Out at sea, out of mind - the sailor's lament

Down on Weymouth sea front, the town was humming. Holidaymakers in their policemen helmets, foam cowboy hats and daft baseball caps strolled along the prom, eating fish and chips and then risking it all on the waltzer. Others sat doggedly on the beach despite a strong wind and a threatening sky. After all, they had the Bobby Davro Show to look forward to that evening. Bars and souvenir shops and amusement arcades vied for their attention and their trade. So many temptations, so little time. And out at sea, some of the world's best sailors competed for a place in Britain's Olympic team, totally ignored by the thousands who packed the Dorset town this week.

I asked five people at random if they knew something special was taking place out to sea. Three didn't and displayed little interest when they did; one thought it was something to do with the lifeboat and the fifth, with admirable ignorance of European politics and geography, guessed that the Navy was getting ready to attack Bosnia.

Perhaps I was just unlucky. If we believe the Royal Yachting Association figures, between 2.5 million and 3 million people now sail. It runs 140,000 courses a year so the odds should have been pretty good on finding someone who knew who would recognise names like John Merricks, Ian Walker, Chris Law and Shirley Robertson. But the sport is still hopeslessly at sea when it comes to spectators.

This weekend, more than 40 world and Olympic sailing champions will race along a 130-yard stretch of canal in the middle of Amsterdam. The event, organised by Battersea, south London entepreneur Hend van der Aat, looks likely to attract huge crowds. But down at Weymouth this week, there were precious few takers for the RYAs boat trips to watch our Olympic trials.

You can't really blame them. Even those who don't ascribe to the "you've seen one yacht, you've seen them all" school of spectator enthusiasm find it hard to follow a race at sea. When boats round the course buoys, you can see who's doing well. But in between, the yachts belie that old saw about the shortest distance between two points being a straight line, and scatter like a herd of wildebeest pursued by lions.

Not that the Olympic hopefuls worry too much about entertaining holidaymakers who wouldn't know a spinnaker from an ice-cream cornet. They're all too concerned about the wind, which is supposed to emulate the winds expected in Savannah, Georgia next year. Weymouth is renowned for light to moderate zephyrs. But instead, it's been blowing a hooley. The boats go out, scud around for a while, and return to base. The same happens in the afternoon. A sport that depends on breezes is getting, well, the wrong sort of wind.

Sailors aren't very good at waiting, and this is a serious business. Only the top boat in each of the 10 disciplines will get to Georgia, but there are other things at stake - such as money. At sub-Olympian level, merely getting to competitions, eating and a bed for the night mean that everyone is grateful for even a pounds 500 RYA base-level grant. Top sailors can get RYA help up to pounds 8,000, while sponsors like Brut, which is backing this event, award bursaries that mean the difference between a tent or a proper bed.

Still, every little helps and it has certainly helped to keep Britain's position among the world's top sailing nations. We have won the second most Olympic medals, behind only America. In every class at these trials, there are European champions, former Olympic sailors, world youth champions. With 12 races, luck will only have a walk-on part. Whoever gets those coveted places will (unlike many other sports where British competitors go along for "the experience") stand a very good chance of a medal in Savannah, where the Olympics will be the only show in town. Ah, those holidaymakers don't know what they're missing.