Stars & Bars crew

could be so careless or how his crew could be so lucky. Changing your keel, after reveal your keel, day could get you disqualified. ‘How could Cahill be so stupid?’ Vince thought. ‘Then again, it was Devon Cahill who gets away with stuff others don’t dare try’. “Yes, we have pictures,” Gail replied. “But honestly, we don’t need them. All the measurers have to do is check the keel and they’ll see it’s dissimilar. It’s a clear violation.” “OK. Let’s get them developed. We can’t call a foul until they have raced with the dissimilar keel. We’ll red flag them after the race tomorrow and see if the committee has the balls to disqualify them,” Vince concluded.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“OK, let me see if I have all of this straight. You’re up to the 8th race of the semi-finals. Young America is essentially in the finals already and Mighty Mary as well as Stars & Bars are tied at 2 wins each. ” I summarized. “Don’t forget they have a carry over point from the round robin series,” Dan corrected. “That would mean we would be tied if they awarded us the win by disqualification.” “But they didn’t,” I added. “No. The Defense Committee not only rejected our protest but upheld their victory. We had no other choice but to file a lawsuit to force the issue before the IACC International Jury. Devon had too much influence with the hometown boys. The IACC was our best shot though still not a done deal. When push came to shove and the Defense Committee saw that we meant business, they referred the case to the International Jury.” “How did that turn out and did it have an affect on the outcome of the semi-

finals?” I asked. “We didn’t get the jury’s decision until the end of the semi-finals. So, Cahill got to race with a new keel better suited to the lighter seas and winds predicted for the balance of the races. At the end of the semi’s we were still tied with Stars & Bars. If the IACC decision was to award us the point since we had the only legal boat in the race, we would have been in the finals sailing against Young America. Stars & Bars would have been eliminated. Well, after a week of hearings the International Jury ruled that yes, they did have a dissimilar keel and yes, it had been moved. Then defying their own rules, they stated that the changes did not provide a performance advantage, thus Stars & Bars would not be disqualified. However, they would not get the win, but we would be able to redo the race,” Dan concluded, still with some disgust in his voice. “Unbelievable. Did they know about the mast being moved?” “Yes. We brought that to their attention later and were told that since the yacht was certified safe for racing they ironically approved the changes and their decision was irreversible.” “So, you had to compete again in a race Stars & Bars should have been disqualified. Yes. And now we were in a ‘win and you’re in’ situation. If we won the contested re-race, we would have eliminated Stars & Bars from the finals. If we lost we would have a sail off with them for the last spot in the finals,” Dan recounted. “I know this next part must be hard to talk about, but could you fill me in on how the three yacht finals came about,” I cautiously inquired. “It’s true what they say about hindsight is 20-20. We lost very badly in the rerace. We had a very bad start. Don really came on too strong to the starting line and crossed over before the gun. So we had to jibe back. We could not recover from the time we lost. We were now in a sail off with Stars & Bars. Win and you’re in again. Management wasn’t feeling too confident about our chances. , Cahill had a boat better equipped for the conditions and the women just lost by over 4 minutes. We felt that if we could somehow make it to the finals, maybe the weather would change and we could compete more effectively. The night before the sail off took place, we met the other racing syndicates. We wanted to broker a deal whereby win or loose all three yachts would be in the

finals. To this day I don’t know why Young America agreed to it. They may have been over confident since they had a commanding lead and beat us both regularly. Stars & Bars gladly accepted the proposition. We didn’t meet with the women to let them know since it was very early in the morning when we reached an agreement. The women’s team was already on the water before we all arrived at the dock,” Dan related. “You ended up winning that sail off,” I recalled.

San Diego Harbor April 4, 1995

Devon stared intently at Don as their yachts sailed by each other in the pre-race maneuvering. High seas and gusty winds would give the speedy Mighty Mary a distinct advantage in this deciding race for the finals. “Looking good,” Gail said, gleefully expecting more joyful expressions from the afterguard. “Tacking to starboard,” Don yelled to the crew. “Five minutes to the start,” Leah shouted. “Hold back a little,” Gail called back to Don, who only gave a nod and turned to see where Stars & Bars was headed. “Looks like Devon may have done himself in this time,” Annie said to Gail. “Yeah, not the light winds he had hoped for,” Gail replied, happy to see someone in tune with their good fortune. “One minute,” Leah yelled. “Can’t be one minute,” Gail shouted back to her.

