When I found out that the 2014-2015 edition of the Volvo
Ocean Race was stopping in Newport, I didn’t even think about whether or not I
would go. Newport, Rhode Island is one of my favorite places in the world, I
remember being 16 and walking into a Stop N’ Shop in full gear during a storm,
no one batting an eye; I knew I had found my happy place. If you are a sailor,
Newport is like your own personal Candy Store, between bars like the IYAC (which
features a crushed pulpit on its ceiling), a slew of old friends to run into,
and a street named America’s Cup Ave. a sailor can’t go wrong.
When I arrived on the Thursday before the re-start I had
already been hearing the buzz about how fantastic Newport was as a VOR
stopover. I’ve been lucky enough to attend 2 previous stopovers, Baltimore
during the ‘05-’06 race, and Boston for the ’08-’09 edition, and I understand
how special the US stop can be. It is the start of the last time these sailors
will cross an ocean together… in a sense it is the beginning of the end of the
race, and I couldn’t have been more excited to be part of it once again.
To say that the Newport stopover was a success would be the
understatement of the year. When I got down to the race village Friday
afternoon (there was some necessary sleeping in to be done… I blame the IYAC,
and Zelda’s) it was buzzing with excitement. There was the Pro-Am Race, it was
fairly warm, the sun was out, and the breeze was good. However, the best part
was, there were people, and lots of them! After catching up with old friends,
making some new ones, and riding around on an M32, I was able to make my way down
to the dock, and on to the boats.
If you’ve never had the opportunity to see a Volvo boat in
person, I can only really say….think BIG. Having been on a fair share of the VOR70’s
in 2009 I was actually half expecting to not be all that impressed, but the
boats themselves are jaw dropping. With a max beam of 5.6 meters (that’s 18.4
feet!), the VOR65 is a presence both on the water and especially at the dock.
The best part of these boats however, is getting up close and really realizing
how used they are, and how they are not unlike our own boats. Lines are marked
similarly to how we mark our sheets on the 40.7, notes are written onto the
deck, and all the clutches are labeled, with the downhaul almost exclusively
being labeled, “DOWNFUCKER”, little bits of gelcoat have chipped away, and you
begin to really see the soul of the boat, and you realize, this is something
that is relatable. We all have chips, we all have marks, and we all have
something on the boat referred to as some kind of “fucker” (hopefully not any
crew members of course), and that’s when it starts to sink in that it’s all
just sailing…this is just that next level, and as fans of the sport, we are really
quite lucky to be able to have this kind of access.
In-Port Race Day. We arrived at the race village, opting to
stay onshore for the festivities, and I’m so glad we did. Sitting with my feet
over the seawall in front of Fort Adams, I took in the parade that was the
in-port race with thousands of other spectators. In Boston, if you wanted to
watch this race, you HAD to be out on a boat, there was no way around it. In
Newport however, you could gather on the shoreline, run into old friends, and
simply hang out and watch racing! My friend Dawn Riley did a stellar job of
commentating on the less than exciting racing (it really was a parade), and in
perhaps the most exciting part of the day, MAPFRE hit bottom! Perhaps the
other, equally exciting thing, was that throughout the cloudy day there were
people…so many people that I didn’t leave my spot when the race was over in
order to avoid the “rush”. Looking back, this should have been my first sign
that things were getting real in Newport, and that I was going to witness
something unique and special the next day.
I woke up Sunday and was excited. I was excited to get a
coffee, I was excited to visit the Newport Ship Yard, I was excited to see
Comanche #kenmanche, and I was excited to get on the water and watch this
re-start. Being the nerd that I am, I’ve watched a lot of race starts (thank
you YouTube), and one of my favorite parts is watching the spectators follow
the fleet. We get to see a lot of this in places like Sydney Harbor, Auckland,
and some European ports, but since I hadn’t really seen it in America, I guess
I didn’t believe it could happen for us. As we got out on the water and settled
into our position to watch the “tour of the harbor” re-start, I was in awe of
the amount of spectators. I was across the bay from the Fort, but I could see
the shoreline was packed. It was known at this point that the numbers were
good, Newport promised 100,000 people coming through the race village when they
negotiated to get the stopover, and they achieved that one day earlier for the
in-port race. Everything on Sunday, every spectator, every boat on the water
filled with people was icing on the cake, and it was stunning.
The sun was out, there was a 10 knot sea breeze, and Newport
had showed up for sailing. As I looked around at the tens of thousands of
people lining the shore, well beyond Volvo Race Village, it really hit me,
America had showed up for sailing. With the USCG and race management pushing
crowds back I saw some of the best power boat handling of my life, and as the
fleet of VOR65’s made their way back up wind, under the Pell Bridge, and headed
out, the reigns came off. Every YouTube
clip, or old race video I had ever watched couldn’t do the feeling that I had justice.
As we raced past Castle Hill with hundreds of other boats I had no real words
to describe what I felt. I was excited, and I was emotional, and I felt like
history was happening. I literally wanted to cry out of pure joy, and I’m
totally cool with admitting that I may have shed a tear. This was truly unlike
anything I had ever seen, and I had been stunned to near silence. Sure I said
things, cheered for ADOR as they sadly brought up the rear, and I tried to get
a selfie with the whole ordeal in the background, but the wheels inside my head
were spinning wildly. In fact, until that morning, I had actually wondered what
exactly I would write about, but as the day unfolded before me, I just knew…
May 17th, 2015 was the day AMERICA showed up for sailing, and it was
perfection.
America showed up in America’s sailing capital for what was
a truly breath-taking send off, and as it all sank in over rum drinks and bar conversation,
I realized ONLY Newport, RI could be capable of creating what occurred. Only a place
where EVERY sailor feels at home could create this kind of stir around town. Only
in Newport could you walk into a bar after all is said and done and hang out
with all of the people that had just made everything happen, shore teams,
organizers, sponsors, etc, because what happened in Newport, was more than just
your average event, what happened there was special, it was truly unique, and
only a town full of sailors could make that happen.
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