Sailing is rarely on TV but, when it is, you’ll normally find me watching it. In part, this is to avoid doing other, more pressing and important things like spending time with my children as they grow up, or maintaining the house so that it doesn’t eventually collapse in a pile of rubble around us all. But these are not the only reasons I watch sailing – I do also actually like it.

This, of course, means that I am in a tiny minority of humankind. Even my son, who will watch pretty much any sport, can rarely be persuaded to sit and watch with me. And my wife and daughter? No chance.

There is good reason for this. Sailing is a terrible sport to watch.

Really, really bad.

Unless conditions are near-perfect, and a lot of time and money has gone in to setting up the production (with loads of cameras, and fancy special effect overlays to show laylines and distances to marks), and you have some understanding of the sport, it is nearly impossible to get engaged with sailing as a spectator sport, especially if you are not a die-hard fan.

But we keep trying. This year we had the Olympics (about which I will write more in another article or two), and the America’s Cup, and the Vendee Globe. And of course there is SailGP, now heading in to season number five, with several events each season.

They have all had a go at making sailing watchable, with varying degrees of success/failure.

The guys tasked with selling sailing as a viewing event must have one of the most difficult jobs in production.

And what about the commentators? God love them. At least sailing boats look great most of the time, so the camera guys have something to work with.

But the commentators have to fill time while the wind picks up. Or drops off. Or stops shifting around. Or until the race management re-sets the course. Or the lightening passes over. Or maybe there is a general recall and the whole starting sequence has to be done again.

And even if there is racing, they have to talk about what is happening when it is almost impossible to actually know what is happening. The gridlines to the marks are often not perfect. and nor are the laylines.

It is impossible to see where the best pressure is. It is impossible to know what shifts are happening. It is impossible to know the effect that the current is having across the racecourse.

And, most of all, if it is fleet racing, it can be impossible to follow everything that is going on across the fleet.

And, all the while, in the back of the commentator’s head, is the awareness that there are a bunch of keyboard warriors – myself included – who will criticise every little thing they do, from the mistakes they make to the sound of their voice; from the fact that they speak over the sailing comms to the fact that they haven’t spoken enough and all we can hear is the sailing comms.

In short, it is an impossible job.

But.

Of course, there had to be a “but”.

As SailGP and the America’s Cup both tend to pitch themselves as Formula 1 on water, perhaps we might learn a little from that sport.

(I told you my son will watch virtually any sport, and this means I end up watching virtually every sport).

In F1 commentary they tend to have a main commentator who is like a super-fan – he gets excited by everything (even the Monaco Grand Prix!), and he seems to have an endless supply of facts and figures about all drivers, teams, and tracks.

Beside the main commentator is an expert – an ex-driver that knows the detail of the sport. He can describe what it is like to drive these cars, what specific challenges are presented by each individual corner on a track. He knows what the thought processes are for the drivers and their strategists, and why they might make some of the decisions they make.

And alongside this they have other analysts that look at specific footage, and who offer insights into specific incidents or moments – again, generally ex-drivers.

Compare these two clips – watch each for 30 seconds:

First is the start of the Monza Grand Prix –

Other than one driver running wide and having to rejoin, virtually nothing of note happens in the first 30 seconds – no position changes among the leaders and no crashes. and yet the commentary is so engaging that you are drawn in to share the excitement.

The second is the start of Race 17 of the LV cup, where the two pace setters from the first few races face off in challenging conditions:

So much happens!

Luna Rossa look for the hook, and New Zealand defend, momentarily looking in the controlling position. But suddenly Luna Rossa accelerate and look to roll over the top of New Zealand.

There’s several seconds where it could go either way – will the Kiwis be able to luff the Italians over the line, or will Luna Ross get clear ahead and win the start? They just manage it, and even the unflappable Peter Burling is shaken into compounding the error by attempting a down-speed tack and dropping off the foil.

All this happens with the Italian boat hitting nearly 48 knots (90 kmh / 55mph). In a 75 ft boat. That weighs 6200 kg (nearly 7 of your American tons).

We’re told all the time how vital the start is in these match races, and it is the only time that we are guaranteed to see the boats engage in close combat, but the commentary just allows the moment to pass.

Sure, it is good to watch anyway but, if you are new to watching sailing, you need someone to show you where the excitement is. The F1 commentator barely takes a breath, which is in stark contrast to the sailing commentary where they barely say a word.

I know it sounds like I am having a go at the current commentators. I’m not – I think they’re great. But it needs at least one of them to be passionate and excited about everything that is happening. We have the experts (Glenn Ashby is particularly good), but we don’t seem to have the main commentator yet.

I was on the edge of my seat watching that start, but if you were watching for the first time you would not have known that anything exciting was happening at all.

It reminded me of this classic video. It gives a good idea as to what sailing looks like to someone that doesn’t have a clue about the sport, and it is well worth a watch if you have 3 minutes. be warned there is some NSFW vocab, but it does make me laugh every time:

I’m sure all this stuff will get better and better the more sailing is shown on TV, and kudos to everyone that steps up to do it. It takes a lot of courage to work live – I know I couldn’t do it.

And for those of you that think no amount of commentary can make it interesting, then have a watch of this video – proof that you can make anything exciting if you know exactly what you are doing: