We’ve worked on a number of projects together over the years, more recently Jim has represented Eastport Yacht Co. My boatbuilding Company in the United States, throughout Australasia and our relationship has remained as strong as ever.
But my favorite memory of Jim goes all the way back to the 1989 Admiral’s Cup in England.
Back then, the Japanese team fielded three boats. There was the 50-footer Will, which was Ogilvy’s project, a 45-footer run by Dengate and then there was our boat—a 40-footer named Spica run by Rick Deppe, Jim and I were assigned to Spica, and off we went to compete in one of the toughest sailing events in the world.
The final race of the Admiral’s Cup is, of course, the Fastnet Race—a fearsome event in any conditions.
Somehow, we allowed the Japanese management team to organize the food. Before the start, three cardboard boxes appeared aboard for what was supposedly a three-day race. Each box contained exactly the same thing: rice balls, Japanese omelets, and one lonely can of Spam for the three gaijins—the white guys.
Well, as fate would have it, the race took considerably longer than three days. Five or six days, if memory serves. We ran out of food long before we reached the finish, surviving on rice balls and carefully rationed slices of Spam while drifting around the Irish Sea in almost no wind.
One night, somewhere in the English Channel, the boat was barely moving. There was only a small rolling swell. The mainsail was slatting uselessly. Just the three of us on deck, Jim was steering, Rick and I were trying to trim the slatting sails.
Suddenly we noticed a strange bluish glow coming from below decks.
Then all hell broke loose.
The entire Japanese crew came exploding up the companionway, shouting and gesturing wildly.
Jim stood up, looked down the hatch for about two seconds, and announced in his usual understated manner:
“Oh, fuck. The “Charlie Uniform November Tango’s” have set fire to the boat.”1
Rick and I charged below while the Japanese crew appeared to be preparing to abandon ship.
What had happened was simple enough. We had an alcohol stove. One of the crew had attempted to refill it while it was still lit. The fuel spilled into the bilge, where there was a little water sloshing around. The alcohol floated on top, and suddenly the entire bottom of the boat was covered with dancing blue flames.
The really frightening part was that we had an unpacked spinnaker stretched across the bunks trying to dry out, with several more spinnakers nearby. Every time we extinguished one patch of fire, another would appear somewhere else as the boat rolled.
Meanwhile, the Japanese crew remained safely assembled on deck while Jim stood over them delivering a running commentary that I probably shouldn’t repeat in polite company.
Rick and I spent what felt like an eternity chasing blue flames around the bilges of Spica.
Eventually we got it under control.
But we came remarkably close to burning the mighty Spica to the waterline and sending her to the bottom of the Atlantic during a windless Fastnet Race.
And that was just one of many adventures I’ve shared with Jim over the years. Good on you, mate.
Tom
Tom Weaver, apart from being one of my best mates, has a wealth of hands on marine experience second to none. He is an acclaimed professional yachtsman, naval architect, and USCG-licensed captain based in Annapolis, Maryland. He is the co-founder of Eastport Yacht Company and Weaver Price Design, where he specializes in the design and construction of custom high-performance sailboats and powerboats.
Professional Racing: Weaver has competed globally on the 50-foot circuit and aboard Gaucho.
Record-Breaking Sailing: He notably crewed on Steve Fossett’s legendary 125-foot maxi-catamaran, Playstation, which broke transatlantic and around-the-world unlimited sailing records.
America’s Cup: He served as the CEO and team manager for the Mascalzone Latino America’s Cup challenge.
