At large upon an ocean of mist
The first was on land at the hands of Jean Kearney, the effervescent PR organiser for this prestigious regatta. Jean was in a mad rush and probably already regretting the fact that she had offered to collect some press people meeting Roy Disney on his boat, Pyewacket. Thankfully, we reached port with our innards if not our sanity intact.
The second white-knuckler was on a twin-engined boat that felt like it had Captain Jean Luc Pickard at the helm. Perched along the side of the oversized rib, courtesy of sponsors Dubarry, our mission was to catch the big racers, Disney’s Pyewacket and Morning Glory, owned by Hasso Plattner. Two magazine photographers were along hoping to get some saleable shots.
Dubarry’s main man at Cork Week, John McHugh, was anxious to show off his company’s logo abreast the boom of Disney’s majestic boat. If we got close enough, we might even seen Mr Disney sporting his own pair of Dubarry’s.
The only trouble was that the weather was misbehaving again and, although there was plenty wind for racing, visibility was poor and nobody seemed to know exactly where the super-sized boats were.
Barely out of the harbour our 20-something skipper, David Venner, went to warp speed, churning the waves, ducking, diving and pitching into the wind. The robust Redbay rib had no bother taking it. We all hung on and pretended we were enjoying every panic-filled second.
One of the passengers, Cork Week volunteer, Ali Curran, artistic director of the Peacock Theatre in Dublin, wasn’t quite prepared for the crash, bang, wallop of crashing through the waves in a Rib at 40 knots an hour.
“It was the first time I’d ever done that,” she said. “I have never did so much praying.”
Twenty minutes out and through the mist we came abreast of a race in full swing. Dozens of boats were neck-and-neck, their full-bellied spinnakers billowing like a line of washing on a windy day. There were plenty of small, medium and large boats but nothing like the monsters we were seeking.
A few hundred yards to our right a small open rib had a Sky TV crew, the cameraman performing miracles of dexterity that would put an acrobat to shame.
On the grapevine, a sighting. “They’re just off the Old Head of Kinsale,” we were told, so off we raced, the skipper regaling us with a tale of Disney’s passion for fudge. “He had some flown in specially in a refrigerated container just so he could eat it at the temperature he likes.”
Considering that Mr Disney is one of life’s big spenders, this did not seem unlikely. In the meantime, we had a boat or two to catch.
The next sighting was towards Ballycotton but it seemed like another dead end. Then, suddenly the haze lifted and there to our left was the unmistakable shape of Pyewacket, an enormous boat with a mast that looked as high as Liberty Hall. Her crew were rolling a spinnaker and behind, was her twin, Morning Glory.
The Dubarry logo was clearly visible along Pyewacket’s boom and John McHugh looked like he had just won the America’s Cup: “It’s great exposure for a small Irish company like ours.”
It was impossible to say whether the elderly gentleman on deck was Roy Disney himself. It probably was, though, because he is, by all accounts, very much hands-on. The agility and energy of the man is amazing. It must be all that fudge.
CONNECT WITH US TODAY
Be the first to know the latest news and updates
