THE IMPROBABLE I
n the annals of sailboat racing, certain boats stand out — boats that shift the paradigm, change the thinking, and sometimes head the sport in a whole new direction. The schooner America, J-Class Ranger, and the yawl Dorade come readily to mind. Also on that list is the Mull 42 Improbable. One of the first yachts created expressly to excel in off-the-wind races with little regard to any handicap rule, for a few short years, Improbable turned the racing world on its ear. Many of the lightweight speedsters of today can trace their roots back the antics of the 'Red Rocket', the hard-driving skipper who conceived the boat, and the West Coast 'hippie' crew — and lone Kiwi — who sailed it.
A
BRUCE SCHWAB
famous face may soon be back sailing the waters of San Francisco Bay. If all goes as planned, the Mull 42 Improbable could return here in time for the 50th anniversary of its 1970 launch – restored, updated, lightened and potentially faster than ever. The boat is currently at Jim Betts' yard in Anacortes, Wa s h i n g t o n , undergoing a refresh and refurbish by the third owner, former Bay Area rigBruce Schwab is bringing ger and rounda lifetime of sailing experi- the-world racer ence into the rebirth of 'Im- Bruce Schwab. probable'. These days, Bruce runs Ocean Planet Energy Systems — a supplier and installer of highend marine electronics headquartered in Maine. In order to work on the boat, in his 'spare time', Bruce periodically flies cross-country to Washington, works furiously on the boat for a few days to a week, then flies back to Maine and his real job. If this seems a bit crazy, Schwab will be the first to agree. "This whole thing was taken on against everyone's better judgment," he says, "including mine." In his defense, it's not something he chose — it chose him. There are two big reasons he's decided to see it through. The first is that "This is the boat that got me into all of it," he says. "All the racing and especially the singlehanding I've done all started with Improbable." The second reason is that the boat's last owner — who lived aboard for most of the last 40 years — was his father, Leonard. We should start at the beginning.
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mprobable was the brainchild of Commodore Tompkins and his band of merry men — among them, Skip Allan, Dave Wahle, Robert 'Danny' Daniels, Kim Desenberg, and a young New Zealander Page 80 •
Latitude 38
• April, 2019
named Ron Holland. By the late '60s, Commodore — then in his 30s — was a force to be reckoned with in ocean racing. He had thousands of ocean racing miles on scores of boats, and an enviable track record for making them win races. (For those who might not know, sailing was in his blood from an early age. Warwick 'Commodore' Tompkins grew up aboard his father's 85-ft German pilot schooner Wander Bird, and made his first rounding of Cape Horn at age 4.) In 1969, the guys had just returned to the West Coast from winning efforts in both the Southern Ocean Racing Conference (SORC), and the Jamaica Race that followed it. Commodore was bursting with energy and competitive juices. A student as well as purveyor of the craft of sailing, he read everything he could get his hands on regarding ocean racing, and had been particularly impressed by a concept in a book by British designer John Illingworth: Storm systems moved across the Atlantic west-to-east at about seven knots, and a boat that could maintain that average (rare in those days, particularly for a smaller boat) could 'ride' a favorable wind system for the entire course. Commodore started to imagine a purpose-built dragon-slayer boat that could dominate the Jamaica and similar mostly downwind races. It all came together — as we suspect many epiphanies do — in the shower one night after a cold day on the Bay. Ron Holland, then 22, was staying at his house and Commodore, still toweling himself off, laid it out. . . "You could build a small, narrow boat for flat-out downwind racing. Make it light and stiff — out of wood so it would be economical. Crew of six: four really good guys and two owners who could split the costs. And if you did it right, you could do it for less than most of these guys spend on a new set of sails." Furthermore, such a boat would pay little homage to the tenets of the thencurrent CCA (Cruising Club of America) or the newly minted IOR (International Offshore Rule), then in its infancy. Speed, efficiency and ease of handling were the guidelines for this concept. Commodore and the guys fleshed out
the idea. The 'dream' boat should be at least 38 feet long, have an outboard rudder, be tiller-steered — and painted bright red. The latter was homage to Dick Carter's Admiral's Cup winner Red Rooster, on which Commodore and Skip had crewed the previous summer. The concept was brought to Alameda designer Gary Mull (for whom Holland was apprenticing at the time). His initial reaction was, "It can't be done." But eventually, he produced drawing for a 38-footer with a masthead rig and transom-hung rudder that he thought was good-looking and close to the concept.
"This whole thing was taken on against everyone's better judgment." Now all they had to do was find somebody to pay for it. "Since it was my idea, it fell on me to find an owner," recalls Commodore. He had several prospects in mind, men he had sailed with who were familiar with Commodore, his group of commandos,
