Solo sailor slow and low-tech
Starting Tuesday, the most amazing boats afloat will race on the wings of the wind on San Francisco Bay — high-tech multihull marvels, 45 feet long. It is the start of the America’s Cup World Series, the opening round of the America’s Cup race next year.
America’s Cup organizers call these vessels “the fastest boats in the world … high-tech, grand prix race boats.” And the crews — seasoned professionals, five for each boat — are “the best sailors in the world.”
Well, that may be. But for my money, it would be tough to beat a modest, Japanese adventurer named Kenichi Horie. On a pleasant Sunday 50 years ago this month, Horie sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge in a 19-footlong, blue sailboat made of plywood.
A solo sailor
It was such an odd-looking little boat, flying an unusual flag, that William Fisher, out for a weekend sail, hailed the skipper.
“Where are you from?” Fisher yelled.
“Osaka,” the skipper of the little boat said.
He turned out to be a charming, 23-year-old amateur sailor, a small man with big dreams. Horie had sailed alone, 5,270 miles from the Nishinomiya Marina, near Osaka, Japan, to the Golden Gate. He was a pioneer; no one had ever made such a voyage.
His boat, the Mermaid, was definitely low-tech. Nowadays even a paddler in a kayak can consult electronic devices to navigate, check the tides and currents and the weather. But Horie sailed across the Pacific using only a sextant, which he had learned to use in his high school sailing club.
His voyage came before the advent of freeze-dried food; he subsisted on rice, some canned food and whatever fish he caught. He carried his own drinking water, supplemented by a bit of sake and 60 bottles of Asahi beer.
Horie was so frugal that he had a few bottles of beer left when he arrived in San Francisco. When reporters came to interview him after he tied up at a San Francisco dock, he offered them a drink.
He had no money, no passport, no visa. Technically, he was here illegally. At first, the Japanese were embarrassed by Horie’s voyage. He had not asked for permission to sail across the Pacific. His father sent a cable — “come straight home,” it said.
But in San Francisco, Horie was the toast of the town that 1962 summer, wined and dined. Mayor George Christopher arranged a visa for Horie and gave him the key to the city. The Japanese changed their minds, and Horie was hailed as a bold adventurer in his homeland and became a national hero. He wrote a book about the voyage, and there was even a hit movie.
His boat, the Mermaid, is still here. It’s on display at the San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park, so you can see for yourself how small and fragile it is.
But Horie is no one-voyage wonder: He’s sailed around the world alone twice, sailed a boat made of recycled aluminum cans, and made a voyage from San Francisco to Japan in a boat made of 528 recycled beer kegs.
In 1989 he sailed across the Pacific in 137 days on a boat only 9 feet long. He’s sailed on boats powered by pedals, by the sun, and even by the action of the ocean waves.
He is in the Guinness Book of World Records. An island off the South American coast is named for him.
His low-tech days are behind him. “He’s very aware of technology,” said Ray Lent, a Marin County yachtsman who knows him well.
“We are Buddhists — we believe in God,” Horie said once. “We also believe in Hewlett-Packard.”
Adventurer at 73
Although Horie is fond of San Francisco, he didn’t make it back to celebrate the 50th anniversary of his first voyage. Instead, a group of sailors, including Lent and Fisher, saluted him in absentia last Sunday at the San Francisco Yacht Club in Belvedere.
Horie is 73 now, still considering further adventures. Ken Dota, an old friend, has just written a book in Japanese about Horie.
“Horie-san,” he said, “is saving for another trip, I think. I believe he wants to be the oldest man to sail solo around the world.”