After ten races over five days, shifting tides and reshuffled leaderboards, the 2025 J/70 World Championship came to a dramatic close at Yacht Club Argentino. Laura Grondin and her team Dark Energy (USA) made history, becoming the first helmswoman to win it.

Family values prevailed in the Corinthian division; Andrés Ducasse’s Ducasse Sailing Team (CHI) claimed top Corinthian honors in a heartfelt finish that brought the crowd to its feet for a father, four sons onboard, and a son coaching.

The outcome was decided in the final moments of the final race, but it took years to build to this moment. “It’s been a five-year run,” said Grondin. “None of this happens by yourself. It takes a team. What makes us world champion? The ability to be resilient. We have stood on a lot of podiums, but being first is different. It just is.”

The J/70 World Champion title is one of the most coveted in sailing — and now it belongs to Grondin and her team of tactician Taylor Canfield, back-to-back champion Ted Hackney, Ian Liberty, coach Robby Bisi, and husband Rick Grondin.

For the first time in Class history, the J/70 World Championship was held in South America. South American teams earned four out of the top five positions and swept the Corinthian top five.

“As the father of these kids, I’m grateful to God, grateful to sailing, and grateful for having taught my children and watched them become such excellent sailors. Above all, I thank my sons for the opportunity to compete by their side,” said Corinthian champion Ducasse. “We’ve done five Worlds and many South American championships, and this one has been the best organized of them all.”

“I’m so stoked to be the first female driver to win this, and I want there to be many more,” Grondin added. “I hope this is just the beginning. There were five helmswomen at this event, which is remarkable—but we need to have more. To all the women who competed on any boat: my shout-out to you. Keep going.

A testament to the deep level of competition, a different team won each race. There were no repeat winners. Olympic medalists, past J/70 World Champions, America’s Cup legends, SailGP athletes, TP52 champions, and a stacked field of Corinthian talent made up the deep fleet of 71 teams from 16 countries. Qualified teams are here from Argentina, Australia, Bermuda, Brazil, Chile, China, Germany, Spain, Great Britain, Italy, Portugal, Switzerland, Sweden, Turkey, Uruguay, and the United States.

“I’m here to win,” Grondin told the Class earlier this week. “Someone once asked me if it’s my goal to beat the other women. I said, ‘I’m out to beat everybody.’ That’s what it is.”

Ten races in a wide variety of conditions and challenging river current were held on the shallow Río de la Plata, the widest river in the world. The 2025 edition ran October 28 to November 1 in Buenos Aires, Argentina, hosted by Yacht Club Argentino, one of the most prestigious yacht clubs in the Southern Hemisphere.

Overall Top 3

• 1. Laura Grondin’s Dark Energy USA
• 2. Guillermo Parada’s Nildo ARG
• 3. Bruno Bethlem’s Aretê BRA

Corinthian Top 3

• 1. Andrés Ducasse’s Ducasse Sailing Team CHI
• 2. Dennis Bariani Koch’s Gabriela BRA
• 3. Maximo Videla’s Whisky ARG

Woman Helm: Laura Grondin’s Dark Energy USA

One-Pro: Ezequiel Despontin’s 707 ARG

Young Crew: Bruno Centanaro’s Pura Joda URG

Mixed-Plus: Laura & Leif Sigmond’s Norboy USA

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Making good use of an afternoon practice session ahead of the 2025 Helly Hansen Sailing World Regatta Series in Chicago in June—another step toward their goal of winning a J/70 world title, skipper Cate Terhune-Muller and her crew—husband Allan Terhune, tactician Steve Hunt and trimmer Nick Turney—are circling in the starting area on board the Terhune’s J/70 Casting Couch. This is the second practice start of the informal scrimmage, which will be followed by a short windward-leeward lap. Their intent is to win the pin, a high-risk move given the caliber of teams on the other boats.

“Let’s do a pin layline practice,” Hunt says to his teammates, his communication clear and focused. The pre-race ritual of testing angles and timing is critical—especially given that everyone is using GPS-based starting systems.

 Turney takes a quick glance at his watch and says, “3:15.”

 “Call pin lay, Alan,” Hunt says, his yes scanning for other boats positioning themselves and gauging their position relative to the pin-end bouy.

 “Not there yet,” Terhune responds.

 “3:10,” Turney updates the team.

The cadence and clarity of the pre-start conversation reflects the level of professionalism with the team and the hundreds of hours they’ve spent racing, training and deep debriefing with their all-star coach Chris Larson.

“Heading up here and tacking,” Hunt announces. “Barely there.”

 With less than 2 minutes until the start, Casting Couch maneuvers into position. Another boat, Richard Witzel’s Rowdy, is lining up for a pin end start as well.

“Rowdy wants the pin,” Hunt says, telling Muller-Terhune to, “Let him go in front of you.”

The countdown continues as they make their final approach.

 “One minute, 64 meters,” Turney calls out.

“If you overlap, go above,” Hunt instructs Muller-Terhune, who is focused on maintaining clean air and a strong position.

They double tack to position themselves to leeward of Rowdy, sails luffing to slow the boat. And as the seconds tick down, there’s a sudden urgency to Hunt’s calls.

“I think we’re in trouble here, guys,” He warns.

Turney jumps into the conversation with a countdown: “Ten, nine, eight…”

Their too advanced and Hunt quickly aborts the start, advising Muller-Terhune to jibe around the pin and clear themselves. They’re not alone: Over the VHF, the race committee reports that all boats are over early, except Rowdy.

Once underway, the crew transition smoothly into their upwind mindset. The J/70 is notoriously tricky in variable conditions—underpowered in light air but requiring depowering as soon as the wind reach 8 to 10 knots, but Casting Couch’s collective experience has them dialed in to the speed they need.

“Take a deep breath and go fast,” Hunt encourage his skipper as they tack back on to starboard and regroup.

 “Little puff on,” says Turney, who is scanning the blue waters of Lake Michigan. The gusty northwesterly wind is blowing through Chicago’s concrete maze of buildings. “Little puff here in about three, two, one. Number is 040, 5.6 is the target.”

 The crew constantly communicates about the wind pressure and their positioning on the racecourse relative to other boats. “Rowdy crossing your bow right now,” Hunt reports as they make their way up short beat. “Not bad,” Hunt adds, satisfied with their position despite having done two extra tacks after the start. For this practice session, teams have agreed to 270-degree penalties for any OCS starts, rather than boats returning to the line to restart.

 Their upwind performance has them right back among the leaders—none of whom have done their penalty turns.

 Before they approach the windward mark, the tactical discussion shift to their downwind strategy.