“Two minutes, I mean,” Leah corrected herself. “Pull it in a little,” Don said to Gail, tending the jib. ‘Good call,’ she thought to herself, as they needed to slow down a little. The starter gun sounded and both yachts hit the starting line seconds later. There would be no restarts this time. Right from the gun Gail could see Stars & Bars’ bow pounding the waves. ‘Tribute to your keel being placed a little too far forward for the conditions,’ she thought. ‘That’ll slow her down a bit.’ Rounding the first windward mark, Mighty Mary had a two-minute lead. The team responded to every call perfectly and with only half the race completed they all had a sense of victory. “Keep your focus ladies,” Gail shouted. “You know these conditions can change in an instant,” she cautioned. She knew all too well anything could go wrong. A torn sail or broken rudder came to mind. As they approached the first leeward mark, Mighty Mary had increased her lead to 5 minutes. Excitement was building on board. They felt nothing could stop them now. Rounding the final windward mark, the team performed another flawless spinnaker set. She would cruise home to victory, expanding her lead to nearly 6 minutes. Mighty Mary crossed the finish line. There were tears and hugs everywhere onboard. The women’s team had just achieved what no one thought they could ever accomplish. Defeating and eliminating the most heralded America’s Cup team and getting into the Cup finals. It suddenly became apparent to Gail that something was not right. The team tender was approaching with Vince, Kirby, and Dan onboard. They weren’t all smiles as Gail would have expected.

North Harbor Compound The congratulations and hugs from UA3 management were muted at best. Most of the women realized it as their celebration was tamed and a meeting was called as soon as Mighty Mary was docked and locked down.

“What the hell is going on?” Gail asked. Merritt and Annie walked along her as they made their way to the conference room. “I don’t like the feel of this. Are we being disqualified or something?” Annie questioned. They entered the conference room and sat down. The mood was sullen for what they had just accomplished. Vince and Dan entered. “That was a wonderful piece of sailing,” Vince began, taking the edge of the room. “Congratulations to all of you. I think today you we can definitely say we reached our performance objectives. You have much to be proud of. The world was watching and they know the trials you have faced. We all know the challenges you have had to overcome rising to meet each challenge together, showing what teamwork and determination can accomplish. I need you all to carry that determination into the finals with you,” Vince said, with a little bit of a trail in his voice. It was confusing to Gail who was more perceptive than most. ‘Wait for it,’ she thought. “We don’t want you to be discouraged or feel in any way that something has been taken away from your victory today. You are in the finals no doubt about it. We came to an agreement late last night with the other two syndicates that win or lose all three yachts would be in the finals,” Vince said to deafening silence. Then it came like a boom clearing the deck. The protests began. “Ladies, listen. Please listen.” Vince spoke over their objections. “We felt it was in our best interest to make this deal. You know Stars & Bars was geared for light winds. We had no idea the conditions would change to favor us. Now we have the possibility over several races that the weather will favor us. Not just one race. Let’s make the best of it, OK.” Vince concluded the meeting wishing it had gone better. They were most vocal about Cahill always getting another chance at their expense. They felt it just wasn’t fair. “We have 5 days to get them over this disappointment,” Dan said to his management team. “Why don’t we get some press in here? They should see how the world

continues to follow and them,” Kirby suggested. “Great idea. Let’s get on it, Kirby,” Dan replied.

CHAPTER 16

THE FINALS

San Diego Yacht Club April 5, 1995

“What’s going on out there, Devon?” Mike angrily asked. “Why can’t you put these bitches away?” “Stars & Bars is the slowest boat in the race. It seems someone cut some corners building it,” Devon shot back. “Shouldn’t you be able to make up for some of that lost speed with your superior experience?” Mike replied. “Alright guys,” Carl cut in, sensing things were getting too heated. “Mike, we were geared up for light winds. We guessed wrong. The long range forecast is not looking better for us either. And yes, the women are sailing way better than we thought they could. But I’m not sure they can keep it up,” Carl said, not so convincingly. “The conditions are just too favorable for the women. There was no way they could loose with that boat of theirs,” Devon chimed in. “What about the afterguard? They aren’t helping at all,” Mike pointed out. “There’s not a lot that can be done there, not with that Gail Adley onboard. She knows what’s going on at all times. If a maneuver is too slow to develop or a reaction is too slow, she’s all over it.” “What do we do?” Mike asked still angry.

“Our best is for hope for light winds and seas,” Devon responded. He had now resigned himself to the fact that the women’s team could defeat him all things being equal.

