/ 11 October 2002

Ill wind blows through the America’s Cup

There have been strong winds this month in the Hauraki Gulf, off Auckland’s Waitemata harbour, sufficiently biffing to postpone two days of the first stage of the interminable Louis Vuitton Cup which, by the end of January, will provide a challenger to Team New Zealand for the America’s Cup.

But the Kiwis — or rather the Kiwi boat, for this is the nub of controversy — were out practising anyway; at 25 knots the wind is too blowy for Vuitton rules but not for the big one.

No other nation, except possibly the Vietnamese, take to their boats quite so readily as New Zealanders. After the great god rugby, sailing, and often hard sailing, is probably the second sport.

In 1995 the late Peter Blake — right up there with ”Pine Tree” Colin Meads in the Kiwi sporting pantheon — went to San Diego and hijacked the America’s Cup from the ghastly Dennis Conner, bringing it back to the City of Sails.

There were those who had seen it coming, though, and understood what the prospect of a home defence of the cup could do for the local economy. Shrewd investors had bought up acres of waterfront real estate and, when Blake returned triumphant, saw their investment turn into a bonanza. What was virtually a derelict area was transformed for the 2000 defence into the plethora of bars, restaurants and apartments that is now the Viaduct Basin. Eight thousand full-time jobs were created, $NZ640-million (R3,2-billion) was spent, tourism flourished and the economy was boosted by 1%. The successful defence against the Prada team (Vuitton, Prada: what is it about these handbag manufacturers?) continued the good times. The feel-good factor was high.

There, though, it ends. A friend named Roger e-mailed me over the weekend and he is not a happy little Kiwi. He talked about the defections from Team New Zealand of key figures such as Russell Coutts and Brad Butterworth to foreign challengers for a shedload of money (and with the likes of Oracle’s mega-billionaire boss Larry Ellison involved, it really is shedloads) and the lack of the same national identity that accompanied the previous two campaigns.

”Mixed feeling here,” he wrote. ”The last campaign drew greatly on Blakie’s goodwill with the public. The massive fund-raising efforts galvanised the country behind them and the financial support gave them the technical edge. So when Coutts and the others jumped ship to the highest bidder there was a sense of betrayal, because the very people who brought the cup to New Zealand on the back of financial input from those like me were now doing their best to take it away again. They had made it personal for us and now the bastards march into town and want to take it away. It has made it obvious to everyone that the America’s Cup is nothing more than a stage for sailing mercenaries and far, far removed from anything ‘national’. It is like ballroom dancing at the Olympics.”

What this multimillion-dollar festival of willy-waving is not, as enthusiastically asserted by Greg Searle, the former Olympic gold medal oarsman and now a crew member on the British boat competing in Auckland, is the World Cup of sailing, any more than the football version would be if David Beckham and Sol Campbell played for Germany because that country paid more. The leading challenge syndicate represents a landlocked country. ”Who,” Roger pleaded, ”can take it seriously any more?”

Well, one short answer is an advertising executive called Dave Walden, former head of Saatchi and Saatchi Auckland. A few weeks ago he and some associates launched an initiative aimed at trying to regenerate the national fervour behind a Team NZ depleted in personnel and unable to compete financially. They have called it BlackHeart.

Good for them, you might think, a clever sideswipe at the renegades. But this is creating a rumpus too, for Walden has trodden on sensitive toes by incorporating into what is little more than an advertising slogan a word synonymous with Kiwi sport: All Blacks, Black Caps, and of course Black Magic, the America’s Cup boat. ”It has gone down like a fart in a chapel,” said one commentator. ”Black makes Kiwis proud,” says another, ”and heart is the source of our passion. Put them together and it sends out the wrong messages.”

The real criticism, though, has it that there is a cynical agenda that goes beyond a notion of spurring on the team. There are those who have a great deal of money and interest tied up in the area, and the continuing involvement of New Zealand in home defences is crucial to the growth of their investments. They can see money going down the pan and want to do something to protect it.

Already Auckland police have investigated claims that threats have been made against former Team NZ members, the inference being that there is a sinister connection with BlackHeart. Nothing has been found to substantiate the rumours but the link has been planted. One of Walden’s associates, meanwhile, is a real-estate agent called Bruce Whillans. His interest in the upsurge in property values brought by the cup is obvious.

As to the eventual outcome of the races, there is no clue and in Roger’s estimation won’t be until the main event. ”Last time Team NZ brilliantly spread rumours that they were worried about the speed of their second boat and everyone was calling it a pig. The gun goes for the first race and it hares off at twice the speed of Prada. Game over.”

But that’s handbag tycoons for you. — Guardian Newspapers 2002