At the helm with an Olympic hopeful

Whoever invented four o’clock in the morning is a chump.
That’s what I’m thinking as the stupid, gnat-like shrill of my mobile phone alarm goes and I haul myself out of bed.
I’m in Cowes to compete in the JP Morgan Asset Management Round the Island Race on a boat skippered by Olympic Laser sailor Paul Goodison.
Paul, who flew in from training in China the day before, came an agonising fourth in Athens and nearly quit the sport as a result, but is back and highly fancied to land gold in Beijing.
And I’ve blagged a spot in his crew to study an Olympian in action just six weeks before he begins the final phase in his quest to accomplish a lifelong dream.
The annual 55-mile race around the Isle of Wight has attracted a record 1,875 boats and 13,000 sailors, including Formula One star Lewis Hamilton sailing with double Olympic gold medallist Ben Ainslie.
The rest of our 17-strong crew are Volvo keelboat sailing squad members, along with assorted other media types and Sheffield United manager Kevin Blackwell (see pic below). Paul is a Sheffield native and a massive Blades fan.
We slip the dock at 0500 and join the throng of boats milling about in the Solent. Hoisting our sails we glide past the circling Open 60 Hugo Boss, with Ainslie at the helm. We scan the decks for Hamilton but then someone spots him on a launch behind it, waiting to transfer. “He’s taking a photo of us, what a legend,” laughs one of our crew.
It turns out Hugo Boss collides with another boat – Atomic – in the pre-start manoeuvring, breaking its mast and snapping their own bowsprit. “That’s Lewis Hamilton for you,” is the standard gag doing the rounds afterwards in reference to his recent shunts on the track.
The starting gun fires at 0600 – the early hour is to make use of the tide – and we hare off up the Solent towards the Needles under leaden skies.

Paul immediately displays his credentials, keeping a cool head in the initial melee and bellowing to our competitors to give way if we have priority.
Kevin and I volunteer for the first grinding shift, which means for large chunks of the beat up to the Needles we have our heads down pumping the big coffee-grinder winches that pull in the sails.
There’s lots of nautical chat zipping about between the crew, such as “If you want to go for the two, I’m in the port groove” and talk of “snatchblocks” (no, me neither).
We round the Needles just after 0730 and hoist the spinnaker to sail downwind around the back of the island. The increased power in the sails gives Paul a real workout on the wheel as the boat is knocked onto its side.
On one of several such “broaches” Kevin and I are pinned in an embrace against the wire guard rail.
Kevin, just back from a scouting trip to Brazil, has never sailed before but seems to be enjoying it nonetheless.
“It’s a fantastic opportunity, to be fair,” he says. I love the “To be fair” bit. Classic footballing patois in among the sailing spiel.
We broach again, this time ripping the spinnaker, and Paul yanks the wheel left and right to get the rudder to grip in the water. He looks like a man in control but he does admit later “I was hanging on a bit there, just hoping we’d come up”.
During a lull Paul reveals he has never sailed a TP52 before but says the principles are the same as for his one-man Laser dinghy.
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“The bigger the boat, the less important the driver is and the more important a good crew is,” he says.
Later, we share the rear toilet (over the stern), and I find myself in the privileged position of having taken a pee with an Olympian and cuddled a top football manager, all before nine o’clock.
When water is passed around, Kevin says he is surprised that the crew share bottles. He tells his players never to put a bottle to their lips, just to spray in the water to prevent germs from being passed. Paul admits he’s probably right but goes on to reveal that in Qingdao, the Olympic sailing venue, they use alcohol-based gels to wash their hands before eating. “In China it’s really easy to get ill so we have to be really anal about it,” he says.
For the Games they will have their own chef but in the training camps they’ve cooked for themselves or run the gauntlet of the local eateries.
“We’ve got to be super-careful what we eat out there. There’s a couple of restaurants we feel pretty safe with but you basically choose from a picture and roll the dice,” he says.
We reach St Catherine’s Point off the southern tip of the island at 0915. The sun comes out and it’s glorious. We pick up one particularly large swell and all cheer as the speedo on the mast ticks over 22 knots. “We’re smoking,” cries Paul.

After rounding the Bembridge Ledge buoy, snacks are passed around. “Not for me thanks,” says Paul. Aha, I think, he’s dieting, trying to shift weight for the light wind conditions in Qingdao. Great control from the Olympian there.
But no. He tells me later, over a pint in fact, that he’s already down to his fighting weight of 74kgs and is back to normal eating, though he has to weigh himself naked every morning to monitor it. At the Games, it gets serious again with the team nutritionalist weighing out specific amounts of porridge for each sailor every morning.
We tack back up the Solent and finish at 1111 BST, 20th over the line and fifth in our class.
“I didn’t appreciate the physicality of sailing before,” says Kevin. “The team work is massively impressive.”
In true sailing tradition we hit the bar. Paul tells me about the recent conditions in Qingdao, which have seen fog so thick that they’ve been unable to see the marks on the race course, even by GPS, and of the green fields of algae which are swamping the sea and stopping boats in their tracks.
“Every day 300-400 local boats go out to try to clear the stuff up,” he says.
I ask Paul whether the imminence of the Games and the pinnacle of four years’ effort has sunk in yet.
“It’s always at the back of my mind but the only time I really think about it is for motivation,” he says. “When I get out of bed feeling knackered and the last thing I want to do is get on my bike, I think of the Games and it’s easy. I have to tell myself ‘you’re not doing it for fun, you’re doing it because you need to, so get on your bike and stop being a lazy so-and-so’.
“The thing I try to think is, ‘what am I going to do today to help get what I want which is a gold medal?’”
With that, we do cheers, lean back and savour the thought.
Now, if I can just push on through until 0400…















