Classic_Boat_2016-05

W

hich boat to jump aboard for a race during Antigua’s

classic regatta? The growing entry list held vessels as

varied as snowflakes. I wanted to go fast, sure, but I

also wanted to stay dry and sail with a captivating crew. Were there

parameters, I wondered, that would help narrow the playing field

of my quest for the perfect ride?

I began my shortlist with the newest boat in the regatta, the

2012 Klaus Roder ketch, Chronos. She’d possibly be the most

comfortable and at 179ft LOD she was the biggest. I opted not

to ask for a place aboard the smallest entrant, a 25ft Folkboat,

not wishing to take up precious deck space. Size matters.

Age matters, too, so I added to my shortlist the 80ft Coral of

Cowes, a magnificent gaff schooner and at 113-years-old, the

undisputed matriarch of the fleet.

Now, speed. The fastest boat over the line might

be the J-Class Rainbow but I chose the Bruce King

custom ketch Whitehawk, overall winner in 2014.

And the slowest? Would she offer benefits the

others couldn’t? I was pointed in the direction of

Samsara, a converted Danish fishing boat.

List in hand, I managed to talk my way on to the

newest, oldest, fastest and slowest boats for four

days of research. Which would give the perfect ride?

Race one saw me climbing aboard the giant

Chronos, joining its crew and two-dozen guests

feasting on a five-star breakfast, everyone togged out in stripes

and the sails shooting up courtesy of winches that required few

hands. As Chronos bit into the ocean seas, I waited for her to

yaw or buck, but she held so steady that not one of the teak

chairs on the aft deck moved an inch. Before we reached the first

mark, the deck had morphed into a lounge, with guests now

enjoying fruit drinks. I could get used to this.

Boarding last year’s winner, the speedy Whitehawk, for my

second race, I knew there’d be no fruit drinks. After a general

introduction to the crew of 22, I was handed a crew shirt and

instructed how to not get in the way. A strategy session was

called in the cockpit – they’d had a good day one, but day two

would be better. The team took up battle stations and those aft,

armed with a barrage of navigation devices, started formulating

their win. There was wind and wild seas. Whitehawk’s

navigators called every shift, played the current and at the

windward mark the chute came out of the bag like a genie from

a bottle. Back at the dock, we piled into the cockpit for a

group shot before heading off. As I looked back, Team

Whitehawk was strategizing for day three.

I saved race three, which involved four legs of reaching, for

my slowest ride. In the windy conditions, surely even the former

fishing boat Samsara would be back in time for the party? I

found myself in a traditionalist’s dream of linseed oil, galvanized

rigging and 86 ash blocks that lightened the load of her hand-

hauled canvas sails. We lumbered toward the start

line, family and friends hauling a myriad of lines to

make the gaffer go. Instead of navigation devices,

here it was bottles of water that were in

proliferation, a focus on rehydration that had at

least something to do with last night’s party. After

we rounded the southern mark, Samsara’s deck

became a giant bunk as one person after another

went horizontal for a snooze, including the captain

and his wife. It didn’t affect our speed. As we

entered the harbour 25 minutes after everyone else,

we were met with thunderous cheers.

Coral of Cowes, my final ride, carries three jibs, topsail gaffs

fore and main and her bowsprit is 16ft. She makes for a great

photo. Wind and seas had softened, a perfect stage for the old

gal to strut her stuff. Charter guests wore shirts adorned with the

number 3, matching Coral’s main, while from the helm owner

Richard Oswald imparted tidbits of Coral’s fascinating history.

That night, as the band cranked up at the awards ceremony, I

contemplated the question I had set out to answer. They were all,

in their own way, perfect. What to do? The answer was obvious.

One boat per regatta is just not enough for this life.

Seeking perfection

Jan Hein ponders which boat to join at Antigua Classics

“The deck

became a giant

bunk as one

person after

another went

horizontal for

a snooze”

JANET HEIN

Above: Whitehawk

passing the Gauntlet

Guiding Light. From

left: Samsara skims the

mark; Richard Oswald,

owner of Coral; the

mighty Chronos

Antigua Classic Yacht Regatta 13-19 April. antiguaclassics.com