Inset: Emirates Team New Zealand CEO Grant Dalton looks on as shore manager Sean Regan’s boys rip into a big overnight repair programme after the team pitchpoled in the Challenger semi-finals. The obvious damage was to the many thin carbon fairings and other areas of deck wiped out by the deep, violent dive, but the bigger concern was restoring complex control systems to reliability after water got into one hull. The wing was not pretty but damage was largely superficial and the team had a second wing ready to go
where possible limit upwind legs to three tacks and the downwind to two gybes. ‘The course is pretty narrow and you
feel like a pinball bouncing off the edges. It is a trifecta of sailing your opponent, the boundaries and the wind,’ Ashby contin- ued. ‘At times you need to short-tack to sail for the shifts and pressure.’ For the trailing boat engineering splits at
the top or bottom marks, rather than fol- lowing the leader, added manoeuvres and hydraulic demands, but offered passing opportunities. For the leader the quandary of covering or sailing to the breeze remained relevant and sometimes decisive. On Day 3 the match between Sweden’s
Artemis, skippered by Nathan Outteridge, and ETNZ took the game to a new level. An engaging battle was marked by close tacks, 30kt upwind legs, hair-raising port- starboard ducks at closing speeds of 60kt, tight roundings, more protests and penal- ties and nine lead changes. Probably the best racing of the series was
provided by these two teams. They were worthy contenders for the Louis Vuitton Cup with a fiercely contested final that included one finish with less than a second between them. Weather, as ever, played its role. ‘Man plans, God laughs’ goes the ancient Yiddish proverb and the fast-paced schedule of two, sometimes three, 20- minute races a day fell victim on occasion to too much and too little wind. Weather-dependent foil choices, crucial
to performance, also went awry when condi- tions failed to match the forecast. Foil and
36 SEAHORSE
rudder set-ups with the widest possible sweet spot were extremely valuable. Upper and lower racing wind limits
showed that the boats were incredibly effi- cient in the latter and vulnerable in the former. Light-air foiling, the boats were able to quadruple the windspeed, but towards the 24kt top-end breeze the course became a battlefield, strewn with shredded carbon fibre pieces as fairings blew off and crews moved into survival mode. Emirates Team New Zealand came off
worst in marginal conditions, pitchpoling before they crossed the startline against Ben Ainslie. ‘On a tight bearaway they tried to accelerate from 0-40kt right in the death- zone,’ explained former Cup skipper and Olympic Tornado sailor Chris Dickson. By the time the boat was righted the wing and hull looked as ragged as a scarecrow and the shore crew faced a Herculean task to get it racing again. Across the fleet shore teams often worked 24-hour shifts to main- tain equipment, repair damage or add modifications in the eternal quest for speed. Another concern this cycle was that the
introduction of large one-design elements would rob it of a major attraction. In 1851 the Marquis of Anglesey examined the black schooner America and declared, ‘If she’s right then we’re all wrong.’ Ever since fans have analysed the fea-
tures of every competitor and formulated theories about their strengths and weak- nesses. It has always been a design contest as much as anything. With only foils, fairings, rudders and
control systems left open to interpretation, there was a worry that this aspect would be lost. The make-up of design teams certainly changed, offering no place for yacht design and a huge demand for aerodynamicists and systems engineers. Much of their work is hidden, but there was still fun to be had observing the shapes of the foils and specu- lating on their mystic powers. Some were flatter than others, some
shorter, some had subtle curves, others hard kinks. As for control systems, Team New Zealand opted for their cycling set-up, using the superior power and endurance of leg muscles to pump oil and hunkered the ‘cyclors’ down low in an aerodynamic posture, like a bobsleigh team. It also freed up crew hands to take on
more functions. Burling’s Olympic partner Blair Tuke, for example, operated the foils with assistance from cyclist Andy Maloney, leaving the helmsman to lounge unruffled behind the wheel, making heads-up calls on tactics and strategy. Its biggest advantage, though, was up to
30 per cent more hydraulic power, which became a virtuous cycle (pardon the pun). The ability to simultaneously direct more hydraulic power throughout the boat meant that foil design could be more aggressive – less
stability and less drag
countered by more control inputs to main- tain equilibrium. Similarly, the wing trim could be more
responsive. Wing trimmer Ashby had a ropeless, all-hydraulic control system operated through an Xbox-type hand unit.
INGRID ABERY
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