Enersys Corporation Interview wit Dan

“So, Devon had new life and the women were discouraged that he was still in the race. What were you expecting in the finals?” I asked. “We were pretty hopeful. The media idea worked very well. The women got a big confidence boost from the attention and all the mail they received wishing them well. A lot of hopes and dreams besides their own were riding on their success. They carried their new found enthusiasm right into the first race against Young America. We beat them in a very tight ‘come from behind’ victory. Funny how we always seemed to perform better against Young America,” Dan said, thinking out loud. “What happened to Young America in the finals? They seemed to dominate in the other rounds.” “I think the agreement we made with their syndicate affected their crew more than they knew. I think they resented it.” “What did the new format for the final’s call for?” I asked. “We decided that the first team to be mathematically eliminated would set up a sail off between the remaining two for a trip to the Cup.” “I read that Stars & Bars got off to a fast start winning five of their first six starts,” I recalled. “Yes, again the weather changed and favored them. We were one loss away from elimination and pulled out a stunning win against Young America. They then beat Stars & Bars giving them 5 points. Stars & Bars and Mighty Mary each had

four. It came down to another duel with Stars & Bars to stay alive. If we won Stars & Bars would be eliminated, and we would be in a sail off with Young America to represent the US in the America’s Cup against Team New Zealand. If Stars & Bars won it, they would go on to the sail off with Young America. It was the most incredible race I think in America’s Cup history. The first ever women’s team against the almighty Devon Cahill. People all around the world were watching. It was truly a historic duel on many levels,” Dan recalled fondly.

San Diego Harbor April, 26, 1995

San Diego Harbor was teaming with life. It was a spectacular day. The sun reflected brightly off the myriad of white sails that filled the harbor. Hundreds of small craft were lining up to witness what many called the race of the century. Stars & Bars circled majestically near the course as Mighty Mary made her way through a flotilla of well wishers. Winds were at 10 knots, slightly favoring Mighty Mary. Devon knew this and would need some help to win. “How many more lives does this guy have?” Annie asked Gail. “I think he is done,” Gail replied. The starter called out 20 minutes to the start. Both crews were discussing final strategies for the current conditions. “We need to be flawless in our execution today men,” Devon said to his crew. “Stay focused. The women’s jibing has not been good throughout this competition. With a little luck and some calming of the winds we’ll be in it at the end. Don’t give in and don’t give up.” “Beat’em, Beat’em, Beat’em,” rang out from the crew; it was their usual rally cry.

“If we get off to a good start I think we can build a good lead in these winds,” Gail said, huddling with Don, Leah, and Liz around the helm. “Sure looks favorable right now,” Don replied. “We just need to keep our lines tight and let Mighty Mary do the rest.” “10 minutes,” the starter called out. “Let’s circle and tack back to the start.” Don called out to the crew above the pandemonium that was happening all around them. Camera crews lined the course, though most were from overseas. They favored the women’s team to win more than the American media. Nevertheless, the women had a huge following in the US. Every major channel was on hand to carry their story. Win or lose, it would be a historic event. Both yachts made their final circle and were tacking towards the starting line. Only one minute to go. The winds whipped a little harder than they had allowed for and the gun sounded with both teams crossing early. “We can clear, let’s circle quickly,” Don yelled out. Stars & Bars, a little behind, had to jib losing precious seconds they didn’t have to spare. Mighty Mary got on course first and opened a 50-second lead that would only increase in the wind. “Nice work,” Gail yelled out to her grinders and sail trimmers. “Stay sharp.” “My fault,” Devon said to his afterguard. “Just a little jumpy. We’ll make it up.” That was a bit hopeful. By the first windward mark, Mighty Mary had stretched their lead to two minutes. Her spinnaker set went flawlessly and the winds carried her along at 10 to 15 knots. The lead was widening. Stars & Bars also had a flawless spinnaker set to keep them within a reasonable range should conditions change or mechanical failure hit Mighty Mary. It wasn’t looking promising for Devon’s team. Rounding the leeward mark for the last time, Mighty Mary had built her lead to just over 4 minutes. Then the winds began to die down.