 Just got a 10-degree header,” Hunt says as they reach the top of the course. “It’s probably a long bear-away set.”

 “Forty-five seconds each way,” Terhune says. “Maybe it lasts 30.”

“I think it’s winging conditions, so let’s wing pretty early in the run and just wing the whole time—kite on port,” Hunt calls.

As the bow passes the mark and Muller-Terhune turns downwind and the spinnaker fills with a crisp snap of sailcloth.

“Got a kite,” Turney says, after quickly pulling the halyard and taking the spinnaker sheet from Terhune. “Mine.”

“Stay low, winging main shortly,” Hunt says as they turn downwind.

The run presents a new set of challenges, given the J/70 wasn’t intentionally designed to be a boat that’s winged downwind. The perfect technique is next-level boathandling, requiring constant adjustment and communication between trimmer and helm.

Winging is a tactical sailing technique that allows the boat to sail directly toward the leeward mark with less sailed distance by having the jib or spinnaker out opposite the mainsail, avoiding the main’s wind shadow.

In light winds, winging is less effective due to insufficient sail pressure, and in heavy winds, transitioning to planing is typically better. The crossover isn’t always obvious. The technique requires a clear wind lane to ensure the sail remains stable.

The strategic use of winging involves making decisions based on constantly changing wind conditions, fleet positioning, and mark proximity. It’s essential to adapt quickly to changing winging angles and assess when to shift modes, such as during a lift or a header or positioning with other boats.

Practicing winging involves refining communication and timing within the crew to switch modes swiftly and effectively. When done right, winging opens up tactical opportunities like cutting corners at marks, forcing competitors into difficult positions, and maximizing speed toward downwind gates or finishes.

“Does it feel a little light to wing maybe?” Hunt asks Turney, considering their options. 

“Maybe it’s borderline winging. Yeah,” Turney agrees. “No lower Cate, going straight here.”

 Their refined teamwork and technique are on full display as they navigate the short run to the finish, with Hunt watching behind, calling out waves and pumping opportunities and then looking forward to the find the leeward marks.

 “See the gates? Probably 50-50,” he says, already planning their approach to the leeward gate even though they’re only halfway down the leg.

 “One little pump,” Turney calls, feeling a slight pull on the spinnaker sheet in his hand. “No higher than that Cate, and a wave here. Three, two, one, flatten and pump. Good angle there.”

 “Nice job,” Hunt replies.

 As they approach the leeward gate, they need to choose which mark to round and what the best approach will be. “OK, nice lane here,” Hunt observes. “High wing is probably best. High wing right now. Looking at the gates.”

 “Almost kicking a field goal,” Hunt says, referring to their position between the gate marks.

They continue their downwind run with fluid precision, constantly making small adjustments to waves, puffs and wind shifts. “Little righty here,” Turney tells Muller-Terhune, who responds with a small movement of the tiller extension laying in her lap.

 “The high wing mode looks pretty good here,” Hunt confirms.

Setting up for a jibe near the bottom of the course, Hunt takes over the spinnaker sheet from Turney, who will focus on jibing the mainsail. They quickly talk through it beforehand to ensure they’re in sync. The main comes across, Hunt trims the spinnaker to the new exit angle and the two of them call out in unison, as if finishing each other’s sentences: “Two-one, flatten…and pump…”

Another flawless jibe, and they finish overlapped with several other boats.

For this practice session, the gates serve as the finish line and Casting Couch glides across the line with the leaders. A solid comeback, and possibly a race win had the race winners done their 270s, Hunt suggests.

The outcome of this 15-minute practice race confirms why Casting Couch is one of the top teams in the ultra-competitive J/70 scene. The crew’s ability to read the conditions, make quick tactical decisions, and execute maneuvers with precision had put them in a strong position. It’s also proof, that while everyone will have an OCS or second-row start at some point, the best teams put the mistake behind them and focus on advancing one boat, one puff, one pump and one good call at a time.

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A weak southerly breeze straggles across Lake Washington as the last of Seattle’s fall colors cloak the hillsides of the still-leafy Leschi neighborhood. Four local J/70s are gathered for a driving clinic, and the onboard combinations are unusual: all captains and no crewmembers. Ron Rosenberg, an Olympic-level coach and world-champion sailor, is helming a borrowed coach boat—a VHF in one hand, a Timex Ironman strapped to his wrist. “Be thoughtful about your next 35 seconds,” he advises the group as they roll ­rapid-fire into another starting sequence.

Absent are the sharp elbows that often define one-design ­starting lines. Instead, each team focuses on hitting the line on time and at pace, while extending the “grace and space” to one’s ­neighbors that Rosenberg outlined in his dockside briefing.

But instead of completing a race, the winner is determined by which helm gets their boat up to VMG speed first. Rosenberg issues a few gentle critiques and compliments as the boats return to the starting area. Drivers rotate, from helm to forward hand, and Rosenberg restarts the drill. Welcome to Seattle’s thriving J/Pod, where Ron’s the man with the plan: the plan to get faster together.

The J/Pod is composed of sailors of mixed ­ability and experience levels, racing aboard used J/70s flying secondhand sails. The group has amassed a strong regional reputation as a positive and encouraging place to advance one’s skills while having fun. Much of this rests on the foundation of mutual respect that Rosenberg has ­cultivated from the start and has nurtured through a shared ethos of improving one’s own skills by helping others to learn. The resulting tide of knowledge gained through Olympic-style coaching is lifting all boats, and J/Pod participants can count on Coach Ron to bring on-the-water joy and a high value per minute to each session.

Some backstory.

Spend enough time around Washington state’s saline waters, and you’ll doubtless hear about the J, K and L pods of resident orcas. While all three travel seeking salmon, the J pod tends to frequent the waters surrounding the San Juan Islands, where the Rosenbergs have long owned a home, and where they lived full time during the COVID-19 lockdowns.

Given Rosenberg’s background, it’s not surprising that baking sourdough bread wasn’t on his agenda.

“This just started as a COVID project,” Rosenberg says, explaining that his international coaching gigs fell victim to travel restrictions. But finding himself on Orcas Island in a community of sailors and resourceful people presented a new and socially distanced coaching opportunity. “We had a doublehanded theme,” he says, noting that the original group was comprised of two-person “pandemic pods.”

Rosenberg’s marketing background (he’s long been the driving force behind McLube), his love for the area’s resident orcas, and the group’s chosen steeds provided the perfect moniker.

“We picked the J/70 as an inexpensive learning platform,” Rosenberg says. “You can really have some fun with it. The boat gets up and goes in the breeze.”

