Magnificent feats of human engineering have, for the majority of history, been accompanied by some ferocious level of noise. A cacophonous engine revving around a cyclical racetrack; jet fuel sublimating into clean dawn air; thunderous foghorns reverberating through an opaque winter storm. The sounds of human triumph rattle the eardrums and squeeze the throat. 

Thousands of perfect technological and meteorological occurrences happen on a scale of milliseconds in SailGP, a nautical racing sport that debuted in 2018. Here, teams of six Olympic-level athletes maneuver carbon fibre catamarans around a series of buoys within eye distance of the shore. Every moment in SailGP proves the success of millennia worth of technology—no king or futurist could dream of producing athletes this nimble; vessels this sleek; speeds this shocking. An F50 catamaran glides past a spectator at 60 miles an hour, hovering above the water on thin fins. All that can be heard is a hollow, melodic whistle.

There are around 12 Grand Prix races in a SailGP season, occurring at harbors across the world. This year, Los Angeles returned to the ranks of cities among the likes of Saint-Tropez, Rio de Janeiro, and Geneva, seeing 12 teams of national mariners of any gender compete for points (based on finishing position and performance in the course), tallied throughout the season and culminating in the final Rolex SailGP championship in Abu Dhabi this November. See here, SailGP athletes Giles Scott, Martine Grael, and Taylor Canfield, drivers of the Canadian, Brazilian, and American teams, who receive real-time guidance through a headset and a screen attached to the bottom of the sail, where a coach imparts instructions from headquarters on shore, aided by state-of-the-art computer predicting wind patterns and tide changes.

“The decision-making happens in seconds,” Martine Grael, Brazilian Gold medalist in the 2016 and 2020 Olympics for the 49er FX Class and driver for the Mubadala Brazil team, says, underscoring the level of athleticism requisite of SailGP athletes. “It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before in sailing,” she admits. Each athlete experiences multiple g-forces on the body through the minutes-long heat, a physical endeavor only fit for athletes of the highest caliber. “Every race is highly tactical and physically demanding. The data-driven approach, with real-time analytics and cloud-based performance tracking, makes it unlike any other sailing competition. It’s not just about skill on the water; it’s about strategy, precision, and innovation.” Grael finished 11^th in the Los Angeles heats, two behind the American team, spearheaded by Taylor Canfield.

Canfield, a jovial athlete from the US Virgin Islands and winner of the 2020 Bermuda Gold Cup and Open Match Racing World Championship, came in ninth: “I probably could speak for everyone competing in the league in saying everyone here hates losing,” he says. “The boats are so complex and the fleet is so competitive that the smallest of mistakes can cost your team’s performance in each race.” One of the interesting parts of SailGP, though, is the scoring system—a low placement in a single Grand Prix location doesn’t set back the team for the rest of the season: Canfield’s team finished first in the season opener, and despite being placed nearly last in the rankings, there is still time for a comeback.

“I try to have an in-the-moment attitude,” Canfield shares. “We need to continue to grow as a team and execute our jobs to get to the top and that is what our team is focusing on.” Grael seconds the sentiment: “[This sport] teaches you resilience—sometimes, setbacks provide the most valuable lessons, and consistency is what really counts over the course of the season.”

Watch now, as we reap the benefits of centuries of human adventure and technological success—these victories look like alien vessels hovering elegantly above the water; they look like athletes leaping, turning and flipping million-dollar catamarans. These victories are neat, and violent, and clean, and quiet. SailGP, arguably more than any other high-octane racing sports like F-1, the Kentucky Derby, and Indy 500, approaches the stark humanness of eons past by making the sport so concise that the equipment is nearly irrelevant to the viewer. After it all—the training, the g-force, the computers that instruct the athletes, what remains for the spectator are men and women at the whims of wind, atop the water, and the heart halting in the chest.

Photographed by Jonathan Hedrick

Written by Annie Bush

Production Assistant: Mallory Bowman