So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past – F Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
There is something disturbing about the arc of time and the way it has a habit of tapping you on the shoulder and reminding you that the years are advancing. For many sailors, myself included, the Whitbread Races of the 1980s drew me into the world of sailing. Spectacular footage of boats such as Peter Blake’s Steinlager surfing across the greybeards of the Southern Ocean fired my imagination in a manner that, I must confess, events such as the modern day Ocean Race do not. Sure, I’m amazed by the technology and fascinated by the foiling aspect but there is something missing – that human element that was raw and real and visceral in those early events.
There was something altogether more swashbuckling about some of those early events. Put it down to the magnificent mullets of men such as Lawrie Smith, the manicured moustaches of Skip Novak and Peter Blake. It was more than just a race, it was an awfully big adventure – a journey into the unknown.
And yes, I know, this means that I have become an Old Fart. But it’s clear I’m not alone. Nostalgia