“Alright, alright.” Gail calmly assessed the situation. “They can’t make up all this time we have on them,” she said, to encourage the crew. “Put up the number one,” Don shouted to the crew. They went to work getting the number 1 jib from below deck. It was a bigger sail used in lighter winds. “They’ll slow down as soon as they drop their spinnaker,” Don said, looking across the course to Stars & Bars still a half mile from the leeward mark. “Really dead now,” Gail said, assessing the winds. There was barely enough wind to do a slow tacking maneuver. Mighty Mary was trolling along at 2 to 3 knots. Stars & Bars just rounded the leeward mark and headed to the far starboard side of the course. “Where are they going?” Liz asked, alerting everyone to their maneuver. “I don’t see any wind over there,” Leah commented. “Must be something more than we have,” Gail said, surveying the area. She had a picture of this in her mind from the Whitbread when the Winston pulled to the far starboard towards distant cloud cover. “We should head over there. I think Devon found some air or will soon find it,” Gail recommended to Don. He took a long look over at Stars & Bars. “There’s nothing there. We’ll just loose more ground if we try to tack over,” he responded. “Yeah, no sense chasing after something that isn’t there,” Leah added, in of Don’s decision. Gail was not comfortable with the decision but had to give in to the direction of her skipper and tactician, for now. “Look, there it is,” Liz shouted out. She had been keeping a close eye on Stars & Bars, who was now moving along at 10 knots. “We have to get over there,” Gail urged Don.

“I think we’ll get his wind in a minute. We should stay right here,” he replied. “In a minute he’ll cut our lead in half at this rate,” Gail protested. Don hesitated, taking a long look back at the advancing Stars & Bars. “Tacking to starboard,” he ordered. It was a slow and painful maneuver as they watched Stars & Bars close the gap. Mighty Mary finally made it into the lane and maintained a tenuous 2-minute lead into the final windward mark. The winds were on the course now. “Get the spinnaker out and ready,” Gail ordered. The crew responded. “Gail,” Merritt yelled. “The halyards are up the mast.” “What?” Gail shouted back incredulously. “How can that be?” she shouted again, heading out of the pit towards the bow. Everyone was looking up the mast. Somehow the halyards went up the mast with the jib and no one noticed. “We can’t get them down without lowering the jib,” Leah said, ing the crew around the mast. “We’ll have to wait until we round the mark or send someone up the mast to unhook them. If we wait we’ll lose more time by not being ready,” Gail said, evaluating the situation. “I’ll tell Don what’s going on and that we have to wait,” Leah decided. “I’ll tell Don we’re sending Merritt up the mast to free the halyards,” Gail said, vetoing Leah’s plan. Don was still at the helm keeping an eye on the tacking maneuvers. “Don, somehow the halyards went up the mast. I have to send Merritt up to free them so we can get our spinnaker set ready,” she said, out of breath. Again, Don looked back at Stars & Bars.

“With the winds picking up it’s too dangerous. We’ll just have to wait till the jib comes down,” he ordered. “We’ll lose too much time and look they’re closing in. Don, Merritt has done this in 20 knot winds. It’s a cakewalk for her,” Gail said, not believing she had to plead for this to happen. Again, Don hesitated and looked back. When he turned back to Gail he saw Merritt over her shoulder already on her way up the mast. “OK, send her up,” he agreed. Gail turned to see Merritt doing her thing and looked suspiciously back at Don. “That’s my gal,” she shouted. Merritt released the halyards and the crew went to work readying the spinnaker. They rounded the mark still a good minute ahead. The spinnaker went up but a little late when every second counted. Halfway down the leeward course Stars & Bars was gaining due their superior jibing maneuvers. Mighty Mary’s lead was now down to under a minute. “We should cover them, don’t you think?” she called over to Don and Leah. ‘These are skipper and tactician decisions,’ Gail thought. ‘Why aren’t they making these calls?’ “We’ll hold steady,” Don ordered. Stars & Bars continued to jibe flawlessly. Mighty Mary, not so much. They were gaining and time was running out. “We have to cover them now,” Gail protested to Don. Don again turned to view Stars & Bars as if to gauge their speed and distance. “OK, we’ll cover,” he announced to the crew. He jibed in their direction and the duel began. Stars & Bars having more experience avoided their wind shadow. “You’re too close. They’ll us,” Gail confronted Don.

