The Old Men and the Sea
Originally published in the Antigua Classic Yacht Regatta program book
“When does a man quit the sea?” asked E.B. White in his essay “The Sea and the Wind that Blows.” For the answer, consider the captain and crew of Ruffian, a 36-foot Sparkman & Stephens celebrating her 30th birthday this year. Owner and Captain Marty Halpern, who has logged thousands of solo offshore miles, could sail her blindfolded; for racing, however, he engages a crew, hale and hearty, average age: 70-something.
These gentlemen of a certain classic age, like “70-something” Robin Pinfold, dread the skipper’s unorthodox command:
Lee rail, everybody!
“Words to strike fear into the heart of any brave Caribbean sailor and chill his rum-infused veins,” says Pinfold, explaining the captain’s theory of heel angle, weight distribution, and speed.
“Quite right, too, but when you are in your 70s and you have to crouch in the soggy scuppers while 100+ feet of a J-Class yacht goes by, creating a wave that rolls down the deck of Ruffian and wets you up to your chest, it is less than the fun you are supposed to experience sailing in the sunny Caribbean.”
Captain Halpern has another favorite quote, not an order but an observation:
Some people will never spend a day like this in their lifetimes.
“That’s what I always say to my crews,” says the 76-year-old, who has raced in Antigua Classics “among all that beautiful furniture” every year for over a decade. “It remains the best of my lifetime choices.”
Halpern lauds his crew, including the loyal Harry Berfelz with the “80-year-old bottom, deeply scored by the new non-skid which had been applied to keep all the septuagenarians on board”; and, at age 69, two relative youngsters: “emergency repair guy” Al Sousa, who can fix any problem while underway, and “competitive main sheet trimmer” Louis Schwartz.
“I am part of a crew that has at all times five present and/or former boat owner captains. Talk about opinions and strategy. Wow!” says Schwartz. “Ruffian, she is beautiful, a real pleasure for the crew and exciting to sail and race, just so long as we have wind.”
The “hard core of five” old salts is augmented by a roster of “some kids in their 50s” and the occasional “young maiden.” Halpern marvels at Pinfold’s knack for filling the cockpit with women bearing champagne glasses, “as if by magic,” simply by popping a cork.
“That was a revelation to me!” he laughs. “I never saw women move so fast in my life.”
Named for the famous thoroughbred who refused to stop running even after being fatally injured in a race, Ruffian had had her share of seconds and thirds and special awards, but never a first prize—until 2013.
“As the expression goes, everyone once in a while gets lucky,” says the modest captain. “The winds came up, the rest of the fleet quit, and when the committee boat gave us the gun, we thought it was for someone else!”
It wasn’t, though, and to prove their point, they won again in 2014. Quit the sea now? Not likely.
“Until death us do part,” says Pinfold, with this directive to the younger competitors out there: “So if you’re racing and see a few bedraggled-looking, extremely soggy, elderly fellows crouching in the lee scuppers of a dark blue boat, spare them a thought, and give them a wave. Because they are doing it so they can WIN!!”