I used to live in old Blighty. Where is that you ask? Never heard of it, but I am guessing that some, if not most people reading this have been there, at least to Heathrow as a stopover on your way to somewhere else. Yup you guessed it. Old Blighty is a name that the British troops stationed in India during WW2 came up with when they butchered a Hindu word and long story short, it became an affectionate way to refer to home back in England.
When I lived there this would be my favorite week of the year. It was the week that boats of all shapes and sizes, and sailors of all shapes and sizes converged in Cowes on the Isle of Wight on England’s south coast and fought battles that often included gale force winds, foggy days, ripping tides, sometimes sunshine and always big fleets. In other words, perfect sailing conditions if you are a Brit.
Cowes week has seen a dip in the last few years but this is the 200th anniversary of the gathering that was originally named Royal Yacht Club Regatta. It’s not the oldest regatta in the world but it comes pretty close. This year’s event has attracted over 630 boats and more than 5,000 crew. Up to 40 races are run each day across 27 different classes; in other words it’s a mammoth regatta. Thanks to climate change England is now blessed with hot, cloudless summer days which would otherwise have made for perfect sailing, except for one small detail; tides.
The races are held in the Solent, that narrow strip of land between the Isle of Wight and the British mainland where water flowing freely up and down the English Channel is suddenly forced into the narrow gap and it accentuates the already swift flowing tides. That plus throw in some shallow banks, a couple of which are visible at low tide, and you have a formula certain to cause some commotion.
Here is an example to illustrate this. No one ever accused the British of being eccentric, but once a year The Bramble Bank Cricket Match is played, the Bramble Bank being a shallow spot mid-Solent. By the way if you ever stop by the Bramble Bank look out for some blue bottom paint on one of the rocks. That was left by me and my crew back in 1980. The Bramble Bank is only exposed for an hour but that’s enough time for pitchers of Pimms to be imbibed and if you are in luck, some sausage rolls and scones with Devon clotted cream devoured.
Cowes Week is as much about the parties on land as it is about the competition on the water. Let me just say that there are plenty of parties and they are all well attended. One of the best tickets in town is an invite to the Royal Yacht Squadron. The Squadron was founded in 1815, which by the way is five years before my country South Africa was settled. It’s where Royalty hang out now that their yacht Britannia has been decommissioned. You might just see one of William and Kate’s kids pop around a corner. There was a time when Prince Harry might have made an appearance; beer in hand.
Surprisingly, I have been invited to the Royal Yacht Squadron on a few occasions. The only problem is that a blazer is required. People in Great Britain are resourceful and many years ago some enterprising lady opened a thrift shop just a few hundred yards from the club. The Hatter and Hare is still there and has a variety of blazers that can be purchased on the way to the Royal Yacht Squadron and sold back to the thrift shop the next day. A very practical solution if you ask me.
The Admirals Cup had always been a big part of Cowes Week but there was a two decade lapse where the racing didn’t happen. Teams from all over the world sent their best boats and the top sailors of the time, including former British Prime Minister Sir Edward Heath, to pit it out against each other. It returned as part of Cowes Week in 2025 and the good news is that it will be back next year.
Every other year the legendary Fastnet Race still takes place. In 1979 there was a disaster where 19 people died. It was a collection of errors that led to one of sailing’s biggest tragedies. Many of the Mom and Pop crews that regularly showed up for Cowes Week decided to make the race around Fastnet Rock off the south coast of Ireland part of their holiday. They were not suited for the race and when a severe low pressure passed over in the night, calamity ensued.
This year I am baking scones and have already made the clotted cream. I bought the strawberry jam. I will do my Cowes Week from the comfort of my couch, a mocktail Pimms in hand (yes I had my fair share of alcohol over the past five decades and now have to settle for a Shirley Temple knockoff, but such is life). I will pretend that I am tucking into a steak and kidney pie at the Royal Yacht Squadron while my wife rubs my feet. (The first scenario more likely than the second).
I was shipwrecked doing the ‘79 Fastnet Race and ended up like an almost drowned rat on the shores of Ireland where I discovered the Nectar of the gods; Guinness so I think that I have earned some couch time. (Damn I could use a cold beer right about now…:) Actually they make a non-alcoholic Guinness and it’s quite good. One more small point to bring up. While I was sipping some drinks at the Royal Cork Yacht Club, my local newspaper in South Africa led with the headline; Local Boy Missing and Presumed Dead, under which was a photo of me lifted from my High School year book. It took three weeks for the race committee to ascertain that I was alive. Three long weeks for my family. I never thought to call home. – Brian Hancock.
