The next Generation G Class Cats

Thought I'd show you a little bit of what lies ahead for the next few years of maxi-cat yachts being designed in France.

It's well know that the true cutting edge of yacht design has been France or more importantly 'Sikkaflex Valley' in Brittany. If you sail offshore in any high end technology or race at the pointy end of the fleet all of your innovations have been tested and tried years in advance by designers and ocean racers from France. This is almost without exception. As ocean racing goes France leads the way by a country mile, all due to the French love for all things adventurous. To the French These ocean racing is on of the great adventure sports, unrivalled in scale and inspiration. Ocean racing attracts big sponsorship dollars and a consistant national audience. It's no wonder that so much development in speed and safety comes from this end of the world. We might think we have an edge when it comes to producing great sailors but all of them are utilising technology that is, in most cases, old hat to theses blokes.

The one example of this that I'd put forward is the canting keel. Think of any maxi monohull going around today without one. They've been on boats for the last 4 Vendee Globes. That's almost 2 decades of testing and racing before the western world even condsired it de rigeur. We have a lot to do to even consider ourselves amonsgt the avant garde when it comes to yacht design and above all else speed.

Here are a couple of snaps from the van Peteghem/Prevost team. This is a trimaran weighing in at 40 metres. Forget 100 ft maxis this is the real thing (that can even go to sea as well!).

In 2001 Club Med averaged something near 29 knots in a circumnavigation of just over 60 days. This thing (pictured) could quite easily see the Jules Verne Trophy go sub 50 days. This means we are building boats capable of going around the entire globe (from Europe south and do a lap of antarctica before heading north again) in under 50 days! The current record is something closer to 55. This is without expending any fuel to propel or assist in mechanising the boat's progress. The concept is mind blowing, the reality is something else again....

Northstar Martial Arts

At any local PCYC in Australia you're most likely to find various boxing and martial arts centres with a spattering of sweaty and pugilistic people 'going at it' in various ways and means. For years I'd look in on all of this like it was some secret coven of fighters and their trainers. They would train to breaking point amongst old men carrying buckets and mopping wooden floors. There was no obvious appeal to someone like me and there definitely wasn't an invitation to join. Well, a year and a half ago something changed and I marched into one of these institutions and asked the sensei if I could participate. My life hasn't been the same since.
The first impression you get when poking your head into a dojo is something approaching fear, at the very least its something disconcerting. These are people from all walks of life, old and young, kicking and punching thin air in almost perfect unison. They wear white pyjamas. They look motivated. They don't talk yet they're all stuck in close proximity to each other. For thirty or so people in a normal size room that's a lot of avoiding eye contact. Then there's the noise. The building practically shakes.
This is what I faced when I rang Andy one afternoon. It was a new year's resolution I think, and my wife was encouraging if not a little cautious - I have a habit of picking up fads and dropping them again almost in the blink of an eye. I approached the PCYC and sure enough the building was shaking. I think I joined in as an act of solidarity. Actually my reasoning was deeper than just what martial arts had been moulded into by Hollywood over the last twenty years. I'd slowly been feeling the ill affects of insecurity, especially when it came to personal protection. Actually when my home was burgled twice in two days later that year it was Shinbudo that helped me sleep at night. I wanted to know how to get a cheap shot on the boisterous drunk before I ran for my life. There was never any motivation to kick a brick in half from somewhere above my head whilst blindfolded and whilst wearing funny pants. I'd leave that to people who genuinely found that sort of thing interesting. I just wanted to get a handle on something that was starting to get me worried when I was drinking with mates or getting stuck on a quiet street at night. I had run out of excuses not to address it so I did what all sensible people do when they want to solve something - they look up the yellow pages. Andy asked me to drop by the next evening.
Well now I'm a blue tip grade and I'm absorbed, completely immursed in the art and all that it stands for. So what happened? What changed me so significantly as to want to be one of those fabled white pyjama wearing athletes? Patience grasshopper, all will be revealed.