The J/Pod began with a handful of boats and sailors on Orcas Island, but, as word of Rosenberg’s coaching and the group’s culture spread, numbers increased as restrictions eased.

Rosenberg says that he realized that he was on to something big “when we had as many sailors coming up from Seattle to join us on Orcas Island for coaching sessions as we had sailors on Orcas.”  

Pacific Northwest racing sailors, it turns out, wanted high-level coaching.

Rosenberg smartly followed this lift and eventually brought his bit to the mainland. The Seattle J/Pod, for example, was founded in early 2023, and there are subpods as far south as Hood River, Oregon, and as far north as Bellingham, Washington. Today, there are about 55 J/70s and 300-plus sailors involved with the program.

Even more impressive, group members also have a few boats strategically placed on the East Coast and in Europe that they “cheap charter” to each other to enable travel sailing.

This growth, sailors say, wouldn’t have happened without the ­culture that Rosenberg instilled.

“We’re all there to learn together, and we’re all there to get better, and we’re all there to have fun,” says Mike Breivik, a founding J/Pod member (his was the Pod’s second J/70). “We’re not out there to tack on each other, and we’re not out there to be aggressive against one another. I think it’s one of the foundations that has allowed the group to go from two boats to what it is today.”

While Rosenberg doesn’t have an Olympic medal, he’s personally campaigned for the Games four times, and he’s coached numerous aspiring Olympians. This background, he says, instilled many important lessons that he’s carried to the J/Pod, from fostering strong mutual respect to the concept of focusing on DTL (that’s ‘distance to leader’) to the strategy of mentally erasing all other boats from the course and always sailing one’s own boat at its target VMG.

“We play chess, not checkers,” Rosenberg says, noting that while he welcomes assertiveness, he frowns on unnecessary aggression. “We don’t tack on others to push them back; we try to outthink them, outsail them and out-boatspeed them. I train sailors to look forward and to make good decisions, rather than watching the rearview mirror and trying to hold others back.”

One big advantage of this style of sailing, Rosenberg says, is that J/Pod fleets tend to be more compressed around the buoys than other one-design fleets. “It makes it feel like we’re racing in a 40- or 50-boat fleet, rather than a 20- or 25-boat fleet,” he says, noting that this fosters friendships, community, and learning opportunities. “Everybody has more fun when they’re not being hammered on off the line. Nobody deserves to be the victim of a bad experience.”

Another critical component of the J/Pod is a commitment to avoiding boat-on-boat contact. Should contact transpire, sailors apologize for the incident, and either debrief it on the water or back at the dock, often publicly. “They always know they can count on me to help as a soft-spoken arbiter,” Rosenberg says.

“Every day that we go on the water with this group, we come back better,” Doug Hansen says. “This is probably the fastest learning curve we’ve ever seen.”

Then there’s Rosenberg’s commitment to delivering a strong return on investment for everyone’s time. J/Pod boats are often wet-sailed, their jibs hoisted and roller-furled, kites left rigged, and mainsails boom-flaked and covered, allowing sailors to go from their car to the course in under 10 minutes. Presail briefings are kept tight, and debriefs often happen via a WhatsApp group.

“He creates a wonderful, positive environment, where we’re all excited to be here and excited to share,” says Bev Multerer, a lifelong racer who has been involved with the J/Pod since 2022. “This is some of the most fun I’ve ever had sailing.”

This level of high-quality coaching isn’t free, but Rosenberg’s business model reflects the same kind of forward thinking as the culture that he’s curated.

“Typically, somebody hires me for the day as their coach, and I either sail on their boat with them or I’ll be in the coach boat—whatever they want,” Rosenberg says. “I invite everybody else because that helps everyone learn faster, including the client who pays for the day.”

J/Pod members take turns “sponsoring” these sailing days. “We try to make it a program where everybody has something to gain,” Rosenberg says. “The selfish part is that I get to coach the people who I love, doing what I love, right here at home without having to get on an airplane.”

Not that airplanes aren’t involved. The J/Pod has its East Coast and European boats, and Rosenberg travels to about a dozen regattas each year with clients, and other attending J/Pod teams are invited to join up as tuning partners.

Once back home, traveling sailors debrief their experience with Rosenberg and with the greater group, detailing what they’ve learned, further caffeinating the collective learning curve. “This inspires everybody else, and it gives them confidence that they too can travel to regattas,” Rosenberg says.

Take the 2024 J/70 Worlds, which unfurled off Palma de Mallorca, Spain. The J/Pod was represented by three teams.

When asked if he would have traveled to Spain without his J/Pod experience, Boris Luchterhand, an early member of the Orcas Island J/Pod, was succinct. “No, no chance,” he says. “We had some great races and some OK races. We learned so much, it was an ­incredible experience.”

While clients fund the J/Pod’s on-the-water program, Rosenberg averages 20 to 30 hours of pro bono time per week. This includes time that Rosenberg devotes to onboarding new members, explaining the group’s culture and his expectations for all participants, and helping new teams find and purchase good used boats. Then, once aboard, he helps get these teams rigged and launched.

“We buy our sails at half-price or less,” Rosenberg says. “I hand-select and sometimes purchase large numbers of used sails from some of the bigger-budget teams around the world, get them shipped here, and then hand them off to the teams who want them.”

Then there’s the WhatsApp channel, where Rosenberg frequently shares detailed notes and multimedia content with all 300-plus ­
J/Pod members, almost half of whom are women. This combination of real-world and virtual coaching, coupled with Rosenberg’s ability to lean on other group role models—some of whom have Olympic medals, world-championship titles and America’s Cup experience—creates a powerful learning opportunity.

“Every day that we go on the water with this group, we come back better,” says Doug Hansen, a longtime local big-boat sailor who, along with his wife, Shelagh (also an experienced big-boat sailor), bought their J/70 and joined the group in 2023. “This is probably the fastest learning curve we’ve ever seen.”

Hansen describes the J/Pod experience as “drinking from a fire hose,” and says that he’s dumbfounded by the group’s talent level and ethos of sharing wisdom. “In between races, you’ve got Olympic medalists sailing past you, commenting on your jib trim, and why they were able to pinch you off,” Hansen says, ­noting that Rosenberg encourages faster teams to approach fellow ­competitors and advise how they bested them around the buoys.

In addition to many local sailing greats—including Jonathan and Libby McKee, Carl Buchan, Keith Whittemore, Christina and Justin Wolfe, Mallory and Andrew Loe, and Dalton Bergan—the J/Pod includes many Corinthian-level sailors who are interested in translating their off-the-water achievements to increasing their speed around the buoys. “So many of these sailors are business leaders and are so successful in other areas of life,” Rosenberg says. “All I’ve done is get them on the water in a way that they can discover their passion.”