It was too late. Stars & Bars came up to her starboard and took the lead. With the wind conditions and jibing experience favoring Stars & Bars, the women suddenly felt their hopes and dreams come crashing down. Stars & Bars cruised across the finish line just 52 seconds ahead of Mighty Mary. ‘How did we manage to squander our lead?’ Gail thought’ as Mighty Mary crossed the finish line. She was inside her own head and the noise of the crowds, still cheering for the women even in defeat, couldn’t penetrate her thoughts. ‘If only we moved to starboard sooner. If only we covered better. If only the winds kept up a little longer.’ Mighty Mary floated slowly around the finish line, main sail down, in dying winds at the end of their final race. The team all sat motionless pondering this turn of events. It would be hard to get their minds around it but tomorrow there would be no training. They would have no sailing to do or strategy meetings to attend. This had been their routine 16 hours a day for over a year and in a moment it all changed. The media would stop hounding them and they would fade out of the spotlight and into their previous lives. The women’s team would go their separate ways. Some would go to train for the Olympic Games. Others would return to their jobs and families. None of them, however, would forget the final race that could have changed the history of the America’s Cup forever.

Enersys Corporation Interview with Dan

“And just like that it was over,” I commented. “Just like that,” Dan said pensively. “How did the women take the defeat?” I asked. “Some were angry, some relieved, and some plain sad. I can’t say I was happy with how things turned out. I mean I can accept defeat, but I feel to this day we

were competing against more than just other boats. It was a shame too, because the women were good enough to be in the Cup. I don’t know if they could have beaten Team New Zealand. They crushed Cahill in the Cup who, by the way, borrowed Young America for the race.” “Dan, I thank you for spending time with me today. Sorry if you missed time at home with your family. I know it’s late. I’ll be working on a draft of this story. If you like I’ll run a copy by you when I’m done,” I offered. “Sure. Call me if you find you missed something,” Dan replied, as we stood and shook hands. He walked me to the door and bid me goodnight.

Auckland, New Zealand May 10, 1995

Gail tried to Bryan several times after the Cup trials were over. She received no response. Taking a leap of faith, she decided to go to Auckland to see him face-to-face. If there was any hope of reconciliation, she would see it in his eyes. She stepped off the plane in Auckland. It was cool in May in the late afternoon sun. She rented a car, still wondering if this was a good idea. She was anxious, excited, hopeful, and fearful all at once. Her trip from the airport to their country cottage took only 45 minutes. She pulled up to the driveway but parked in the street. She walked up the driveway lined with flowers and shrubs. Bryan had done well to keep their cottage looking so inviting. She hoped she could still call it their cottage. Gail approached the front door, took a deep breath, and knocked. She waited, peered through the window next to the door, and knocked again. Still no answer. She walked around the drive side of the cottage towards the backyard. The cottage was elevated high above the ocean. There was a patio at the edge of a hill overlooking the dock where they kept their personal yacht. She walked back thinking Bryan would be enjoying the sunset as they often did together. There he was. His back was to Gail. She walked towards him. “I’ve been all over the world but I never have seen a sunset as beautiful as here,” Gail said, so full of hope.

She waited. Bryan moved ever so slightly upon hearing her voice. He recognized it immediately. He nodded without turning and reached down to the cooler beside him. He pulled out a Fosters, popped the cap, and held it up. “What no glass?” Gail quipped. Bryan stood up quickly and walked toward her as if he was going to leave. “No I was only...” she started to say but Bryan stopped, set the bottle down, and kissed her full on the mouth. They stood there holding each other in the glow of the magnificent sunset. She was home where she wanted to be, and now, where Bryan wanted her to be. Sailing, the women’s team, all of her life’s ambition seemed to melt away as she was in Bryan’s arms. It was good to be home.

EPILOGUE

You could say Dan Cook once again proved his theory that teamwork, attitude, and technology were the elements needed to compete at the highest levels of yacht racing. What the women accomplished was recognized by many around the world and expressed in the comments made by Dan and Vince to the world’s press:

"I am extremely proud of these women,” said Dan Cook, winning skipper of the 1992 Cup and Chief Executive Officer of the United America Foundation. “They went so far beyond anyone’s expectations, proving the skeptics wrong time and time again. They demonstrated they were strong enough, smart enough, and tough enough to compete successfully against the most experienced and talented male sailors in the world. They have challenged the status quo and changed forever how sailing will be done in the America’s Cup. Hopefully, they have opened up new territory for women in other sports as well.”

“As the campaign closes down, all of us at United America have much to celebrate,” Vincent Meyers, President of United America commented. “We applaud our women’s team for their extraordinary courage and resolve, for the immense sacrifices they made in their personal lives, and the very hard work they endured over the past year. We thank PACE 95 and Team Cahill for challenging us to sail our best in the Cup trials. We also thank all of the hundreds of journalists and photographers who told our story so eloquently in the media. And of course, we are grateful to our corporate and private sponsors and donors, and the thousands of individuals around the world who sent in their financial and moral to keep us going throughout the year. It’s been a heart-warming and exciting experience none of us will ever forget.”

