Book recommendation: “Silent Mayday” by Louie Hubbard – the story behind the Transatlantic Windsurf Race

“You could say this ocean and I have a love-hate relationship. Over the years, I’ve set out more often than I’ve actually reached the other side.” This sentence in the prologue to *Silent Mayday* captures the book’s theme, essence and narrative arc almost perfectly; it stays with the reader throughout the entire book. In this autobiographical work of over 400 pages, author Louie Hubbard has chronicled the trauma he experienced on the Atlantic. Why is this interesting from a windsurfing history perspective? Because this love-hate relationship culminated in the legendary 1998 Transatlantic Windsurf Race, the history and background of which take centre stage.

Louie Hubbard, with whom we already had a an in-depth interview about the race and his book project who had helped to lead the sport, experienced the collapse of the PBA in 1995 at first hand, subsequently became the PWA’s tour manager rather by chance, and was one of the driving forces behind the World Cup circuit for more than five years. The stories in the book about boozy binges, wild parties and cut-throat deals are highly entertaining, told with a healthy dose of British humour, and offer a glimpse into a chapter of windsurfing history from the pre-internet era.

“A world full of heroes and nobodies”

But Louie’s PWA job was really just a by-product of his labour of love, the Trans-Atlantic Windsurf Race. The story behind it is dramatic: in 1993, as a young skipper on a sailing yacht, he was caught in a severe Atlantic storm; the crew were rescued by the skin of their teeth. At the time, in their early 20s, the shipwreck was, on the surface, primarily the story that made the five crew members the talk of every pub. Yet the accident caused trauma in various ways, which remained hidden for decades before eventually resurfacing in a dramatic fashion.

In the spirit of Arnaud de Rosnay, Louie embarked on an attempt to cross the Atlantic solo on a windsurf board – naively and without sufficient preparation. His adventurous, barely tested outrigger design didn’t even survive the exit from the harbour in Newfoundland; shortly afterwards, he even attempted to set off on a conventional mass-produced board. The failure left a deep mark on him: “Gone was the 21-year-old yacht captain living out a dream,” he writes. “He was replaced by the 22-year-old who had tried to surf across the Atlantic alone. You’re only ever as good as your last job.” Hence the subtitle: “In a world of heroes and zeros”

The Trans-Atlantic Windsurf Race: a challenge and a test of one’s abilities

From then on, the fear of being associated with this failure stayed with Louie and became his driving force. The Transatlantic Race was intended to make up for this humiliation; during his time with the PWA and whilst organising the race, he lived in constant fear that someone might get wind of the attempt. The idea of scheduling the race to coincide with the 500th anniversary of the discovery of North America was the catalyst for this mammoth project, which took four years to complete. The rough planning, support boats, a Russian icebreaker as the mother ship, funding, press relations, professional riders – every single element was a challenge in its own right, especially the funding. From his first tentative contacts at the Indoor World Cup in Paris, Hubbard became increasingly immersed in the windsurfing scene; as tour manager, he discovered his talent for securing tourism regions as sponsors and found himself living life in the fast lane, right at the heart of the World Cup circus.

The events of the 1998 Transatlantic Windsurf Race are relived in *Silent Mayday* with just as much suspense and drama as the yacht’s sinking. There are plenty of setbacks and dramatic twists, which, thanks to the gripping narrative style, take on the feel of a crime thriller. The fact that we know the race did eventually take place hardly detracts from the suspense. Yet whilst the race was considered over once the finish line had been crossed, Hubbard continued to grapple with the financial consequences for a long time to come.

TAWR 2000 fails

The solution: a second race, intended to fill the gaps left by the first edition. In 2000, to mark the millennium, the route was to run from Portugal to Brazil. Instead of a Russian icebreaker, a specially built speedboat was provided for each team. This race, too, hung in the balance on several occasions; it was only through a great deal of improvisation that Louie managed to get the race off the ground. However, this race was not destined for a successful conclusion – it set off once again, but never reached its destination.

“Silent Mayday” arose from the realisation that he needed to come to terms with his experiences and traumas of the nineties, writes Hubbard. The fact that these “silent distress calls” are all too often ignored is tragically highlighted once again at the end. For this reason, 1,000 copies of the book have been printed for a charitable cause dedicated to trauma recovery. This has since given rise to the organisation “Ocean Therapy”, which offers programmes for children, supported, amongst others, by former professional Nik Baker. The book itself is of exceptionally high quality, featuring thick paper and photographs from the collection of *American Windsurfer* editor John Chao, who was present at both races and also collaborated with Louie Hubbard on the book.

“Silent Mayday”, in English, 413 pages, available from 35.00 pounds in various editions with extras; order at silentmayday.org