While the J/Pod is flourishing in the Pacific Northwest, Rosenberg says that the keys to success aren’t bound by any particulars of latitude, longitude, or the group’s chosen steed. “I think the concept would flourish in lots of different places,” he says. “There’s no reason it couldn’t work in any multitude of one-design classes.”

Legacy is a heavy word, but as the J/Pod nears its five-year anniversary, it’s a hard one to escape. Rosenberg—true to his humble and gregarious nature—says that this isn’t something he spends time pondering. “If I’ve ignited passion for sailing in some small way, I chalk that up as a big win,” he says. “It’s awesome that we have so many smart, thoughtful people involved, and all they were lacking was either the time or the experience to know what it feels like to go sailing in a high-performance boat, at a high level, and to really enjoy themselves with their friends.”

Throw in the concept of self-improvement through collective advancement, and he says that the J/Pod model goes from “a ­win-win situation to one of ‘you can’t possibly lose.’” Neither could any of the boats that were gathered for the driving clinic. Sure, one bow was consistently the first to drop and accelerate, but, by day’s end, other boats and drivers were also winning.

Grace and space, it turns out, are as critical to enabling J/Pod sailors to thrive as bountiful salmon runs are to the group’s ­namesake orca pods.

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Doug Newhouse and his boat partner, Jeremy Wilmot, the 30-something Aussie-American pro sailor, won the J/70 World Championship title in Palma de Mallorca, Spain, this past September, in an effort that provides a compelling blueprint for any team with big-regatta aspirations. We sat down for an in-depth debrief in the library of the International Yacht Restoration School in Newport, Rhode Island, with a view over waters where Team Yonder trained and sail-tested for many days and more hours than Newhouse cares to remember, all of which led to a highly honed team and fast sails that propelled them to the top of the 98-boat fleet.

Where to begin…Doug?

Newhouse: The successes that I’ve had in my sailing career have all started with the crew, and I will say we had the best crew in the country, if not the world, with Jeremy, Ted Hackney and George Peet. When we started talking about going to Palma for the Worlds, I asked right away, “What is it going to take to have a shot at winning, and not just showing up as a participant?”

That meant ramping up the number of regattas that we were doing. It meant going to Europe and sailing. It meant coaching, doing summer training days with other top teams, and it meant more of a focus on all the different details and all the elements that had to be put together to actually go and win a major regatta like this. It meant having all of us consistently work together as a group. It meant having a focus and a specific goal.

And your coach, Evan Aras, had a hand in this win too.

Newhouse: We would not have won without Evan. He’s incredibly analytical, and I’m very analytical, so we can relate. He’s not a “rah, rah, guys, you’ve got this,” kind of coach. There’s none of that. It’s all fact-based. He has trained so many Olympians in Palma, so he knew the bay and the conditions there, which made an enormous impact. He knew, based on thousands of other people’s performances in Palma, where you want to be for certain weather conditions. We had three days of southerlies and five days of northerlies, and because of his knowledge of the venue, we understood exactly what was going on with the breeze and how that would impact pressure on the racecourse. He’s very cutting edge and very, very good.

Doug, as the elder and only amateur on a boat full of hot-shot pro sailors, what’s your takeaway from the experience?

Newhouse: One thing that always impresses me is the communication on board; it’s so honed. There’s no extraneous chatter. It’s all highly relevant and designed around getting one more place over another boat. If you do enough racing, you realize that over a five-day event, one or two boats in every race can make all the difference. It’s easy to say, “Well, sixth place is pretty good in a fleet of 95 boats.” But what if you get fourth? That’s better. And that’s what it’s like sailing with these guys—they never let up. We’d always be trying to gain another place.

There was an incredible singularity of focus that we had during the event. For example, measurement day is usually a day off from sailing so, in Palma, we went to play golf. We were scheduled to play 18 holes, but when I learned that the boat could go back into the water and we could actually go out sailing, I cut it to nine holes. I wasn’t happy with how our starting drills had been going and felt that we needed to start more, so we went back out.

Wilmot: We’re lucky to have Laura Grondin’s Dark Energy as our training partner, and we always line up with each other at regattas. When the race committee was having technical issues on the practice race day, we just went off and did moding practice with them—working on our high, low and fast modes. That was the best 90 minutes we had in the lead-up to the Worlds because we learned so much with them in that one session, and it all applied to the first day.

What makes a good lineup?

Wilmot: The common mistake that I see with a lot of other teams is they just go straight line testing, and they’ll start with one boat in a strong position or end the test when one boat is compromised. I prefer to line up as if we’re in a tough spot, like coming off the start and having to hold a high lane, because how are you ever going to find your high mode unless it’s absolutely forced upon you? So, I suggest to everyone, if you’re losing a lineup, don’t just reset. Just wait, because it’s a great ­opportunity to see if you can last in that mode or bad lane for 20 seconds. If you can extend that to 45 seconds during a race, there will be more options for you.

“Moding” is such a buzz phrase these days. What does that mean in a J/70?

Wilmot: In Palma, moding was our greatest strength because it was so shifty. It’s not that we were faster than everyone else in a straight line, because we weren’t, but we were a lot better than everyone else at ­switching modes. For ­example, if we needed to go to a high mode, we could do it straight away. Or if we needed to go to a fast mode, we could switch to it straight away. I can think of at least five lanes that saved our regatta, where we had to go fast mode or we had to go high mode, and that was our race. It comes down to how we warm up before the start: We find our modes, and if the conditions change between races, we go upwind and find them again.

I believe that the jib really sets the mode and what you’re trying to achieve, and especially on a J/70, where you can manipulate the clew position so much. With the inhauler and the sheet tension and the car position, you can change it so much. With just the smallest ease in the inhauler or the sheet, your power and your grip from the leech and the power down in the foot of the jib can change so dramatically. So, we start with the jib and work back from there to the mainsail.

What Doug was talking about with our communication, it got to the point where we didn’t need to say that we needed more grip, or that we needed more power, or to go to fast mode. Everyone was just so in tune with the situation, and I would just say, “Mode change,” and bang, everything moves. People get so caught up with hiking that they don’t want to switch gears because you’re taking weight off the rail. But the gear is the lane, and it’s how quickly you can switch those gears. Our approach to Palma was to do the most gear changes and more mode changes than any other boat out there. And we’re just going to do them faster.

You went out and won the first race and followed that with two sevenths. That’s impressive.

