White-knuckle ride
On board with our America’s Cup sailors
I’m not usually in the habit of hanging around men’s changing rooms but, on this occasion, I was acting on orders.
My brief: to go behind closed doors at Emirates Team New Zealand and find out what makes this team tick.
So, there I was, on a brisk Monday morning, flanked by two cameramen, trying to reassure a changing room full of sailors getting dressed that this was normal in the TV world and necessary to tell the story.
It was fraught, awkward, quite weird actually, especially when we tried to find an appropriate place to pin a microphone on a topless Steven Ferguson. But he kindly took one for the team and somehow we all survived that unusual initial exchange.
With permission to freely roam around the base, what I soon discovered is that there is an army of people behind the sailors we see on the boat.
And for months, they have been working tirelessly around the clock to ready Team NZ’s new 75- foot foiling mono-hull for launch.
Boss of the Shore Team Sean ‘‘ Red Dog’’ Regan gave us a tour of the shed where Te Rehutai was being fitted out.
He was happy and proud to show us around, but quick to steer us away from filming anything sensitive which could be useful to the opposition.
Inside the hull is like Nasa’s International Space Station, with wires and computers everywhere, according to Red Dog. They call Regan that, because ‘‘when I bark, I bark loud’’. I believed him.
Pistol, Curly, Razor, Boomer – everyone on this team has at least one nickname – even Dalts, and Shoeb. And the atmosphere inside is surprisingly laid back and relaxed, despite several media storms blowing up while we were filming.
Team boss Grant Dalton seems up for all of them. He’s been fighting for this team for years. It’s part of his DNA, says chief operating officer Kevin Shoebridge.
‘‘All par for the course for the America’s Cup,’’ he says. ‘‘We keep the team insulated from the drama.’’
One afternoon last month I was briefly part of that sailing team and lived through some of that drama.
Grinder Joe Sullivan helped me into a dry suit, gave me a helmet, lifejacket and then pointed to my spot behind the preternaturally talented helmsman, Peter Burling.
Somehow I managed to tumble down into the cockpit and onto Pete who had to catch me – an inauspicious start.
I thought we would be taking a couple of easy laps cruising Auckland’s Hauraki Gulf, that it would be exciting to finally experience what it’s like to sail on a foiling race boat.
But seconds after the boat began moving, it was all I could do to stop myself tapping Peter on the shoulder and asking ‘where’s the seatbelt?’
But I already knew, there wasn’t one. Instead, I was told to hang on – with one arm – to the side of the boat. Which I somehow did for 40 terrifying but exhilarating minutes.
All that is visible in the footage for the first 10 minutes is my tiny little hand white-knuckled on the side. The boat is fast, it feels more like flying than sailing.
But having survived that – and after spending six weeks with this team – I have a new level of respect for the sailors and the 140 other team members.
The designers, boat builders, sailmakers and technicians who have sacrificed any semblance of a normal life for years so the rest of us can hopefully bask in the glory of holding on to the Auld Mug.
The exclusive story inside Team New Zealand will screen on SUNDAY, 7.30pm, TVNZ 1.