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News Around the World


USA The Tide rides again There are a few legendary ocean racing yachts in the US that bring back memories of a time when owners drove their own boats, managed their own programmes, invited their pals to sail, and yet still could be competitive and win the big trophies of the day. This was an era of amateur racing with professional help in maintenance and logistics, with occasional modest upgrades in new sails and very occasionally a new rig, keel or rudder. Al Van Metre’s S&S 61 Running Tidewas just such a yacht. Com-


missioned by shipping magnate and ocean racer Jakob Isbrandtsen, the low-freeboard flush-deck sloop was built in aluminium in 1969 at Huisman as one of the first stripped-out raceboats specifically designed for maximum performance. She was shipped to Kretzer Boat Works in New York, where 12 Metre America’s Cup veteran Victor Romagna oversaw installation of a utilitarian deck layout. Isbrandtsen and his all-star team sailed Running Tide to victory


in the 1970 Newport-to-Bermuda Race and 1971 Southern Ocean Racing Conference (SORC). Then the Van Metre era of the boat started when Al Van Metre, a successful property developer from northern Virginia whose sailing home was Annapolis, bought Running Tide at auction in 1972. He and son Beau assembled a mostly Annapolis-based crew to carry on with the boat’s campaign of local and high-profile distance racing on the US east coast circuit – earning them victories in big races including St Pete-Ft Lauderdale, the Miami to Montego Bay Race (now the Pineapple Cup) and many others. It was in this era that Tide was pitted against some perennial


arch-rivals, like Tenacious, Ted Turner’s similar-sized S&S design, and here is where a gold mine of legendary stories has circulated down the years. Like the one about the two boats being locked together on a stormy Atlantic night in a boat-for-boat battle in the Miami-Nassau race. Both were surging downwind in a brisk breeze that had built well over the limits of their light-air spinnakers, but neither willing to risk losing their battle for the lead in a sail change. Amid the pelting rain and lightning flashes the navigator


announces the turning mark is approaching fast and the turn will require dousing the kite and heading up to a headsail reach. Tide’s well-practised team know how long it takes in these conditions to get the jib up, set up for the takedown and execute the drop, and that in the rough conditions more time should be allowed, but their narrow lead over Turner compels them to push this to the limit. Finally, with the turning buoy light flashing just ahead, the call is made for the drop. With the bow team poised to retrieve, and


36 SEAHORSE


all commands made as shouts above the wind and rain, the call is made to drop! But nothing happens – the halyard has jammed, and the slack line at deck level indicates the problem is aloft. This disaster could not have happened at a worse time. While the team scramble, stare aloft and frenetically offer solu-


tions, the mark looming closer and closer, Tenacious have dropped their kite and slowed, are set up for the change in course and poised to take the lead. The Tide team are frantic and prepare to send some poor soul aloft with a knife, but the boat captain disappears below, comes back on deck and in the dark appears to be pointing to the huge unremovable sail. Suddenly a bright flash emanates from his extended arm, arcs toward the bulbous overloaded sail which duly explodes in pieces. The boat unloads with relief and, as if this were a regular well-


practised manoeuvre, the bow team immediately set to work retriev- ing what’s left, the trimmers and grinders take their places, and as the boat slides past the buoy the turn is made to the new reaching course and the lead against Turner maintained. One version (of many) of the story is that Al gave a huge gasp in fright at the sail being willfully destroyed but was later calmed when it was explained that the overloaded sail’s shape was probably destroyed already, and in any future use ‘God would take it down anyway’. It was these fables of ocean racing that were brought back to


Annapolis and shared at Marmaduke’s Pub, the Annapolis equiv- alent of the Chequers or the Pier View on the Solent, and helped build and sustain the Running Tide legend in Annapolis and beyond. As Al aged and Beau became busy with his own business com-


mitments, and yacht design moved on into the IMS era with faster, lighter boats, Tide’s relevance as a racing machine was losing traction. Yet the Van Metres loved this boat, and Beau had a plan to take her on one last journey cruising around the world, leaving Florida for the Med in 1988. Sadly he was unable to make it past Antibes, where after lengthy delays they decided to sell Tide to a new French owner who sailed her locally for 15 years. Yet the Van Metres never forgot their beloved yacht, and when the booming real estate business stabilised at home they would make periodic inquiries about buying her back. But always to no avail. The French owner sold the boat on to another local owner, who


used her for day charters out of Marseilles, where old crew who were still active would report occasional sightings. But by then she did not look good and a little later on she was run aground hard on the rocks in a storm. The now ageing French owner finally decided to sell. Beau flew to France to have a look, found the boat and its


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