Wilmot: It was just one of those days where we never got forced off a shift by another boat, and we sailed to where we wanted to go. An interesting thing, though, was that we didn’t actually pass boats on the first two days. We actually lost boats on the first two days.

What we realized was that we were playing the shifts and being aggressive on the upwind legs, taking leverage on the pack when we thought it was appropriate, but on the downwinds, we were kind of just going wing-on-wing, and everyone was coming into us. We realized that we needed to be more aggressive with mode changes downwind.

I always try to sail ­downwind with the mentality that it’s where you can pass the most boats. So, I would say on the first two days, we were pretty bad downwind, and the last two were probably the best. We completely changed our mindset and found a way to switch modes faster than everyone else and attack the boats in front of us rather than just going to the wing, which was limiting us to what we could do.

We definitely got stuck in the mentality of just going 7 knots straight at the mark. On the short courses we normally sail at home, it’s doable—you just point out the mark because you’re not going to lose that much. The person who goes planing off to the side is going to need a pretty significant shift. But when the legs are 2 miles long, you’re almost sailing into a different weather system when you go planing off the side. You get different clouds, one side of the course is hot, the other side is cold.

The third day came with a bit of a slump—a 23 and a 17. What happened there?

Wilmot: Instead of focusing on getting better as the regatta went on, we went into that day thinking that what we’re doing was working, and we just got exposed. We took risks where we wouldn’t normally take risks. We just kept taking a little bit more leverage and a little bit more leverage, and that resulted in our 23rd. We also didn’t adjust our approach on the starting line in that we didn’t push for the favor end and we got lazy with our shifts. You know, we started looking for that big shift. Instead of taking a 5-degree shift that would take us across the course and link up with that next gust, we were like, “We’re only down 5.” Well, 5 degrees with 98 boats can be a lot. We lost a huge lead that day.

 
I imagine that required a bit of reset, which then got you back on track with a 10th and a second in the next two races.

Wilmot: We did get a bit of an ass kicking on the mental side of it. We could have just let the regatta run its course, or go out and do something about it. We’re definitely believers in there being no one big thing to change, but we’re open to changing 10 small things, and that’s what we did. We changed our lower-to-cap (shroud) ratio on the rig a tiny bit, we changed our jib car positions slightly, and we changed how we were trimming the jib a little bit—went away from vang sheeting and playing the traveler too much. On the third day, we were sailing the boat flatter than everyone, and the next day, we were more heeled than everyone. We went from like 12 to 14 degrees of heel to like 18 to 20.

You go into the final day—which was ultimately a one-race situation—with a 15-point lead and somehow stage an incredible comeback in the last race to finish 11th and win the whole thing. How’d you pull that off?

Wilmot: We did our normal thing where we start just up from the group and be confident about our acceleration. There was a 15- to 20-degree lefty, and it was like an auto attack for the entire fleet. I look over my shoulder, and the two boats we need to beat are 1-2 and we’re at least 40th. We sailed our worst leg of the regatta that first leg, but the last three legs were our best. I went back and looked at the race statistics, and I’m pretty sure we were the fastest on that first downwind, and gained the most distance on the leaders. And then we did it on the next upwind and took 45 seconds off the leaders, and then by the finish, we took another 30.

People get so caught up with hiking that they don’t want to switch gears because you’re taking weight off the rail. But the gear is the lane, and it’s how quickly you can switch those gears. Our approach was to do the most gear changes than any other boat out there. And we’re just going to do them faster.

For an owner looking to build a J/70 team from scratch, what are key skillsets to get right?

Wilmot: The front position is unique on a J/70 because you’ve got a person who’s sitting straight upright, and they’re looking straight at the wind, so if you don’t have someone up there who has a tactical and strategic mentality, you’re really wasting that position. The trimmer has the hardest job because they’re doing everything, and the crossovers for all those modes are tiny. The trimmers in this fleet are unbelievable, and the ones who can do it really well are in a league of their own. So, if you’re filling that position, you should be looking at the best sailor you can find and give them time to get used to the J/70.

 Newhouse: A number of owners have told me that they are both impressed with and jealous of our team chemistry. We do get along extremely well, and there is no fighting on the team. Everybody knows what they’re supposed to be doing at any given point in time. It’s having a team that’s in a groove. We had a great group for this regatta, and it all came together for us, but I think the chemistry thing is so important. I accept the fact that I brought on board the absolute best people I  could possibly find. I do this in businesses all the time. I rely implicitly on having the talent to drive results, and I know that we had the best talent in Palma.

The post The J/70 World Champions Debrief appeared first on Sailing World.

The five-minute horn sounds as the J/70 class flag goes up. It’s shake-and-bake time for the team on Brutus III. I deliver my signature bony-knuckle fist bumps to my teammates, a tradition I brought to them as the only American on board. We do it before every race to loosen up and get excited. It’s Day One of the 2023 J/70 World Championships in St. Petersburg, Florida, and “No Windersburg,” as we like to call it, is living up to its reputation. The forecast is set to improve as the day goes on, but we all know that this first light-air race will reveal who has what it takes to win the world title. 

We’ve been preparing for these conditions all year thanks to Mother Nature delivering light winds at several events at Davis Islands, Miami, the UK, and typically windy Lake Garda. All of our light-air training and racing has taught us several lessons: patience, clear communication, coordination moving around the boat, and important feedback loops. Most importantly, we’ve learned to trust in one another, and to do our jobs and do them well. While there might be literal stepping on toes on our boat as we sail five-up, there is no overstepping our individual roles. We own our positions and back up one another whenever necessary. We all bring different but complementary skills, and we use those to work as equals—a true team mentality.

As the final gun sounds for the first race, our focus is simple: sail normally, which is easier said than done in an 83-boat fleet full of talented teams. But nothing is ever normal in the first race of a big-fleet world championship. Thanks to our practice and preparation, we have a decent start and good boatspeed off the line. This was a major goal for our team, and we knew that good, clean starts would allow us to control our race. But even with our good start, we find ourselves hung out in an unfortunate windshift, which puts us in the chaotic midfleet scrum. It’s daunting and disheartening to see so many boats ahead of us, but it’s a place we’ve been before. We buckle down and get to work, crossing the finish line after what feels like a three-hour race; 53rd is not a Worlds-winning result to start with.

At this point, we know that something needs to change. We need to shake off the nerves, reset, and get after it again. I go below and pass up water bottles and the traditional Brutus-style energy bars: the best chocolate fudge brownies. The ­discussion while we scarf our sweet treats is to remain positive, and we joke about what a relief it is to have our drop race already out of the way. We all know that we have a long week ahead and anything can happen. We stick to the game plan: Sail normally, do our best, and keep the positive energy at full tilt. Small windshifts make a huge difference on long legs, so we know that we need to keep a ­particularly close eye on them.

