By SUZANNE McFADDEN
As soon as the shimmering mainsail slithers up the mast of the black boat, her skipper disappears into Russell-world.
Nothing, it seems, can distract Russell Coutts from his trance.
"There's so much noise on the boat, it's insane. But he can still stay totally locked in," says Team New Zealand grinder Craig Monk says of the Black Magic helmsman.
"The whole crew know when he goes into Russell-world. And we're all quite happy when he's there."
Monk sails with his back to the boss, but doesn't even have to turn around to know when Coutts is at the wheel.
"You notice straight away that the boat's being sailed differently. He just gets the best out of it," he says.
"But we can't let him do anything else on the boat - he's hopeless at anything else."
Coutts is virtually oblivious to his transfixed state. "My wife chastises me over it," he laughs. "It's a common thing - people say I don't hear them. I'm not deaf, I'm just thinking about something else.
"I like to do a lot of thinking before the race. It's not a matter of being focussed - I'm preparing and visualising."
It obviously works. Coutts is arguably the world's best skipper. He has an Olympic gold medal - he had New Zealand's most famous backside in 1984 when he won the Finn class suffering the pain and indignity of boils. He has been crowned world matchracing champion three times - he has an elaborate Faberge egg among his many trophies.
But the grandest trophy of all on his resume is the America's Cup. Almost five years after trying to drink a jeroboam of champagne from the neck of the Auld Mug, Coutts says he is a changed man.
"We're all a bit older [note the grey sprinkled through Coutts' mop of hair] and a bit wiser," he says.
"We've learned things through the course of the last four years that we now do differently.
"I'm a little more tolerant these days than I was in '95. I'm a lot more aware of some of the individual goals of the guys."
Coutts' sense of humour hasn't changed. He's a bit of a lad, especially when he teams up with his partner in crime, tactician Brad Butterworth.
The crew say its great for morale, but veteran grinder Andrew Taylor briefly disagreed when the pair stole his new motorbike and hid it on the base.
"It's a long programme," says Coutts, "we try not to take ourselves too seriously."
But defending the America's Cup is an incredibly serious business, and Coutts would be the first to admit that it is all-consuming.
"It does take over your life, but what else would you rather be doing right now? This is a great time of our lives."
Coutts is a bit of a gambling man, so would he put money - figuratively - on Team New Zealand to hold onto the cup?
"I wouldn't describe ourselves as being overconfident. We've got a very good chance - but there's no guarantee that we have made the right decisions [with the new boats]. That's part of the fun and challenge of it," he said.
"You've got to wonder why people come in to this at quite an excessive risk. There's only one winner and they're big stakes. Perhaps that's one of the attractions.
"I like to have a bit of a gamble now and again. Just ask Brad Butterworth in the golf course. I guess this is an extreme example of it."
But you'd have to say Coutts was confident. After all, he's already thinking ahead to the next defence in Auckland - the year will probably be 2004 (the challenger series starting in 2003).
Coutts, Butterworth and design genius Tom Schnackenberg have already been handed the reigns to run the next defence on behalf of Team New Zealand.
Coutts says he will still sail on the boat, and, surprisingly, he reckons he's looking forward to chasing the money for the next campaign.
Maybe he should have a word with challenger skippers like Paul Cayard and John Kolius, who describe the fundraising game as worse than hell.
But Coutts wants the challenge, even though he could be faced with having to find a new family of sponsors to buoy the next defence.
If New Zealand don't keep the cup this time, there probably won't be another Kiwi challenge for years to come. Coutts is not sure he would keep playing the America's Cup game if it meant having to start all over again.
"I'll only do this while I'm enjoying it. Life is not a training run. That's the way I view it - you should only be doing things while you're having fun."
Step into Russell's world
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