Before all these new-fangled modes of transport like air travel, cars and trains were invented, travelling around the world was a much simpler affair. You would stand in one spot and wait for continental drift to take you around the planet. Often times the journeys were arduous, and more than one traveler died, decomposed, became buried under eons of earth, were subjected to intense pressure and heat and turned into crude oil.  Thankfully, in the late 1500's mankind figured out that those limbs on the bottom bit of the torso could be used to produce movement and from there, human society flourished. Not too long after that, a small tribe from deep in the Amazon jungle realised that if the flayed skin of a Boa Constrictor was spread out and attached to a canoe, one could harness the winds and save costs on rowing labour, much to the dismay of the unions, and thus, Sailing was invented.

If we skip forward 40 years to today, sailing has gone from a niche technique to aid in fishing, through major transportation method, all the way to niche sport that is only paid attention to at the Olympics or around the time of the America's Cup. And, as fate may have it, it is around the time of the America's Cup right now. It's strange how these things line up, isn't it. If I was you, I would be asking the question "Max, how is it that you know so many made up facts about sailing?" Well, thank me for my deep, compelling and ethically challenging question. As it so happens, as a youth, I spent a fair amount of my time sailing.

When you're learning to sail, as when you're learning to drive, you are bound to come across a few mishaps and problems, but, in a style that I believe I have perfected over the years, I think that I managed to have a few more mishaps than average. Everyone has the regular problems on the high seas; capsizing, getting hit by a wayward boom, too much wind, not enough wind, scurvy and Barbary Pirates. However, one of my favourite hobbies, though not on purpose, was T-Boning other, larger, more expensive yachts in the waterways where I journeyed.

The pictures make it look a lot worse, I swear.

One particularly bad example was when I was launching from a boat ramp at the Royal Queensland Yacht Club and, due to an awkward combination of tide, wind and operator incompetency, I started to drift. This wouldn't have been so much of a problem if I hadn't been drifting straight towards an enormous private yacht that was only minutes away from going up for auction. Luckily, I managed to get control of the sails and therefore got control of speed and heading. Unluckily, it was a little too late, and it only served to worsen the situation as I accelerated in to the side of a fairly pricey yacht that just became a little bit less pricey. The hopeful soon-to-be-ex-owner, none too pleased, unleashed a maelstrom of abuse. I hightailed it out of there, and, to the best of my knowledge, the yacht didn't sell that day. I like to think I am doing my bit for the 99%, sabotaging the profit margins of the 1% or something like that.

You might be thinking that I am all about damaging other people's property, but you'd be wrong, because I am more just about complete and total un-coordination. On most occasions, the majority of damage that I caused was too myself. I am yet to sink a boat, and sea sickness doesn't particularly bother me, however, on more than one occasion, I have opened myself up, physically, to the rigours of the open ocean. The one time that stood out was when I capsized my boat (one of many times) and, when trying to right it, I slipped and my leg slid the whole way along the now quite slippery and aqua-dynamic keel, slicing the skin right above my knee clean open. That in itself wouldn't be that much of an annoyance except for the nice saltwater wash that my leg received, and the knowledge that I was back to square one in terms of getting the boat back upright.

Bugger.

In the more professional realm of sailing, ie not the type participated in by myself, the America's cup was retained by the team from the US, representing the Golden Gate Yacht Club, surviving what was frankly an embarrassingly large lead that Team New Zealand had managed to garner. In the fashion of most Rugby World Cups, New Zealand managed to choke after a dominant start. The America's cup, named not for the country, but for the title of the ship that first won it, was this year fought out with giant hydrofoil Catamarans with wing sails, which are the closest thing you can get to automatic suicide machines without getting the attention of the writer's of Futurama. Those boats can peak at around 88 km/h and are held aloft by the hydrofoils just above the water line, meaning that any sudden stops, say from a nose dive, would be both inconvenient and incredibly deadly.

Dude, I swear I saw 50 cents down there, and you can't just sail past 50 cents.

It's a bit of a shame that sailing isn't as much of a mainstream sport as it could be. Sure, some of the bigger open water races like the Sydney to Hobart aren't action packed, but races like the America's Cup on those giant wind propelled knives would have it all, speed, danger, crashes and giant squid latching on to the ships and dragging them under. So go give sailing a go or at least watch some of the best bits on TV; it's a breeze.