We then go straight back into our normal prestart routine by going head-to-wind near the midline committee boat and determining the side of the line we want to start at. Then we go upwind on starboard and port tacks to get our bearings and check our rig settings. After one more wind check and a back-down to make sure we were free from all the little bits of seagrass we’ve seen on the course, we ping the ends of the line and time our runs to the line.

Again, we’re shaking-and-
baking at the five-minute signal. The breeze is building, the sugar is kicking in, and we are ready to redeem ourselves. And redeem we do, crossing the finish line with a third. We could attribute the brownies as the secret to success, but what really happened is we found our stride. 

For the remainder of the week, our best sailing is done when we find ourselves with room to play, and we constantly adjust our technique to even the smallest changes in wind strength. Our trust in one another to change modes easily provides us with opportunities to make big gains both upwind and downwind. Knowing this, our tactician, Ben Saxton, can make confident decisions about what our plan is and utilize the feedback loop of information we constantly have going in the boat.

Our driver, Thomas Mallendine, provides Saxton with how the helm is feeling and what he needs. Chris Grube constantly relays big-picture wind reports, what phase the breeze is in, and how far up and down we are from our mean compass numbers. Downwind, he keeps the communication flowing about how the spinnaker feels, helping Mallendine drive to the mode we need. Charles Thompson, Brutus’ fearless owner, provides feedback on relatives both upwind and downwind, and I call short-term puffs and lulls upwind and downwind. It might seem like a lot of chatter, but we have been able to fine-tune it with practice so that we can make the best decisions while racing without being on information overload.

As a team, we find that if we are overly dialed in, we’re too stiff and don’t execute the boathandling as well. Overcoming that is what makes this team so special. All of the technical information, boathandling, feedback and preparation make us a fast team, but our real magic is our banter. No one on the boat is safe from being lovingly picked on, and nothing diffuses tension faster than making fun of yourself. It’s not constant, but at many points during races, and always between races, we turn to laughter to set us straight. There’s no point in playing if we’re not having a good time.

Before the last race of the regatta, we have a decent overall lead in the standings, but we know we need to sail well to win. It’s still anyone’s game. I am nervous. We all are, but we’ve talked about it. Being nervous is OK—as long as we utilize those nerves and enjoy the privilege of being in a ­position to be nervous. 

Lo and behold, the start of the last race is our worst of the regatta. We’re deep in the third row and about to lose it all. But we harness our nerves differently than we did in the first race: We laugh and move on. We sail fast, make smart decisions, and keep our composure. We sail our way, the Brutus banter in full effect, and it works. This is what makes winning this world ­championship title so special.

It’s an amazing feeling to win my first world championship, and I am honored to be the first American woman to win the J/70 world title. But the satisfaction is far greater than that. It might sound cliche or sappy, but I’m proud that we won as a team, as best mates, laughing and smiling from start to finish.

The post How the Worlds Were Won appeared first on Sailing World.

The most recognizable ­spinnaker in the US J/70 fleet is arguably the white one with a stylized red stick figure. And it is immediately recognizable because Brian Keane’s Savasana has been a fixture of the class since 2012, usually near the front of the fleet and found wherever J/70s gather in numbers. Keane and his teammates have won plenty of J/70 regattas over the years, but never a world championship. Close, yes, but never No 1.

However, his current cast of teammates—Thomas Barrows, Ron Weed and Conner Harding—have their collective minds set on the impending Worlds in St. Petersburg, Florida, in November. There’s no reason to doubt this could be their year to win the big one, especially considering they ran the table on the Miami J/70 winter regatta circuit with three big wins and then followed up with another at Charleston Race Week.

You might think this peak in Keane’s long sailing career, which includes Junior National Championships, All-American honors and the Hinman Trophy, and has spanned eras in the J/105 and J/80 classes, is the result of some ­game-changing sail development or magic bullet. But you’d be wrong. The difference is Keane’s present battle with cancer.

“Fewer things bring about clarity, focus and purpose than knowing you have been diagnosed,” Keane says when we speak by phone in April after winning the J/70 Midwinters. “I can say for sure that has helped me this year because I want to win. It’s a focus. Millions of people have cancer, but it’s real, and I’m confident in a full recovery. That purpose is important to me.”

That is certainly a far ­bigger challenge than battling at the top of a pro-stacked one-­design fleet.

“A lot of people may feel the J/70 class is overly pro-ed up, and I can understand that. But for myself, I want to go against the best of the best, and I love the fact that the class is not being dumbed down. It’s still exciting for me, and many of the newer teams to the fleet to go against some of the people they’ve been reading about or have heard about.”

What’s on the road to the Worlds for Savasana?

So far this year, we’ve done two Davis Island events, then the Helly Hansen Sailing World Regatta in St. Petersburg, the Bacardi Invitational in Miami, the Midwinters and Charleston. We’ll do [HHSWRS] in Annapolis and Marblehead, North Americans in Chicago, and then we’ll be spending some time in St. Pete in October before the Worlds.

Given that most well-­attended events like the winter ­regattas are 50- to 60-boat affairs, what do you find are keys to success on these crowded racecourses?

First is the team ­mentality. To have any chance of winning, every team member must understand what their job is and do it to the best of their ability. At the same time, each of us needs to understand what every other person’s job is and what the interdependency is. That interaction is super important to our team and our time in the boat. At any point in the race, for example, I know what Thomas or Ron is doing, and that simplifies the language on the boat. We are always together during events. We learn together, we eat together, watch movies at night and talk about sailing all the time.

The second thing is communication, which does sound trite, but there are two categories of this: communicating what’s happening outside the boat and what’s happening inside the boat. This is all routine for us at this point. For the outside stuff, for example, before starting each race, I’ll start off the questions: What do we see? What’s our opinion? What do we see on the water? How does it compare to the forecast? What did we learn in the last race? What side of the line and why? During the race, communication shifts to our speed and height relative to the other boats around us. In the big fleets, I’m not looking around, and a lot of it is how quickly you can find a free lane after the start. So, it’s so important to have the team looking around and providing real-time feedback on the wind, current, boat performance and tactical situation.

Inside-the-boat communications is about making sure we’re set up for the given conditions. Before the race, we ask about the rig, the backstay, the jib tracks, making sure we’re in the right gear off the line. The gear you set up in for the start may be a different gear than you’re in 10 minutes later, so it’s imperative you always start in the right gear.

