1974 America's Cup Challenge: Bond Bombs in Newport

NEWPORT, R.I.--It was the second major disappointment for this seaside resort in just a year. Once again Newport was witness to a finale that did not come close to living up to its advance billing. The challenge for the prestigious America's Cup by the highly-touted syndicate of controversial Australian Alan Bond proved to be about as well-produced as the Newport-filmed "Great Gatsby" which flopped a month before it.

It was to be a showdown worthy of "High Noon," with Bond's 12-meter yacht Southern Cross rated as the best shot in the history of the event to wrest the awkward Silver trophy from its secure position in the headquarters of the New York Yacht Club in Manhattan. Twenty-one other challengers had tried before to take the cup home, but none had succeeded. THIS, the pundits predicted, was to be the year that the United States could lose, and the Cross would be the boat to do it.

Ballyhoos

Instead, the stars of the Southern Cross faded faster than the much ballyhooed, but extremely feeble comet Kohoutek. The American challenger Courageous swept the best of seven series, 4-0, on the waters of Rhode Island Sound. What was to be a monumental struggle with the crew from down under, turned out to be a breeze for the sleek, white-hulled American defender.

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Race Three was to be the start of the big comeback for Southern Cross. The Australian crew had been defeated in the first two contests by margins of 4:54 and 1:11, and their backs were against the proverbial wall. But the first two races had been sailed in fog and light winds. This was not the Southern Cross's weather, the boat's admirers contended. Wait until the breeze freshens, they claimed, and she'll sail up to her much-publicized potential.

Wait she did, as Race Three was cancelled twice, first due to lack of visibility before the start and later because of lack of wind. The race committee called the second effort after the two boats had spent all afternoon drifting about the Sound with no hope of finishing before the designated time limit.

But following a Sunday lay day, the fog finally exited and the wind picked up a little. It was still not the steady 20-30 knot breeze the Cross was used to off the coast of Australia, but the 12-14 knots had to do. No one had really given up on the gold-hulled challenger, and hopes were high that she would finally put it all together.

Cross On Water

The Cross was sailing by the Americas Cup bouy long before Courageous was towed out by its tender two hours before the 12:10 start of the race. The Cross was followed about by her tender and watched with curiosity by the then-small spectator fleet that had begun to gather near the starting line. She even received a rousing round of applause from the 80-or-so paying spectators as she tacked next to the Coast Guard Cutter Vigilant, which patrolled the boundary of the race course.

As the starting time drew near, the fleet began to swell. The sails filled the horizen like an invading armada preparing a disorganized attack on the enemy. The two contestants paced back and forth by the committee boat waiting for the Olympic course to be posted, as the fleet of Coast Guard cutters and patrol boats attempted to beat back the invading armada.

The spectating fleet in itself was a sight, as the yachts jockied for front line position, often narrowly avoiding collisions in an attempt to see the thoroughbreds of sailboat racing up close. The passenger ferries came out packed to the railings with ogling tourists pushing and shoving to get a view. The large craft listed to the side facing the action as the mob jeered a patrol boat engaged in battle with the portly ferry, trying to herd it back behind the lines.

Only the so-called privileged boats, designated by yellow-and-orange flags with large black numbers in the center, are allowed to penetrate the Coast Guard defense. These yachts carried members of the various syndicates which had backed not only the two twelves racing that day, but also such vanquished boats as Baron Bic's French challenger, eliminated by the Cross, and the various American hopefuls--all beaten out by the Courageous for the chance to defend the Grand Auld Mug, as it is sometimes unfortunately known.

The Press boat, Hel Cat, a large catamaran that is otherwise used for charter fishing groups out of Long Island, joined the single file line of impressive power yachts as it weaved past the Vigilant and headed toward its special spectating area near the committee boat. The rest of the fleet had to stay back and be content to listen to the radio reports of Jerry Nevin and Norry Hoyt from the Hel Cat broadcast over Newport station WADK.

"And the bikinis are rampant out here today..." The voice of color man Hoyt boomed from the transistor radios aboard the Vigilant as the people began moving to the port rail to watch the combatants circle the starting line awaiting the gun, which would signal ten minutes to the start of crucial race number three.

The two helmsmen, Jim Hardy of the Southern Cross and Dennis Conner, who handled strictly the starts on Courageous--relinquishing the command to sailmaker Ted Hood the rest of the way--attempted a seemingly fruitless game of staying on the other's tail in order to force the opponent up over the line early.

But as the starting gun sounded, both boats were over early and the Cross took longer to return and restart. The challenger could never catch up and Courageous just kept increasing the lead on the hapless Australians. After the novelty of watching the graceful boats wore off, the race became rather boring. The voice of Hoyt began to lose some of its enthusiasm. "...And the Southern Cross is putting up the same old white bag..." he reported blandly as the Aussies set their white spinmaker after rounding the weather mark well behind the defender.

The final margin was 5:27, and everyone knew that the Cross was destined for the already lengthy list of unsuccessful challengers.

Newport Shipyard was quiet around 4 p.m. the afternoon of Race Four. Two miles offshore, however, Courageous had just successfully defended the America's Cup by the whopping margin of 7:19 in the final battle of the series. The radios on shore were the only clue to the jubilation on the water, as Hoyt bubbled over about the victorious American crew popping champagne on the deck as they waited for the Southern Cross to finish.

Slowly people began filtering in to the docks where the two boats would eventually tie up, hoping for a close glimpse of the post-series celebration. Some were members of the successful syndicate, or small-time contributors to the effort who wanted to get in on the celebrating they knew would come as soon as the Courageous was towed in to the shipyard.

"Well, you took it in four straight," one interested onlooker exclaimed to a syndicate contributer who was wearing the green pants and green pin, with the winning yacht's number 26 emblazoned in gold.

"Yeah," he replied somewhat calmly, "and we took it and shoved it right up Alan Bond's ass where it belongs."

The crowd grew, and the wait on the dock seemed endless. But after an hour and a half, the parade of spectators and Coast Guard craft shooting 50-foot geysers of water into the air, came into sight at the mouth of the harbor. Every horn and cannon in the harbor went off in a deafening display of jubilation as the Courageous was towed to its berth with the whole crew guzzling champagne on the decks--except one hand hanging precariously from the spreaders by his knees.

Shoving and Singing

The singing and the shoving of people into the water went on for several hours by dockside but the loudspeakers stopped after "Yankee Doodle Dandy" and then "Waltzing Matilda." Even the vanquished crew of the Cross joined the hysteria. Alan Bond, who sank nearly $9 million into the fruitless campaign, put on a show for the crowd, jumping into the water nearly on top of his boat's designer Bob Miller.

But for all the celebration, it was a dull series, a letdown after a close elimination series between American hopeful Intrepid and the eventual winner, number 26. It was a disappointment after the pre-race buildup that the Southern Cross was given.

Like Redford's "Gatsby," Bond too bombed in Newport this summer.