Preface to my new book, The "Pope" of Sailing

I am a sailor and sailing has no reverse gear. Sailors get nowhere until we untie our boats from the dock.  I seem to be constantly trying to unravel tangled ropes and, when they are untied, trying to get the boat to move forward. It was easy when I started because the bowline knot usually worked in all cases, but the tangles are much more complicated now—or so they appear.

It has been an interesting exercise to recount what has been 73 years of a voyage which I hope still has many chapters left. It seemed appropriate to give some account of the people who have shared them with me or whom I have had the privilege to meet. It is really surprising to me how many influences have come to bear on my life that I had very little to do with, and how many just happened by chance.

I trust it is interesting for others to see that the paths I followed were different from those of most of my friends, especially those who went into the corporate world and were employed by others. My view is that those who are self-employed, entrepreneurial businessmen, and who have to meet a daily payroll using their own resources, look at the world differently. I feel that most self-employed people with a social conscience have learned to look at where money comes from differently from those who distribute money that is not theirs.

I am troubled by the expense and lack of leadership that has crept into many projects in Toronto, and indeed in all of Canada these days. Often left-wing academics in control of most debates have instituted seemingly endless forums attended by various “stakeholders”—whatever that euphemism means. I make no apology for my distrust of what is often an expensive and delaying process.

I have always tried to get directly to the issues without worrying about being politically correct. Being in the maintenance plumbing business means that I have many times been required to make decisions and then get on with the job. When you get a call from the police at midnight regarding a broken pipe on the eighth floor of the Medical Arts Building with water surging down the staircases and out the front door onto St. George Street, you can’t just say, “Put an aspirin in it and call for an appointment a week Thursday.” You had bloody well better be there immediately, put your thumb in the hole and get it fixed.

I inherited the family plumbing business on the death of my brother when I was 20, and sold it in 2000 in the firm belief that if it were to survive after more than a century, then a new generation must take it over. Since there was no Henderson who wanted to do that, R. G. Henderson and Son Ltd. was sold and is in fact doing quite well without me, perhaps even better. My trust in the next generation can be traced to the fact that I was given so much support when I was young and given my head to proceed, whether in business or in sport. The support I was given by my elders left me with a great respect for experience and the advice it often brings.

It may seem strange to notice how things in my life fit into four-year cycles although that should not be so difficult to understand, as almost everything I did revolved around the Olympic Games, which have been so important to me. It becomes very intense in the fourth year and then with the extinguishing of the Olympic Flame there is an abrupt end to that Olympiad. The four-year cycle then begins again. During the first two years of the cycle life is pretty normal, and that is when I focused on family and business. Then like the “Olde Fire Horse,” as the Games came closer, I reared up and charged ahead again.

It was a cycle I followed for over 50 years. I competed in every Canadian Olympic Trials from 1952 to 1984. It is always confusing to me whether to call the world governing body for sailing the International Yacht Racing Union (IYRU) or the International Sailing Federation (ISAF). In 1994 the last thing the previous administration did before I took over as President was to change the name. This I opposed, but I had to live with it. So I use IYRU up until 1994 and then switch, but even then I sometimes still call it the IYRU. There is now a term limit at ISAF and a President must retire after eight years, although in my case, due to a change in election dates, I stayed 10 years.

Although older members are grandfathered, the current policy of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) is that new members must retire at age 70. In my case, I reached the end of my 10-year term as President of ISAF in the same week that I turned 70 in November, 2004. Retirement has afforded me the luxury of being even more outspoken and direct than I was previously, if that is possible.

In 1994, after becoming ISAF President, I encouraged members of the sailing fraternity to use email and the Internet, which can lead to even more direct communication lacking in political correctness than either fax or formal letters. Almost everyone accuses me of being blunt, direct and irreverent—someone even labeled my emails “NastyGrams.” In my own defence I usually reply, “Did you ever have to read my directives twice?”

At one of the first IYRU meetings I attended, President Beppe Croce asked the Council, “What do you think the grass-roots sailors want on this subject?”

The brilliant Polish naval engineer, C.A. Marchaj, author of the famous sailing book, Aerodynamics of Yacht Racing, put up his hand and said, “With all due respect Mr. President, the majority is usually wrong!” I have always stated my position up front and let others debate it. I trust I am mature enough to see when I am wrong, change my position if necessary, and move ahead.

Another policy I have explained to other sailors is really bravado, but my oft-quoted response when people ask how I got away with continually buying racing boats is this: “The secret to keeping sailing is to own many boats, so when your wife tells you to sell one, you still have lots of boats left.”

I have always been an independent person marching to the beat of my own drummer, and I have always been quite happy to be alone, especially in my sailboat and dreaming. I attribute this to both the influence of Toronto Island and the fact that I never really worked for anyone except myself. Having been born early in the morning, I am a morning person and since sailors always look for the next shift, not dwelling on the last one, I have always gone to bed early in order to be ready for what the morning might bring. I haven’t changed and I doubt I ever will.

It has been fun remembering all the stories and putting them down on paper. I hope that readers will be at least quietly amused, and in some cases gain new insight through my eyes. My undying thanks go to my ever supportive Mary, the only woman who could ever put up with me. For a kid from Toronto Island, it has been a great ride!

If you'd like to read more, email me at popeofsailing@gmail.com and I'll send you a copy for just $19.95 plus postage.