During the course of the race, we are a quiet boat; just talking about how the boat feels and taking a lot of input. I’ve been on a lot of boats where it seems the only person who has a valid opinion is the tactician, but we have four good sailors on the boat, so it’s important to hear how everyone feels and what they think is important. I think we do that as well as anybody.

The next category is adjustments, and I think we’re at a new level this year. That’s making a difference. Especially in the challenging conditions of Miami, with the waves and the wind, it is so essential to be always adjusting. The J/70 has so many tools, but the tools are useless unless you use them. With adjustments, we think of it from front to back: jib halyard, jib track, the ratio between the primary (sheet) and the inhauler. The traveler, backstay, vang and cunningham—in that order. Whatever we do with the headsail drives how we set up the main and how I drive the boat. Even a windspeed change of 2 knots or a modest change in wave state will require one or several changes of these tools.

We keep getting better at this and knowing what each of us will do and knowing what those adjustments are. The key to that is we compile comprehensive notes after each practice day and every race day, and it all goes into a repository. That becomes our baseline, and it allows us to be at that point where we can sail by the numbers. For example, if we are high and slow, the reaction is, “OK, let’s do X, Y and Z, and if we’re low and fast, let’s do A, B and C,” but we already know what the playbook is. Any team that’s serious has to have this database of notes so things become intuitive.

We also have numbers all over our boat. Let’s say we’re sailing in a regatta using the J/9 jib. We know how it should be set up in terms of the jib track; then we start focusing on the ratio between the primary and inhaul sheets, so these go into the notes as numbers. For example: jib track at 6, primary at 3.5 and weather sheet at 8. During the race, we’re talking numbers, and if someone is feeling something, we might say, “Let’s go primary to 2. 5 and weather to whatever.” It’s knowing what the numbers are. A lot of teams just go into the boat and trim by eye or feel. We go to settings. It makes our life easier.

I imagine that makes things a lot easier for you to strictly focus on driving.

It’s been a huge change for me. I grew up as a singlehanded sailor, and in college sailing, the skipper does everything, and I don’t do that. I focus on driving, but I have the base of knowledge, and that’s why when everyone in the boat is talking about what’s going on and we’re problem-solving, I may chirp in with an observation. The goal is to get to the point where everything is happening naturally. For example, as we’re approaching a wave set, Conner is easing the jib halyard, and Thomas has already eased the backstay. We may adjust the jib halyard 20 times in a given windward leg. It’s very dynamic, and that’s not how we were sailing three years ago.

Do you play your own mainsheet?

I used to do it, but I have not for the last five years or so. It took a while to get used to, but you eventually realize you have two people to play three lines, and given how dynamic we are, I bet I am by far the most active person in the fleet when it comes to the traveler. It’s moving nonstop. I will drop the traveler an inch or two, and our level of heel does not change. That leads to more direct efficiency on the keel and rudder.

Take us through how you sail through puffs on the J/70.

Conner’s calling puffs; their strength and direction, and whether it’s a lifting or heading puff. The traveler is always uncleated and in my hand, and what we try to do is be dynamic with steering. Thomas is trimming in the backstay just as the puff is coming on with one hand, and his other hand is on the mainsheet, so he and I are playing all three at the same time. One of the effective things of a traveler burp is you can burp it out with the initial puff and almost within a second start trimming it back in; the heel-­angle change is imperceptible. If we do that right, we’re going to gain half a boatlength with every puff from boats that don’t.

How about the jib adjustments?

If we are coming into either a big puff or chop, the weather sheet comes off, which gives me a bigger groove. The halyard is being played with every up and down change in velocity or any wave-state change that’s going to affect our speed. Flat spots are just as important as puffs and waves; if we approach the flat spot with speed, we can go with a little extra trim on the main and banjo the weather sheet for about 15 seconds to be able to feather up and gain a bit of height in that one flat spot.

Confident breeze calling is important to this style of dynamic sailing.

Yes. One of my pet peeves is when people become talking heads, and 80 percent of what they’re saying I feel no difference in my tiller or face. In that sense, sometimes less is more because if you are saying something, it has to be important. Along that note, whenever I have a substitution for an event, I remind everyone that we will all make mistakes, so no barking. Just carry on and do our job.

Share some thoughts on starting in this class, especially with everyone using GPS starting devices these days.

We can continue to get ­better here. In general, what works for us is to set up around our spot early, but setting up early comes with its trade-offs. You have to have the skills to defend against port-tack poachers and really be able to defend your space—doing double tacks and basically doing what you can to push away boats on both sides so you leave yourself enough runway so that when it’s go-time, you can go faster than the boats around you. If you’re late to accelerate because you are too close to the line, boats around you that started two lengths before will own you. For me, the big thing is if we don’t have a lane off the start, I will happily take as many sterns as I have to in order to get out and get a lane. We have confidence in our speed, so at that point in time, say 30 seconds after the start, you’re still within five lengths of the leading boat, and that’s not so bad. So, we’ll give away a few lengths by ducking to get a lane, and sometimes finding that lane may take two or three tacks. But if you have a leg that is 1.5 miles, it’s worth it. Plus, in big fleets, there is that phenomenon where the wind is coming down the course and the entire wind mass rises above the wall of masts and sails. It’s good to get away from that wall.

Winging has become a ­powerful tactical tool in the J/70. Your thoughts?

It’s been around for a long time, but right now some sailmakers, like Doyle, have a kite that’s made to be a better winger. It’s critically important, but you have to do it at the right time. You have to be going 5 knots before you’re even thinking about doing it. Secondly, if you’re rounding near the front of your fleet, it’s dangerous to wing too early because the wind block from the cone can be deadly. You can make good gains by letting the cone thin out a bit, do a full jibe, go for a minute, and then pop the wing. At that point, you are one of the first to go over, and you are far enough out to get the clear air and then able to go straight to the mark. But you have to earn the opportunity; you have to fight for the spot to make it happen, then wait for a breeze and then pop it.

The post Winner’s Debrief: Brian Keane’s Savasana appeared first on Sailing World.

At the Helly Hansen Sailing World Regatta Series in St. Petersburg we mic’d up Andy Horton and Travis Odenbach on the J/70 for the practice race. Listen in to hear how the top sailors get around the racecourse with fleet management, tactics and strategy calls.

The post Listen and Learn with Andy Horton and Travis Odenbach appeared first on Sailing World.

Peter Duncan’s Relative Obscurity has prevailed over 60 other teams and challenging wind conditions to capture the 2021 J/70 World Championship title at California Yacht Club, today. In a five-day series that tested the skill and patience of top-notch competitors from 11 nations, Duncan – sailing with Willem van Waay, Morgan Trubovich and Victor Diaz de Leon – secured a top five position in the beginning of the regatta and never let go.