Press Meeting

San Diego Yacht Club May 9, 1995

“Mr. Davies, my name is Scott Randall from the New York Times. It’s been reported that some of your decisions as helmsman and tactician onboard Mighty Mary was the reason the women lost. Can you explain why it was better to have a man on board and not go with the all women’s team?” Scott asked. Don Davies took a deep breath as the questioning began. He agreed to the meeting to address the rumors and mitigate the enormous amount of negative press pointed at him for Mighty Mary’s poor performance in their final and deciding race against Stars & Bars. “No one has been a bigger er than me of the women’s team. I helped them to get as far as they did. I was part of their training team. So, the rumors and idle speculation going around that I somehow was part of a conspiracy to bring the women’s team down is just plain wrong,” he contested vehemently. “May I follow up with a question?” Scott asked. “I have been told that you often hesitated to give commands at crucial times that caused you to lose the lead and that at a crucial time in the final race when it behooved you to cover your opponent, Stars & Bars, you failed to do so. Can you explain your strategy in these matters?” “I don’t know where you are getting your information from, but let me say this. Yes, in the beginning I was a little unsure what the women’s strengths and capabilities where so I it at one point I hesitated to give commands that could have been dangerous for them. The intention was never to slow them down. After a while I understood what they could do and danger became a non-issue. As for the last race against Stars & Bars, it wasn’t that I didn’t cover them, I just covered them too closely. It was my tactical error, but I doubt it would have made a difference anyway as the men were much more adept at jibing than the women, and that’s the real reason we lost the deciding race,” Don concluded emphatically.

The questioning continued. Reporters tried to ask the same questions in slightly different ways to catch Don in a lie. However, Don was well versed in his of what took place and how he executed his responsibilities. The questions and mysteries linger today but mostly in sailing circles. What if the women’s team remained all women, and Gail’s sailing experience carried them through? What if the mechanical problems with their boat didn’t occur? What if the IACC disqualified Dennis Cahill as the rules allowed for altering and moving his keel? What if UA3’s management backed their team instead of making a deal to let all three syndicates into the finals regardless of who won the deciding race between Stars & Bars and Mighty Mary?

Cup racing has regained its obscurity in the eyes of the sporting public, and Mighty Mary will occupy only a footnote in the history of the America’s Cup. But for those who cheer for women in sport, Mighty Mary will forever symbolize what women can accomplish with hard work, dedication, and a winning attitude.

Bibliography

Books

Larson, Paul C., America3 The Women’s Team. Arlington, Texas, Legacy Books, 1996

Riley, Dawn, Flanagan, Cynthia, Taking the Helm, Canada, Little, Brown & Co. 1995

Huntington, Anna Shelton, Making Waves, Arlington, Texas, The Summit Publishing Group 1996

Articles

America3 Foundation, Bill Koch Announces Plans to Launch First All-Female Team in America's Cup History, New York, NY 1994

America3 Foundation, Final Roster Announced for America3 All-Women's America's Cup Team, San Diego, CA 1994

America3 Foundation, America3 All-Women America's Cup Team Adds Two More Crew , San Diego, CA 1994

America3 Foundation, Historic Women's Team Wraps Up America's Cup Campaign, West Palm Beach, FL 1995

Degnan, Susan Miller, Tacking Toward America's Cup, Knight Ridder Newspaper, 1994

Lloyd, Barbara, Yacht Racing: An America's Cup Coup - Koch's All-Female Team,

NY Times 1993

Perry, Tony, A New Tack: America's Cup Entry to Use All-Female Crew,

Los Angles Times 1994

Smith, Jack, Women's Team Making America's Cup History, Seattle Times, 1995

Unknown, YACHT RACING: America's Cup - At Last, an All-Female Crew, NY Times 1994

About the Author

Tony was born and raised in the Capital District area of New York. His Italian ancestry originated in the hills surrounding Naples, Italy. He now resides in Wilton, NY with his wife of 42 years. For most of his working career he has been a marketing and sales consultant although his true ion has always been for writing. After raising four girls and retiring from his consulting career, Tony is now able to focus on his writing. He has completed two novels and numerous short stories soon to be published.