Risking It All

(10 of 10)

They will see that bear, however, until they are old men. And if adventuring needs a justification—Peter Bird is probably right that it does not—this may be it. Candidates for bear-watching escapades who hesitate because they are middle-aged might consider the case of Phil Weld, a former newspaper publisher who will be 70 next year. He had led a fairly active life—he served during World War II behind Japanese lines in Burma with Merrill's Marauders—but until 1970 he had done no deepwater sailboat racing. He had read Sir Francis Chichester's books, however, about transatlantic sailing, and began to learn. By 1976 he had built a big trimaran called Gulf Streamer, and was heading for England in the boat to take part in the Ostar singlehanded transatlantic race. A huge wave turned Gulf Streamer turtle, and Weld and a friend were trapped in the upside-down hull. It took them three hours to cut their way out, and they rode the hulk for five days before being rescued by a Soviet freighter. In 1978 Weld was back to run the Ostar in another trimaran, this one wryly named Rogue Wave. He did not finish in the money, but he finished. Weld finally won the Ostar in 1980 and set a record for the race in a third trimaran, called Moxie.

Last week Weld, once again sailing Rogue Wave, ghosted home into port in light air. He had just won a race off Maine's Monhegan Island, but his mast had come loose during a blow off Cape Elizabeth, Me., and he had needed the help of two powerful young crewmen to get it tethered again. The experience left Weld, who had intended to race in the next Ostar, convinced that he no longer had the raw strength necessary for it. He said, without bitterness, that he would write a letter of withdrawal to the race committee.

His new challenge, Weld added cheerfully, was learning how to be 70. He has plenty of projects. He is interested in wind power: "This is not for the beard-and-sandals set; it's hard-nosed utility stuff." He is involved in a project to design small, cheap trimarans for Third World fishermen. And, yes, he will still do some ocean racing, with friends as crew. In the meantime, this tall, well-weathered sailor had some observations about voyaging:

> It nourishes the explorer instinct. It provides the sense of adventure that animates youthful souls.

> Voyaging hardens the physique. New sleep patterns, enforced low alcohol in take and unsullied air clean the senses. One loses weight. It is a health cure.

> Solo voyaging sharpens perceptions. The lone sailor must develop animal cunning to avoid hurt. Forethought can prevent the cuff on the ear from the flailing genoa sheet.

> Voyaging requires learning new skills: pilotage, navigation, meteorology, the use of tools. Such schooling stimulates the brain.

> Alone at dawn, one has time and quiet to ponder the verities. One achieves a sense of the earth's rotundity, and acquires some hints of The Scheme.

What else does one learn? Ah, said Weld, one learns that trimarans turn over. One learns to stash cutting tools in the bilge. And smiling, he went off after this latest of many voyages to his seaside home in Gloucester, and Anne, his wife.

— By John Skow

Reported by Steven Holmes/Los Angels, Joyce Leviton/Atlanta and Peter Stoler/New York, with other bureaus