Red sea parts for sailing celebrities

By CATHERINE MASTERS

On board the water taxi, bobbing in among the scores of other small spectator craft, the marine radio crackles out: "Hi, this is our last communication before the noise drowns us out ..."

He's not wrong. A few seconds later cannon boom and the mumble from the crowds lining the wharves becomes a roar.

Who needs champagne - the boys in the Steinlager boat passing by soak one another with magnums of the Kiwi beer.

And there, just coming into view above the solid mass of flag-waving, red-socked bodies, is the top of a mast. It belongs to Team New Zealand and the Viaduct is about to go off.

The noise when Prada cruised by was deafening enough. When it's Team New Zealand's turn, the noise on the water resounds with the honking of horns - it's New Year's Eve all over again but louder.

Before the dramatic entrance of the hero boats it is like watching a watery celebrity hall of fame.

Superyacht after superyacht cruises by, returning from their champagne-laden vantage points, almost close enough to touch.

In among them dinghies, battered old fishing boats and the odd canoeist jostle for strategic gawping positions.

Someone spots Rachel Hunter perched on the bow of a boat, waving a black flag.

"There's Dennis, yahooo," yells a co-passenger, and Dennis Conner comes into vision grinning and waving from the top window of the North Star. "It's like the Santa parade, waiting for Santa to arrive," says another passenger.

When Prada finally arrive the crew wave at us but the look on the face of a slightly hunched Patrizio Bertelli says it all. He is gutted.

And Team New Zealand. Sir Peter Blake is on board ("he's done so well," murmurs a passenger) but to be honest the biggest ear-to-ear grin belongs to Peter Montgomery, the excitable TV and radio voice of the America's Cup who is also on board.

On the way back in we pass the Prada base with white-clothed chefs bustling about. At least the boys are set to get a good feed.

And, capping it all off, just before we disembark, a slightly awed-looking Dean Barker completes an unexpected lap of honour showing off the America's Cup to the crowds of people around the harder-to-reach bits of the Viaduct Harbour.

On board our boat is Mike Ridgway of Albany, one of the investors in the water taxis, which have proven to be worth their weight in gold.

For him a 5-4 score would have been the better money-maker, but hey, he looks happy with the outcome.

Every vantage point is crammed with happy faces, some more bizarre than others.

The hydraulic lift takes people up the mast of the Hypericum, the superyacht of Jim Clark, the Netscape billionaire; others are more down-market, hanging precariously over the water from a crane.