“I’m elated!” said Duncan as he returned to the dock, bustling with activity. “That was a tough day out there. We didn’t start very well but had a bit of a break with a header on the first run of the second race that let us get close to everybody and sail through some folks we need to sail through,” he explained. “We have a lot of fun onboard – joke and laugh and keep it light – and that worked in our favor when we had to grind through. Everybody knows what their job is, and these guys do them exceptionally well.”

The leaderboard changed with every rounding during Races Seven and Eight, as the top contenders scrapped for honors. “It was very cool that there were four boats who could have won this thing in the last race,” Duncan added. “To me that’s really fun, exciting sailing.”

Duncan is no stranger to the podium. Recently he won the J/70 North Americans in Annapolis and triumphed in the 2017 J/70 Worlds in Porto Cervo, Italy. “This competition was really great, and the Race Committee did a terrific job getting the races in with the breeze we had. I’m really pleased. Cal Yacht Club did an awesome job.”

At day’s end, the top tier was separated by just eight points with Bruce Golison taking second place. His team Midlife Crisis was primed with a solid win in the Pre-Worlds last month. One of only two teams to get bullets in the tightly matched Worlds this week (along with Magatron) Golison sailed with Steve Hunt, Erik Shampain and Jeff Reynolds.

Laura Grondin and the team of Dark Energy, just one point astern, took third. Grondin only recently began competing in the J/70. A competitive Melges 24 sailor, she switched to the J/70 when the boat’s popularity exploded. “If you really want that fleet racing experience, this is the boat,” she said. “I decided to go for it, and when Taylor Canfield came along, my husband Rick suggested we take this opportunity and just do as much as we can and see where we go.” Where it has taken her, is third place in the J/70 World Championships.

In contrast to her life as a business owner and CEO, Grondin noted, “On the racecourse, I am really just another member of the crew.” Unlike her corporate life, she laughed, “Here, I don’t have the final say. But these people are far more experienced than I am, so why wouldn’t I listen to them? And if I can do my job in a way that allows the rest of my team to do their jobs to the best of their ability, that’s a win for me. And that is the same in business and in sailing. It’s very exciting and rewarding.”

The Ducasse Sailing Team of Santiago, Chile, triumphed in the Corinthian division. “We are having a really nice time, and this is so good for us, because the level of competition is so good,” said Francisco Ducasse, who is sailing with his father and three brothers: Andres Ducasse Soruco, Ignacio Ducasse Soruco, Rodrigo Ducasse Soruco, and Andres Ducasse. Hoping for better wind – because they are sailing with a team of five instead of four – he said they were pleased with their result.

Ducasse noted the effort it took to bring the campaign from Chile, and their good fortune in chartering a sound boat. “We had really good training in the Pre-Worlds,” and added the team is in it for the long-haul. “The level is so good, we are practicing and adapting a lot with very good teams. We were hoping for a top ten finish, and then to do better the next Worlds. We are shortening the average.”

The J/70 World Championship regatta began Wednesday August 11 with enthusiasm: a characteristic that would continue throughout the week and result in multiple General Recalls and the hoisting of the U flag and Black flag. Breezes of 6 to 8 knots greeted the fleet, but by Thursday the wind vanished. The Race Committee attempted to pull off the desired two races, but deterred by the shifty zephyrs, abandoned racing for the day.

A slight improvement in velocity Friday allowed for one race – just skimming the Class’ lower limit for breeze. A championship regatta isn’t always about heavy weather, many competitors pointed out, saying it’s just as vital to conquer light and shifty conditions, as heavy air. And the masters of the fleet proved that over time.

Saturday’s forecast rang true, with a breeze that started at 6 knot and filled in to 14 knot by the end of the day. Principal Race Officer Mark Foster squeezed out three races, despite repeated General Recalls which threatened to trim the number of races. But organizers already had the requisite number under their belt to constitute a World Championship and allow for throw-outs.

Late Saturday, drenched and exhausted, the fleet returned to the yacht club for a ‘California Dreamin’ style buffet with music. The frontrunners had consolidated their positions with Duncan’s Relative Obscurity in the lead followed by Dark Energy, Savasana, Midlife Crisis and Catapult. The final day of the J/70 Worlds Championship Regatta would bring fair winds averaging 7 – 10 knots to Santa Monica Bay, with a number of shifts that kept racers and Race Committee on their toes.

Plans for the championship regatta had been on the books since 2018, according to Chair Marylyn Hoenemeyer, and slated for July 26 to Aug. 1, 2020. By early that year the entry list was brimming at 96: nearing the 100-boat limit, with half the fleet hailing from around the globe. Then the pandemic turned everything upside down, and the event was rescheduled.

“This has been a tremendous effort and success,” added Hoenemeyer. “The racers, Race Committee and entire organization have been so patient and tenacious, and I would like to thank everyone involved. This was a full club effort. I think we’re aware of the volunteers on the water, but less aware of the volunteers onshore, and the impact on the members. We’re thankful for the support of the Cal Yacht Club membership and our terrific staff. We’re no different than other organizations that are working short staffed these days … they’ve pulled together a really tremendous effort and we are proud of the experience we’ve provided these racers, both on the water and off. “

The last J/70 World Championship regatta had been held in Tor Bay, England, with GBR’s Paul Ward and Eat Sleep J Repeat besting that 77-boat fleet in a grueling 14-race series. Ward finished seventh in the 2021 event.

Click here for complete results of the 2021 J/70 World Championship

The post Hard-Earned J/70 Worlds Win for Duncan and Crew appeared first on Sailing World.

Ed Baird checks in from the 44Cup’s first event (in a long time) in Portorož, Slovenia, where the racing is about to get underway; Jonathan McKee downloads on the J/70 North American drift-fest and Gary Jobson tries to explain the New York YC’s surprise Challenge protocol issued last week and Peter Isler’s getting ready for a summer packed from Classics in the East to Transpac in the West.

The post Around the Sailing World, Episode 41 appeared first on Sailing World.

Go for a tear on a MOD70 with unseen onboard footage and check your cloud knowledge with a teaser of Marine Weather University in this week’s episode of Around the Sailing World. Plus, Tony Rey checks in with some Miami J/70 updates and Gary Jobson talks priorities ahead of upcoming World Sailing meetings. There’s movement on the water, says panelist Steve Hunt, as sailing comes back to life.

The post Around the Sailing World, Episode 9 appeared first on Sailing World.